Revenge Of The Jilted Bride (Ophelia) -
Jilted Bride 56
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56
"Next up is Lot 4, the Seabreeze property in East Harbor. The starting bid is 27 million dollars, the auctioneer announced.
Bidding paddles flew up across the room in quick succession, a dear sign of the fierce competition for this prime piece of real estate. "Number 45, 60 million dollars," a voice from the crowd called out.
Barely a heartbeat passed before another bidder chimed in, "Number 23, 63 million dollars.
"Number 5, 65 million dollars," yet another determined buyer countered.
The bids continued to climb rapidly. Finally, Gilmore Properties secured the lot for 78 million dollars, drawing applause from the crowd.
"The West End Soccer Field is up next," Harry's secretary whispered in his ear.
Harry's gaze remained fixed in Ophelia's direction. He was still puzzling over how she had managed to scrape together seven million dollars for investment.
"Mr. Hastings? The West End Soccer Field is next." The secretary repeated, a bit louder this time.
Harry snapped back to attention, taking a deep breath. "Right, I heard you," he replied, refocusing on the task at hand.
The auctioneer's voice rang out. "Next up is Lot 5, West End Soccer Field. Starting bid is 22 million dollars."
There was a pause, and then the bidding continued. "Number 41, 27 million dollars." Someone raised their paddle.
Another quickly chimed in, "Number 10, 28 million dollars."
Harry confidently raised his paddle. "Number 18, 30 million dollars." His bid exuded determination. Several CEOs who knew him well cast admiring glances his way, impressed by his boldness and initiative.
Harry lifted his chin, feeling proud. This was his first time taking charge, and he was determined not to disappoint his father.
However, his moment of triumph was short-lived. In the front row, Ophelia raised her paddle. "Number 8, 32 million dollars."
Ophelia spoke languidly, not forgetting to throw a challenging glance back at Harry. Her eyes were filled with undisguised contempt. Harry, who had been riding high just moments ago, couldn't stand for this. He was determined to win this plot of land at all costs. "Number 18, 37 million dollars," Harry called out confidently and thought, 'Let's see her try to outbid me now."
Ophelia's expression remained impassive, but from where Harry stood, he could see the slight curl of her lips. "Number 8, 39 million dollars," she countered smoothly.
Ophelia deliberately raised the bid by two million dollars, subtly reminding him of the day he'd tried to sign with Christopher and ended up embarrassed.
This ignited Harry's competitive spirit. "Number 18, 40 million dollars," he called out.
""Number 27, 42 million dollars. Another bid came.
This time, Ophelia didn't raise her paddle. Harry smirked coldly and declared, "Number 18, 44 million dollars."
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Chapter 56
"Number 8, 44.3 million dollars," Ophelia chimed in again.
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Harry was ready to explode. 'Is she deliberately trying to piss me off? Raising it by just 300 thousand dollars? That's got to be her limit.
He immediately raised his paddle again. "Number 18, 50 million dollars. This matched Hastings Group's valuation.
Ophelia turned her head, giving Harry another glance. She chuckled softly and said, "Number 8, 52 million dollars."
As Ophelia finished speaking, she exchanged a glance with Christopher beside her. Their faces were etched with undisguised contempt and mockery.
Harry felt a lump in his throat, making it hard to breathe.
While everyone else found Ophelia's bidding in the front row slightly odd, only Harry knew the truth. She was blatantly humiliating him.
He was about to raise his paddle when the appraiser next to him pushed it down. "Mr. Hastings, we can't bid any higher. We're already two million dollars over budget."
The mention of "two million dollars" only made Harry's blood boil. "Who's the manager here, you or me? What does it matter if we go a little over budget? Hastings Group can afford it Harry raised his paddle. "Number 18, 54 million dollars."
Ophelia casually raised her paddle. "Number 8, 56 million dollars." With each of Harry's bids, she consistently raised the price by two million dollars.
Harry clenched his jaw, raising his paddle once more. "Number 18, 70 million dollars." Even at that price for the West End Soccer Field plot, the profit margin was paper-thin.
