The message went through. Miles didn't look at his phone again.
Her hope crumbled with each passing second.
They had been married for three years. One week after signing the marriage certificate, he'd left for overseas. He came back a handful of times each year, and she was always the last to know.
Like today. If she hadn't stumbled upon him here, she would have assumed he was still abroad.
A husband who couldn't be bothered to acknowledge her existence—and she'd actually hoped he would help her?
She laughed bitterly at herself, then switched contacts and sent another message.
Moments later, Miles stood and stepped away to take a call. When he returned, his gaze cut toward her like a blade.
Molly ignored it. The brooch had belonged to her father. She'd had no choice but to call her mother-in-law and ask her to intervene—to pressure Miles into letting her have it.
But things didn't go as planned.
The moment Miles sat back down, his mistress called out a new bid: twenty million dollars.
Her friend fumed, ready to counter, but Molly stopped her, eyes rimmed with red.
In Harbor City, who could outspend the third son of the Vance family?
She had grown accustomed to his coldness, his neglect. But still—her heart felt like it was being torn apart.
After the auction ended, Molly found Miles.
She kept her voice low, her pride swallowed. "Can I have the brooch? I'll pay double what you bid."
Miles was tall, and he looked down at her with detached indifference.
Molly was beautiful—dark hair falling loose around her shoulders, skin pale as porcelain. The way she tilted her chin up, eyes bright with quiet desperation, could easily stir pity in anyone watching.
It was the same look she'd worn three years ago when she'd turned to his parents and said, "I want Miles Vance. Is that possible?"
The chill in his eyes deepened. "Once was enough."
The color drained from Molly's face. Once was enough...
Did he think today was the same as three years ago? That she was trying to steal something from this woman, just like she'd supposedly stolen him?
"That's not—"
Miles cut her off, uninterested in explanations. He accepted the jewelry case from the auction staff and turned to leave.
Molly panicked, grabbing his arm. "It belonged to my father—"
His gaze dropped to her fingers on his sleeve. The coldness there ran bone-deep, laced with undisguised contempt.
"Let go."