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My Wife Divorced Me at the Auction, I Made Her Regret Novel Cover

My Wife Divorced Me at the Auction, I Made Her Regret

At a high-profile charity auction, Douglas faces ultimate public humiliation when his own wife openly sides with her assistant, Johan Liberty. Both men desire the same painting, but instead of allowing a fair bidding war, Douglas's wife lights the bid lamp for Johan, sneeringly reminding her husband of his lowly status as a mere live-in son-in-law. Pushed to his limit, Douglas decides he is done staying quiet, shocking the entire room by bidding exactly one dollar more than whatever his wife offers.
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Chapter 1

Over the weekend, my wife and I were both invited to attend a charity auction.

During the bidding, my wife's assistant named Johan Liberty and I happened to take a liking to the same painting.

I was about to compete fairly when, right in front of me, my wife lit the bid lamp for her assistant, "Douglas, you're just a live-in son-in-law in our family. What right do you have to fight with me?"

Just as the other bidders began withdrawing one by one, I snapped my fingers toward the auctioneer, "Whatever price my wife offers, I'll add ... one more dollar!"

——

As soon as I said that, every guest at the auction turned to look at me.

Moments later, the room erupted in laughter, "This guy must be crazy, right? Fighting his own wife for something? He must have more money than sense!"

"He's not just crazy, he's got no brain at all. A mere son-in-law daring to challenge Miss Mason in public, completely out of line."

"I heard before coming that the Mason Family took in a live-in son-in-law some years ago. Didn't expect to actually see him here."

As the whispers grew louder, Savannah's face darkened.

The next second, she stood up abruptly and pointed at me, shouting, "Douglas, put your hand down right now, do you hear me? You're spending my family's money, how do you even have the nerve to fight me?"

I leaned calmly back into my chair, looking at her indifferently, "Savannah, I'm still your husband, at the very least. Show some respect when you talk to me."

I continued, "If I see something I like, why should I give it up to someone else? Besides, I've never spent a cent of your family's money, so stop making things up."

Halfway through, my tone turned sharp, "Remember that, I've never spent a cent of your family's money. Don't just say whatever you want."

Savannah turned red with anger at my words, "Douglas, how many times have I told you to call me 'Miss Mason' in public? You're just a dog raised by my family, we have nothing to do with each other!"

I sighed lightly and fixed my gaze on her, "Alright Miss Mason, are you seriously going to fight me over something just for your assistant?"

In fact, the moment I walked into the auction, I already sensed something was off.

Logically speaking, as Savannah's husband, I should have been seated beside her, not shoved into a corner.

Even so, I endured it. After all, her father, Mr. Richard Mason, had always treated me decently and often invited me to play chess. As a good man, it was only right for me to be patient with a wife who acted a little spoiled woman.

But who would've thought that the seat which should have been mine was now occupied by my wife's assistant, Johan. A fresh college graduate who, aside from looking pale and delicate, was utterly clueless at his job.

Yet my foolish wife just had to stand up for him. Just thinking about it made the fury in me boil.

But Savannah, hailed as a rising star in the business world, didn't notice anything wrong. She kept going at me relentlessly, "Douglas, who do you think you are? My decisions are not for you to question."

"All these years of marriage, you ate our food, lived in our house. What do you have to compete with me?" she sneered.

At the end, Savannah suddenly lost control of her emotions, "I'm not afraid to tell you today, I'm going to win this painting and gift it to Johan!"

Before I could even get angry, Johan who sat next to her couldn't sit still any longer. He looked at me with a smirk of provocation, "Mr. Powell, I suggest you give up. Or else you'll be sleeping outside and wash the dishes when you get home tonight."

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