Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness - Chapter 67: Chapter 67
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"Miss Hayes, I am the host of this auction—the auctioneer."
One sentence shattered all her provocations.
On stage, I held absolute authority. Even if I declared the blue diamond auction invalid right now, it would immediately be voided. Not to mention her self-proclaimed "human auction."
Of course I wouldn't honor it.
Victoria's face darkened, clearly showing more anger in her eyes.
She obviously hadn't expected me to embarrass her in front of everyone.
"Lacey! I call you auctioneer out of respect! Aren't you afraid of offending us and being unable to continue working?"
I looked at her, my eyes showing little emotion: "I haven't violated any professional ethics as an auctioneer. I respect every guest and fairly and justly completed every auction. As for who cares about this face of mine—"
I paused, scanning the crowd: "I think everyone came for the auction items, not for me."
"What do you mean?" She was at it again, clearly still not getting it.
I replied flatly: "Your English isn't very good. I suggest remedial classes."
The surrounding guests began to laugh.
She finally realized this "mask farce" had completely backfired on her.
Behind me was the entire auction house. I was the chief auctioneer, not a chess piece for others to toy with. If someone really came to trouble me over such boring heckling, they probably couldn't even get through the auction house doors.
Victoria had treated me like a helpless rabbit, but she forgot—even rabbits bite when cornered.
She was so angry she was shaking, her lips trembling, wanting nothing more than to tear me apart.
Just then, a low chuckle came from below the stage.
It was Arnold.
I could hear the emotion in that light laugh—indifferent, yet seemingly with a hint of—appreciation.
Victoria looked at him in confusion: "Arnold, you—"
Arnold raised an eyebrow, looking at her with a calm voice: "She's right."
I didn't look at him, but could hear the tone had no fluctuation, yet was clearly taking my side.
He was on my side.
He spoke for me, and the auction hall's atmosphere immediately reversed.
"Yes, yes, it was just a joke. Don't take it seriously, Miss Hayes."
"Miss Lacey, that was presumptuous just now. Apologies."
I nodded slightly in acknowledgment, neither cold nor warm.
They were all shrewd people, each changing with the wind. Only Victoria still naively thought she could control everything.
Her jaw was clenched tight, her eyes so gloomy they could drip water.
I ignored her, picked up the microphone, and continued speaking calmly:
"Tonight had quite a few interludes, but fortunately all auction items were completed successfully. Next is the delivery phase. Congratulations again to all guests on your rewarding returns."
With that, I put down the microphone and stood to leave.
Walking off stage past Victoria, I turned my head slightly, glanced at her, and smiled: "Study more if you lack ability."
She widened her eyes, her face paler than her foundation.
—
Meanwhile, in England.
"Holy shit! Boss, Paisley was absolutely incredible!!!!"
In front of a computer screen, a man with devastatingly handsome features was leisurely smoking, his gaze fixed on the projected image—a woman standing on stage, proud as light itself.
He curved his lips, lazily responding: "My woman—how could she not be incredible?"
The circle of people around him immediately echoed agreement.
"I said from the beginning, boss, you don't need to worry about her at all. Is she the type to be bullied?"
The man narrowed his eyes, turned his head, his voice light as a blade: "Did I say I was worried about her? Which eye of yours saw me worried about her?"
Everyone was stunned, quickly lowering their heads: "Yes, yes, yes... You weren't worried, not at all... except your eyes were practically glued to the screen."
—
I entered the lounge, removed my microphone, and finally breathed a slight sigh of relief.
Emily immediately handed me water, stars in her eyes: "Lacey, you were so cool! Really, I was so anxious just now—but you stayed so calm!"
I took the water, nodding lightly: "Thank you."
That scene on stage was indeed not easy to handle. But I couldn't panic, and I couldn't lose.
"Keep an eye on the follow-up procedures. I have some other matters, so I'm leaving first."
"Understood."
Clara had brought the children today. I told her in advance that Arnold would be there too.
She wisely didn't bring them inside.
Very smart.
And I now—indeed had other business that needed handling.
After Emily left, I changed clothes and removed my mask. Just as I came out of the lounge, I saw that tall, upright figure standing at the door.
I paused mid-step, my brow instantly furrowing: "Arnold? What are you doing here?"
He looked at me, his tone matter-of-fact: "Looking for you."
I laughed coldly: "Looking for me? Not going to accompany your sweetheart?"
His face darkened, his tone lowering: "Paisley, you don't need to be so passive-aggressive every time."
"Fine," my tone was cool, "since you're here, let's discuss business. Sign the divorce agreement."
