He Outbid Me, I Ruined His Plan

Chapter 3

Just as the auctioneer was about to resume the countdown, Henry's voice, thick with barely suppressed fury, boomed out from the private box.

"I want them to verify their funds!"

The crowd collectively let out a sigh of relief.

"I knew it! There's no way Mr. Walton can't afford this. He just doesn't want to get played by some random nobody!"

"Exactly! Anyone can yell out a multi-million bid like it's nothing, but that doesn't mean they actually have the cash to back it up."

"Right! Verify the funds, verify the funds!"

"Does that guest even dare go through with it? Dropping millions on a necklace that's only worth four hundred thousand dollars? Who else but Mr. Walton has that kind of money to blow?"

Everyone turned their eyes to the auctioneer, urging him on.

"Come on, tell the other bidder to prove she's good for the money! Let's see if she's got the guts to agree!"

Under the weight of all those stares, the auctioneer's face twisted awkwardly.

"When the second-floor guest placed their last bid, they already offered to have their funds verified first..."

The crowd below erupted into chaos.

"She actually had the nerve to offer first?"

"Did I hear that right? She's the one questioning if Mr. Walton can pay up?"

"That's so out of line! She's got some nerve acting like she's on Mr. Walton's level? She doesn't know her place at all!"

Henry flicked a black card across the table, his voice sharp enough to cut ice.

"Check it! That bastard better pray she walks out of here in one piece today!"

Five minutes later, the account manager handed my card back to me with a deep, respectful bow, then quietly pulled the door shut behind him.

Downstairs, the event organizer was sweating bullets as he ran Henry's card one more time, then spoke in a shaky, nervous voice.

"Mr. Walton, your card appears to be frozen..."

I watched the color drain from Henry's face, shifting from stunned disbelief to outright shock, then boiling rage.

He grabbed his phone and called contact after contact, but everyone at the company had already gotten my heads-up. They beat around the bush the whole time, brushing off every single one of his requests for money.

Everyone kept their tone as polite as ever, but when it came to handing over money?

Not a single cent.

Under the event organizer's increasingly confused gaze, Henry's expression turned darker and darker by the second.

When the crowd outside noticed Box 8 had been dead quiet for ages, they started whispering among themselves, curiosity getting the better of them.

"What's going on here? The lady upstairs has already finished her verification. Why is Mr. Walton still taking so long?"

"There's no way he actually can't come up with the money, right?"

No one could tell who'd tossed that question out into the crowd.

This time, though, barely anyone jumped in to mock me anymore.

I watched from my box as Henry took a deep breath, smoothed out his expression, and picked up his phone again.

The next second, a familiar ringtone went off.

Henry was calling me.

"Honey..." The second he opened his mouth, he sounded as soft and devoted as ever.

He continued, "The business deal here in France needs a cash injection. Why hasn't that nine million dollars you promised hit my account yet?"

He pulled the act off like second nature, not a single c***k in his expression.

Of course, he did. Siphoning my money to spoil his mistress was basically part of his daily routine at this point!

When I didn't say anything, a flash of irritation flickered across his eyes, but his voice only got softer, sweeter.

"I was just trying to take some of the pressure off you. I didn't expect things to get this complicated over here."

I didn't bite at his little act. Instead, I asked a question of my own.

"Did you get to the hotel? Send me a photo."

He hesitated for a beat, and it took him a full few minutes to send over a photo.

I stared at the random stock photo Henry had clearly fished off the internet, and I scoffed out a bitter, disbelieving laugh.

The guy couldn't even be bothered to put in the bare minimum effort to lie to me!

Watching his little act unfold, I kept my voice totally flat. "Don't worry about it. I'll book a flight right now and come handle this in person."

At that, Henry's face went rigid. He rushed to speak up, "No need! I've got this under control. Just transfer the funds to my account, that's all you need to do!"

Realizing he'd sounded a little too sharp, Henry immediately dialed it back, his tone softening into that familiar honeyed drawl.

"You finally get a chance to take a break, I'd hate for you to wear yourself out again over this."

He was still spouting sweet nothings when a girl's "Ow!" cut through the line.

I didn't even have to guess who it was. I glanced down, and sure enough, Shane was sprawled on the floor, her dress soaked through with spilled wine.

"What was that? What's going on over there?" I asked.

Henry froze, and right as he was about to scramble for an excuse, Shane's timid, soft voice piped up.

"Sis, Paula, it's me. Mr. Walton was worried I didn't have enough experience, so he brought me along on this business trip. Please don't get the wrong idea!"

My gaze turned ice-cold.

Seriously? She couldn't hold out even five minutes?

She was so eager to throw this in my face, she actually thought this cheap little trick would force me to give up my spot?