"Number 8, 72 million dollars," Ophelia said.
The secretary grabbed Harry's arm, urging, "Mr. Hastings, you can't bid any higher. They've set a trap, and you're falling right into it. They're deliberately bidding up." "Indeed, Mr. Hastings," the appraiser chimed in.
At first, Harry had been caught up in the heat of the moment. But now, even he wasn't foolish enough to miss what was happening. He recognized Ophelia's game-she was trying to manipulate the situation. Yet, he still believed she was too inexperienced to outmaneuver him.
Anticipating her continued counter-bids, Harry formulated a new strategy. He'd push Ophelia to win the plot at an astronomical price. 'Let's see how she plans to pay for it,' he sneered. 'When she can't afford it, the land will end up with Hastings Group anyway.' With that thought, Harry raised the paddle again. "Number 18, 73 million dollars."
"Number 8, 75 million dollars." Ophelia's swift response came.
The bidding war continued, tension mounting with each raise.
"Number 8, 78 million dollars," Ophelia countered.
"Number 18, 80 million dollars." Harry's eyes narrowed. 'You wanted to play this game, didn't you? Let's keep going!
All eyes turned to Harry in shock while Ophelia merely raised an eyebrow. This time, she didn't raise her paddle. Instead, she turned to Harry with a sly smile, her lips forming the word "Congratulations".
'What does that mean?' Harry's spine stiffened. As the gavel fell, his heart sank with it. Why did she stop bidding?'
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Chapter 56
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The realization hit Harry like a ton of bricks. The color drained from his face, leaving him looking like he'd seen a ghost 'Did I really just bid 80 million dollars for the West End Soccer Field? Harry muttered in disbelief. It was even pricier than the Seabreeze property in East Harbor. While the West End Soccer Field was sizeable, the construction costs would be astronomical. Plus, the area's lower consumer spending meant they couldn't charge city-center prices for the homes. Exceeding the budget by 27 million dollars left little room for profit.
The appraiser had tried in vain to restrain Harry during the bidding. His secretary wore a look of despair, wondering how to explain this to Owen. The gazes from those around them had shifted from initial admiration to barely concealed judgment.
After the auction ended. Harry remained seated, reluctant to move. "Why... Why didn't you two stop me?" he asked weakly.
The appraiser frowned, realizing that Harry, typically known for his composure, had lost his cool over a young woman's provocation. It didn't bode well for the future of Hastings Group.
"Mr. Hastings, you should think about how you're going to explain this to Mr. Owen," the secretary reminded him.
As people gradually entered the scene, they couldn't help but give Harry a thumbs up, praising him. "Mr. Hastings, you've really got guts. You're a man destined for great things." "Mr. Owen must be so proud to have a son like you," someone laughed.
Another smiled, "Bravo, Mr. Hastings. Bravo."
Each word of praise felt like a needle under his skin, but Harry had to swallow his anger and keep his composure. They took the elevator down.
In the hotel lobby, Ophelia stepped out from another elevator and walked straight past Harry.
In an instant, Harry unleashed all his pent-up fury on her. "Ophelia, stop right there!" he barked.
Harry grabbed Ophelia's arm abruptly. "You did that on purpose, didn't you? You provoked me into acquiring that land at a quite high price. What's your game, Ophelia?"
Ophelia forcefully shook off Harry's grip and brushed off imaginary dust from her sleeve.
"Mr. Hastings, what are you talking about?" she replied innocently. "I just made some money in the stock market recently and wanted to invest. I genuinely thought that land was promising, but...70 million dollars was definitely beyond my budget You're the one with the real guts, Mr. Hastings."
Ophelia's smile was angelic, her wide eyes giving the impression of a guileless young girl.
Harry's secretary and the appraiser, watching from the sidelines, couldn't bear to look. It was clear to them that Harry had acted on impulse and was now taking out his frustration on a young woman. His behavior was truly pathetic.
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