Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

Four Years Later

Summer nights in Northborough stretched on and on, the velvet darkness stitched with scattered stars.

At the Northborough International Convention Center, a charity auction was in full swing.

"And next up for bidding, we have a rare porcelain bowl from the late

Renaissance period, restored just two years ago by Ms. Leilani. The craftsmanship is remarkable, and it took her over a year to bring it back to life. Tonight, she's generously put it up for auction, with all proceeds going to our charity event. Bidding starts at three million."

A paddle shot up from the crowd. "Five million!"

Heads turned in unison.

It was Pandora, the poised secretary, holding the paddle. Seated beside her was none other than Garry, the legendary magnate from the Westenmar Foundation.

Everyone in the room knew Garry's reputation: an influential philanthropist with a particular fondness for antiques. Over the years, he'd made substantial contributions to heritage preservation, both at home and abroad.

When Garry set his sights on something, few dared to compete.

The room collectively assumed the porcelain bowl was as good as his.

"Eight million!" came a sudden call.

A ripple of surprise swept through the hall; such a bold jump in price was rare.

Clearly, someone intended to go head-to-head with Garry tonight.

All eyes zeroed in on the challenger.

It was Carl holding the paddle, seated beside Stewart.

Who in Northborough didn't know Stewart? The city's undefeated legal powerhouse, who'd taken the reins of The Wentworth Group just two years prior. Under his leadership, the company had surged ahead, dominating the green energy and technology sectors, ushering in a new era for the Wentworth empire.

A man who commanded both the political and business arenas-mention Stewart's name in any elite circle, and even the most seasoned players would hesitate.

The stage was set: Northborough's "devil in a suit" squaring off against Westenmar's titan.

This was going to be a show.

sizing

the attention, looked over, their

smirk curled

the

rang out, "Ten million! Mr. Ferguson bids ten million!

Stewart glanced at Carl.

the paddle again.

Mr. Wentworth

as if they were simply old friends chatting. "Since when did you develop an

tone was cool, his expression unreadable. "It

a reason to let it go

the gentleman, huh?" Garry's smile

this much, then I'll

the end, Stewart claimed the porcelain bowl for twenty

the host and director of the auction house, personally came

Wentworth, thank you so much for supporting

shook his hand, his voice low and steady. "Ms. Leilani's dedication to charity is admirable. I've heard a lot about her over the

be difficult. To be honest, despite working with Ms. Leilani on several occasions,

narrowed slightly, but

left the auction house, Stewart caught sight

stood under the streetlights, dressed in an iron-grey suit,

had gone to fetch the

plume of smoke, a mocking smile playing on his

been four years and

remained icy, his gaze unwavering. "Garry, I

reminding the three-year deadline has

arched an eyebrow. "That's right, this is the fourth year." He flicked

"Here's some good news:

Stewart frowned. "To Rosita?"

"That's right.

this your new way of protecting

that. The wedding's next week-I'll be sure to send

Stewart's eyes narrowed.

piece, Garry turned and strolled

door for him. Garry slid inside without a backward glance, and

away, disappearing into