Chapter 203

At that moment, I didn't dwell on the past—the memories of us, the small moments once so significant. I seemed to have truly let go. There was no anger, no resentment, only a familiar face, a stranger I hadn't seen in years.

"Mr. Parker, it's been a while," I said, smiling graciously.

The words were barely out when Hayden's expression darkened, the warmth vanishing from his face. Yasir, his shock evident, rushed to me. "Yvonne, you're really alive?" he asked, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Yes," I replied, nodding, offering no secrets or lies. I could have returned under a different identity, but where was the thrill in that? Seeing the expressions on Yosef, Sophia, and Joanna's faces was a priceless spectacle.

"But why so long? You didn't even contact us? Is Jethive Group… yours?" Yasir bombarded me with questions, his eyes nearly bulging. Nevin stood beside him, staring as if disbelieving his own sight. "Yvonne… didn't die…"

I was about to speak when a voice cut through the crowd. "Yvonne?"

I froze. No need to look; I knew instantly. It was Lucy. For years, only she had called me that. In the past, those syllables warmed my heart. Now, it felt like plunging into an ice cellar, the chill seeping into my bones.

Fate, however, wouldn't allow refusal. In an instant, Lucy stood before me, her eyes bloodshot, trembling as she touched my hand. "Yvonne, you're really alive," she stammered. She was so emotional, I thought she might embrace me. For a split second, I felt an urge to recoil, perhaps because of her connection to Joanna, or maybe her delicate pink dress, the butterfly bow I feared I might crush. But then Lucy froze, her wide, tear-filled eyes confused. "Yvonne, what… what's happening?" she whispered.

"Miss Coffey, don't crease your bow," I said, a slight smile playing on my lips. She blinked, then looked down at her dress, realizing her mistake.

Hayden hadn't missed a thing. His brow furrowed slightly as he stepped toward me, his voice low and rich, surprisingly gentle. "Yvonne, where have you been all these years?"

His usual cold indifference made this unexpected gentleness jarring. "We've been divorced for a while. Where I go is no longer your concern, is it?" I replied, maintaining my polite, distant smile. Hayden's eyes froze, the ice returning to his gaze.

Marlon intervened. "Mr. Parker, you're overstepping, don't you think?" Nevin, Hayden's ever-loyal defender, jumped to his side. "What are you talking about? They're a couple. What's it to you?" I raised an eyebrow, surprised he still considered me his "sister-in-law." Was he truly that deluded?

Around us, people murmured in hushed tones. "Is it really Yvonne?" "Unbelievable! Thought she was dead. How did she survive?" "She's alive? A miracle." "Are you sure she's not a ghost seeking revenge?"

That last comment made me laugh. I turned to Joanna, whose face had gone pale. "If I were a ghost, who should I seek revenge on?" Joanna's eyes widened in terror, tears welling. Perhaps she sensed death closer than she imagined.

Sophia reacted in panic. "Oh my God, it's you, Yvonne! We've been praying for your return! You can't imagine how much your father and we've missed you."

I stepped away, a wry smile curling my lips. "Should I thank you for that?" Sophia's composure faltered, her smile a forced twitch. "Yvonne…" Yosef cried, tears streaming down his face. I couldn't decipher their meaning, but they reminded me of crocodiles—crying while they eat, perhaps to appear less cruel.

Before anyone could react, the auction host took the stage. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Wavepeak Stadium's auction. The auction is about to begin. Please take your seats."

The tension broke, the crowd dispersing, though curiosity lingered. I didn't look back, walking toward my seat, feeling a hundred gazes upon me. Once, I would have followed Hayden, reliant on him. Today, I stood alone.

Marlon, accompanying me, commented, "For a moment, I thought you might tear Joanna apart." I recalled my initial fury upon returning to Elysiumville, my longing for confrontation. But after three years, I wasn't that impulsive. "Didn't you say? A gentleman waits ten years for revenge," I replied coldly, each word devoid of emotion. Marlon smiled slightly as we sat down. "That family is in for a shock," he added, glancing over his shoulder.

Yosef and his group sat far away, not daring to approach. Then Marlon said, "Hayden's coming." My brow twitched. I didn't turn, but felt a presence approaching. The faint scent of tobacco reached my nostrils—only Hayden smelled like that. But the seat next to me was marked "Herbbite Construction"—how had Hayden ended up here? I stiffened, ignoring him.

Marlon spoke. "Mr. Parker, I think you have the wrong seat. The Parker Group should be in the front row." The seating was carefully arranged for business moguls; the closer to the front, the more powerful and wealthy. Jethive Group, while well-known overseas, was new to Elysiumville, placing us in the third row. The organizers seemed to be showing me some respect. But no one expected Hayden to sit next to me. Even without the spotlight, I felt every eye in the room on us. I sat on pins and needles.