My Coldhearted Husband’s Regret

Whitney whispered urgently in Veronica's ear, "Our only hope now is that Niall stays away from the emerald set."

Veronica harbored the same desperate wish, though deep down she knew better. When had Niall ever shown restraint?

The auctioneer's voice rang out crisp and clear across the hall. "The emerald jewelry collection opens at ten million dollars."

A paddle shot up immediately. "Fifteen million."

Without hesitation, Veronica raised her own paddle. "Eighteen million."

"Twenty million," came another voice from across the room.

The bidding war escalated rapidly. "Thirty-five million."

Veronica's pulse hammered against her throat as she scanned the room. Niall sat motionless, her expression unreadable. Both Veronica and Whitney exchanged a cautious glance, allowing themselves a moment of fragile hope.

Veronica's hand trembled slightly as she prepared to raise her paddle once more. Then Niall's arm lifted with deliberate slowness, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Fifty million."

A collective gasp rippled through the auction hall. Conversations died mid-sentence as heads turned toward Niall, who sat with perfect composure, as if she had just ordered afternoon tea rather than bid an astronomical sum.

Veronica's knuckles went white as she gripped her paddle. She forced herself to think clearly, to calculate. After a moment that felt like an eternity, she raised her bid. "Sixty million."

Niall didn't even blink. "Sixty-five million."

"Seventy million." Veronica's voice came out steadier than she felt.

The number hung in the air like a challenge. Veronica's mind raced frantically. Her grandmother's seventieth birthday deserved something extraordinary. Perhaps if she pushed to eighty million, she could still win this battle.

But before she could make her decision, Niall's paddle rose again with infuriating calm. "One hundred and twenty million."

The words hit Veronica like a physical blow. Her chest constricted painfully as she struggled to draw breath. She sat frozen, watching her last hope slip away, then slowly lowered her paddle to her lap in defeat.

The auction hall had fallen into stunned silence. Even the most wealthy bidders present wouldn't dare compete with such reckless spending.

With that single devastating bid, the emerald set belonged to Niall.

Nothing else on the auction block held any appeal for Veronica now, but the strict protocols demanded that all guests remain until the final gavel fell. She sat trapped in her chair, forced to witness the continued spectacle.

The remaining lots commanded even higher prices, and Cullen's spending spree showed no signs of slowing. By the time the final item sold, Whitney could no longer contain her disbelief.

"This is absolutely insane," she hissed under her breath. "Three hundred and sixty million dollars in one night! Even if someone has money to burn, this is beyond ridiculous! He's throwing away a fortune on that woman without a second thought!"

Veronica had no response to offer. The numbers were staggering, almost incomprehensible. But as the evening wore on, she noticed that Cullen had stopped bidding entirely after securing the emerald set for Niall.

When the auctioneer finally brought down his gavel for the last time, Veronica rose from her seat with relief. She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, refusing to so much as glance in Cullen's direction as she and Whitney made their way toward the exit.

Whitney, however, couldn't resist looking back. "Maverick just went over to talk to them," she reported quietly.

They had barely stepped outside when an elegantly dressed older woman approached them. Whitney's face brightened with recognition as she exchanged warm greetings with the woman.

The stranger's attention quickly shifted to Veronica, her eyes appraising. "Whitney, dear, I don't believe we've met this lovely young woman. Would you introduce us?"

Whitney performed the introductions with practiced social grace.

Upon learning Veronica's family connections, the woman's warm smile cooled noticeably. "Ah, yes, Mr. Murray's niece. You're quite beautiful, my dear."

But Veronica could read the calculation behind the polite words. This woman knew exactly what everyone in their social circle knew about the Murray family.

The whispered stories about Veronica's mother followed her everywhere. Mental illness, years spent in psychiatric care, the shadow of instability that supposedly ran in bloodlines. These society matrons dissected such details with surgical precision.

Then there was the matter of Murray Corporation, hemorrhaging money despite Phillip's desperate attempts to save it. The company's decline was an open secret, its chances of recovery growing dimmer each quarter.

Beautiful or not, well-mannered or not, Veronica carried too much baggage for families like this one. She could see the woman's mental arithmetic playing out behind her eyes, tallying up the reasons why someone like Veronica would never be suitable for their precious sons.

The conversation continued around her, but Veronica felt the familiar sting of being found wanting. She and Whitney remained trapped in the polite exchange, unable to escape without seeming rude.

Movement near the auction hall entrance caught Veronica's peripheral vision. Cullen emerged with Niall at his side, Maverick accompanying them.

Maverick clasped Cullen's hand warmly. "I have some business to attend to, but we should definitely continue our discussion soon."

"Absolutely," Cullen replied with easy confidence.

Maverick departed with his entourage, but more people immediately surrounded Cullen, eager to curry favor with someone who had just demonstrated such extraordinary wealth.

As Cullen shifted position to accommodate the growing crowd, he found himself facing directly toward Veronica. Their gazes collided unexpectedly across the space between them.

For one suspended moment, Veronica felt her carefully constructed composure crack. Then she jerked her eyes away, heat flooding her cheeks.

Cullen's expression revealed nothing as he turned his attention back to his admirers, dismissing her presence as if she were invisible.

Niall had been watching the entire exchange with sharp eyes. A slow, triumphant smile spread across her lips as she witnessed Cullen's complete indifference toward his former wife.

The socializing continued for another fifteen minutes, with Cullen holding court like visiting royalty. Whitney's throat had grown parched from the lengthy conversation, and she finally suggested they get drinks before heading home.

They moved toward the refreshment station, but Veronica could still feel the weight of everything that had transpired tonight pressing down on her shoulders like a stone.