One sentence shattered all her provocations.
On stage, I held absolute authority. Even if I declared the blue diamond auction invalid right now, it would immediately be voided. Not to mention her self-proclaimed "human auction."
Of course I wouldn't honor it.
Victoria's face darkened, clearly showing more anger in her eyes.
She obviously hadn't expected me to embarrass her in front of everyone.
"Lacey! I call you auctioneer out of respect! Aren't you afraid of offending us and being unable to continue working?"
I looked at her, my eyes showing little emotion: "I haven't violated any professional ethics as an auctioneer. I respect every guest and fairly and justly completed every auction. As for who cares about this face of mine—"
I paused, scanning the crowd: "I think everyone came for the auction items, not for me."
"What do you mean?" She was at it again, clearly still not getting it.
I replied flatly: "Your English isn't very good. I suggest remedial classes."
The surrounding guests began to laugh.
She finally realized this "mask farce" had completely backfired on her.
Behind me was the entire auction house. I was the chief auctioneer, not a chess piece for others to toy with. If someone really came to trouble me over such boring heckling, they probably couldn't even get through the auction house doors.
Victoria had treated me like a helpless rabbit, but she forgot—even rabbits bite when cornered.
She was so angry she was shaking, her lips trembling, wanting nothing more than to tear me apart.
Just then, a low chuckle came from below the stage.
It was Arnold.
I could hear the emotion in that light laugh—indifferent, yet seemingly with a hint of—appreciation.
Victoria looked at him in confusion: "Arnold, you—"
Arnold raised an eyebrow, looking at her with a calm voice: "She's right."
I didn't look at him, but could hear the tone had no fluctuation, yet was clearly taking my side.
He was on my side.
He spoke for me, and the auction hall's atmosphere immediately reversed.
"Yes, yes, it was just a joke. Don't take it seriously, Miss Hayes."
"Miss Lacey, that was presumptuous just now. Apologies."
I nodded slightly in acknowledgment, neither cold nor warm.
They were all shrewd people, each changing with the wind. Only Victoria still naively thought she could control everything.
Her jaw was clenched tight, her eyes so gloomy they could drip water.
I ignored her, picked up the microphone, and continued speaking calmly:
"Tonight had quite a few interludes, but fortunately all auction items were completed successfully. Next is the delivery phase. Congratulations again to all guests on your rewarding returns."
With that, I put down the microphone and stood to leave.
Walking off stage past Victoria, I turned my head slightly, glanced at her, and smiled: "Study more if you lack ability."
She widened her eyes, her face paler than her foundation.
—
Meanwhile, in England.
"Holy shit! Boss, Paisley was absolutely incredible!!!!"
In front of a computer screen, a man with devastatingly handsome features was leisurely smoking, his gaze fixed on the projected image—a woman standing on stage, proud as light itself.
He curved his lips, lazily responding: "My woman—how could she not be incredible?"
The circle of people around him immediately echoed agreement.
"I said from the beginning, boss, you don't need to worry about her at all. Is she the type to be bullied?"
The man narrowed his eyes, turned his head, his voice light as a blade: "Did I say I was worried about her? Which eye of yours saw me worried about her?"
Everyone was stunned, quickly lowering their heads: "Yes, yes, yes... You weren't worried, not at all... except your eyes were practically glued to the screen."
—
I entered the lounge, removed my microphone, and finally breathed a slight sigh of relief.
Emily immediately handed me water, stars in her eyes: "Lacey, you were so cool! Really, I was so anxious just now—but you stayed so calm!"
I took the water, nodding lightly: "Thank you."
That scene on stage was indeed not easy to handle. But I couldn't panic, and I couldn't lose.
"Keep an eye on the follow-up procedures. I have some other matters, so I'm leaving first."
"Understood."
Clara had brought the children today. I told her in advance that Arnold would be there too.
She wisely didn't bring them inside.
Very smart.
And I now—indeed had other business that needed handling.
After Emily left, I changed clothes and removed my mask. Just as I came out of the lounge, I saw that tall, upright figure standing at the door.
I paused mid-step, my brow instantly furrowing: "Arnold? What are you doing here?"
He looked at me, his tone matter-of-fact: "Looking for you."
I laughed coldly: "Looking for me? Not going to accompany your sweetheart?"
His face darkened, his tone lowering: "Paisley, you don't need to be so passive-aggressive every time."
"Fine," my tone was cool, "since you're here, let's discuss business. Sign the divorce agreement."
End of Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness Chapter 67. Continue reading Chapter 68 or return to Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness book page.