Rebirth In Divorce My New Mr. Perfect (by Summer Knowles) novel Chapter 809

Mr. Wilson glared hatefully at Zachary's retreating figure, trembling with rage yet powerless to act.

He had no time to waste feuding with Zachary. Wilson Group's most important partnership of the year had already been stolen—he needed to find alternative solutions quickly.

Just when he was at his wit's end, the marketing director proposed a new plan.

"Mr. Wilson, Mr. Landon is obsessed with antiques. If you could give him a gift that captures his interest, perhaps we could consider expanding overseas. That way, even if Reynolds Corporation tries to interfere, it won't be easy for them."

It was a desperate measure—a last-ditch effort.

Mr Landon was a titan in international investment companies, wielding enormous influence. If they could establish a connection with him, they could open doors to countless new partnerships through his network.

However, while Mr Landon's industry influence ran deep, his temperament was equally notorious—he was notoriously difficult to deal with.

Mr. Wilson didn't deliberate long before making his decision. He ordered his people to investigate upcoming activities at major auction houses.

His assistant quickly returned with news, "Mr. Wilson, there's a black market opening in C City in two days. Through our underground contacts, I've learned this auction will have exactly what we're looking for."

Mr. Wilson gently stroked the luminous pearl on his walking stick, eyes narrowing as a flash of ruthlessness crossed his face. "Prepare the car and blank checks. We must seize this opportunity at any cost."

The assistant acknowledged and went to make preparations.

Black market auctions differed vastly from legitimate ones. Most notably, the crowd was dangerous, with virtually no legal constraints—as long as you had money and power, even human lives could be traded freely.

Mr. Wilson brought only two bodyguards, instructing them to keep a low profile before entering the auction house.

His target item was scheduled last. After several hours, Mr. Wilson grew increasingly restless.

Finally, when a sultry woman wheeled out the pharaoh's mask and scepter, the auctioneer had barely announced the minimum bid before Mr. Wilson struck first, hitting his bidding button, "One billion US dollars."

This was the maximum he could afford. If anyone bid higher, his plan would likely fail.

Mr. Wilson leaned forward, scanning the other skyboxes like a man under siege.

The auctioneer began the countdown. Just as Mr. Wilson was about to breathe in relief, a disturbingly familiar male voice suddenly rang out, doubling the price.

Mr. Wilson's body went rigid, his eyes filling with disbelief.