The Jilted Heiress' Return to the High Life - Chapter 96

Chapter 96:

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“Miss Nixon, I genuinely hope to meet with Miss Holland. Surely, you can help facilitate this—”

“Apologies, but I cannot assist you,” Natasha cut in, her voice resolute.

She ended the call without giving him another moment to speak. The abrupt disconnection left Bruce staring at the phone in disbelief, his jaw tightening. A cold shadow crossed his expression, and the air in the car seemed to drop several degrees.

His assistant, who had been quietly watching the exchange, finally gathered the courage to speak, his voice timid.

“Mr. Ashton, we’ve arrived.”

Bruce lifted his gaze, his dark eyes narrowing into sharp, cutting slits as they locked onto his assistant, who fidgeted nervously in the front seat.

“Did we manage to uncover anything worthwhile about Ford Group?” His tone was flat, devoid of warmth, yet it carried a weight that demanded an answer. Bruce had noted that the only real threat in this bidding war was Ford Group.

In terms of status and capital, Ashton Group could not match their power. But this land was non-negotiable.

The assistant, wilting under Bruce’s cold stare, swallowed audibly and stammered, “A-All I know is that Miss Holland, the mysterious CEO of Ford Group, is attending in person…”

“Ha!” Bruce’s laugh was low and humorless, his lips curving into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. He raised his chin slightly, fingers moving with practiced ease as he buttoned his tailored jacket.

“Mysterious or not, we’ll see what kind of person she really is soon enough.”

Without waiting for a response, he swung the car door open and stepped out with an air of unshakable confidence.

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The minutes ticked by, and Corrine arrived at the venue just in time, slipping in a mere five minutes before the bidding was set to commence. By then, most of the attendees had already taken their seats, the room abuzz with murmured conversations and curious glances aimed at Ford Group’s section. Preferring to avoid the spotlight, Corrine chose a seat in a shadowed, unassuming corner, her movements graceful but deliberate.

Today, every gaze seemed to linger on Ford Group’s reserved seating. All eyes were drawn to the possibility of glimpsing the elusive Miss Holland, the figure who had stirred so much intrigue.

As the attendees of the bidding event waited, the expected individual failed to appear. Growing impatient, they began muttering to each other.

“What do you think Miss Holland means by this? Has she abandoned the auction?”

“I wouldn’t jump to that conclusion. Word has it that Ford Group, under Miss Holland’s direction, is quite intent on securing the southern district land. Women seldom stand toe-to-toe with men in our field, right? Maybe the pressure was too much for Miss Holland.”

“Miss Holland was Carl Ford’s handpicked successor. She could live off her inheritance without lifting a finger, yet these people are making baseless assumptions,” a light-hearted voice remarked.

Zack Liam, adjusting his glasses, peered at the vacant chair meant for the CEO of Ford Group, then subtly glanced at Nate beside him.

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