Chapter 673: You’re Just a Scheming Bitch

Chapter 673: Chapter 673: You’re Just a Scheming Bitch

Leona Grant looked at her gently and pulled her into his arms. "Are you sure you don’t want it?"

Annabelle Linton shook her head. "No."

"Then just tell me if you see something else you like later."

"Okay."

Annabelle Linton smiled, then turned to face Mrs. Yates and said gently, "My apologies, Mrs. Yates. I’ve only had my eyes on this vase from the very beginning. I thought it was exquisite, which is why I wanted to buy it. I suppose I can only blame your family heirloom for being too beautiful. I was being a little childish just now—you won’t hold it against me, will you? Since it’s your family’s heirloom, I’ll withdraw. It’s all yours. Please, go ahead and buy it."

Mrs. Yates looked at Annabelle Linton, sensing that things weren’t so simple. And just as she suspected, her expression changed in the next moment—

The host, a professional smile on his face, lightened the mood. "I’ve been in this business for many years, but this is the first time I’ve seen someone as charitable and remarkably gracious as Mrs. Grant.

"The saying ’a heart as vast as the ocean’ must have been coined for people like Mrs. Grant. And as for our Young Master Grant, the way he dotes on his wife has certainly given us all a front-row seat to their love story! Come on, let’s give a thunderous round of applause for Mrs. Grant and Young Master Grant! May these kind-hearted people be forever loving and blissful!"

CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP— Thanks to the host’s charisma and eloquence, the atmosphere became electric. Thunderous applause erupted as everyone sang Annabelle Linton’s praises.

Then, the host turned to Mr. and Mrs. Yates and said with a smile, "The minimum bid increment is five hundred thousand. The price has now reached three hundred million. Might I ask how much President Yates would like to raise the bid by?"

All eyes fell on them.

Three hundred million for a single vase!

The word "gloomy" was no longer enough to describe the look on Mr. Yates’s face; it was utterly livid.

It suddenly dawned on Mrs. Yates. ’We’ve been played by that bitch!’

’Three hundred million for a vase? Of course we can’t afford that!’

’But if we don’t buy it, we’ll become a laughingstock! Everyone will look down on us!’

’And even if we did buy it, not a single person would praise us for being kind or charitable—the price was driven up by Leona Grant simply because Annabelle Linton liked it, a clear testament to how much he loves her.’

’Meanwhile, Annabelle Linton was buying it for charity, only to generously relinquish her claim upon learning it was our ’heirloom.’’

’So no matter what, we’re the ones left holding the bag, while they get all the glory!’

’We would be buying the vase just to get our heirloom back—it has nothing to do with charity!’

’But Annabelle Linton gets labeled as beautiful, kind-hearted, and graceful, with a doting husband to boot!’

Mrs. Yates felt a great fire raging in her chest, hot enough to burn the entire world to ashes.

SLAP!

She viciously slapped Annabelle Linton across the face and roared, "You scheming bitch! You must be enjoying this, putting us in such an impossible position, aren’t you? Have you had your fun yet? Is the show over?!"

With that, she charged onto the stage, snatched the vase, and tried to shove it into Annabelle Linton’s arms.

The host and the audience were stunned by her sudden outburst, completely forgetting how to react.

Mrs. Yates came down from the stage with the vase, stomping toward Annabelle Linton in her high heels and screaming, "You bitch! All you want is to rely on men to get what you want, right? You just want to use your slutty wiles and dirty tricks to crush us and feed your own vanity! Well, let me tell you, you’ve won! You’re the most amazing person in the whole world, okay?! Is that what you wanted to hear?!"

Reeling from the slap, Annabelle Linton stared at her, dumbfounded. Everyone was watching Mrs. Yates and her.

No one noticed as she, mimicking how Vivian Yates had framed her in one of Leona Grant’s dreams, gave a subtle flick of her foot, sending her black gemstone earring skittering across the floor—