Veiled Auction Queen: Bidding For His Ex-Wife's Heart

"Emilia, the service is about to start. Is Daniel seriously still not here?" someone called out.

Wearing a simple black dress, Emilia Moore sat before her mother's coffin inside the church as the stark overhead lights washed her already pale face in a ghostly glow.

She glanced down at her phone, its battery nearly dead, and the call she had made to Daniel Wright—her husband of three years—remained unanswered.

With her mother gone, Emilia—now seven months pregnant—had spent the past week handling every detail of the funeral alone. Her husband hadn't shown up once.

Work always consumed him, and she had consistently tried to be patient and considerate about that.

Wanting to believe in him, she kept persuading herself that he must simply be overwhelmed with responsibilities.

"He must be busy. Probably can't make it," she whispered as tears slid down her face. She then slowly pushed herself upright despite the heaviness of her swollen belly and added in a hoarse, trembling voice, "Let's begin the service."

Beside her, her aunt, Lynda Moore, spoke with open scorn. "Emilia, just how busy could Daniel really be? It's been a full week, and he hasn't shown up even once. It's like your mother means absolutely nothing to him."

Kimberly Moore, Lynda's daughter, let out a derisive laugh. "Mom, you're wrong. It's not that he doesn't care about her mother—he doesn't care about her at all. And the baby she's carrying? Obviously not them either."

Their harsh laughter cut straight through Emilia, and a bitter weight tightened in her chest, yet she stubbornly reminded herself that Daniel had always fulfilled his responsibilities as a husband and would never skip something like this intentionally; he must truly be swamped with work.

Just as she barely convinced herself of that explanation, the truth struck her like a sudden blow.

Kimberly glanced down at her phone and exclaimed, "Hold on—isn't that Daniel? He's trending in the news right now!"

She intentionally turned the phone toward Emilia.

Emilia lowered her eyes. The screen showed a video that had begun spreading online that very morning, though it had clearly been recorded the night before.

The headline read, "Daniel Wright Goes All Out for Isabel Hayes' Birthday."

In the footage, dazzling fireworks burst across the dark sky while a man sat calmly in a chair, composed and authoritative, his deep gaze resting steadily on the young woman beside him as she pointed upward at the fireworks with a radiant smile.

Though the fireworks lit the sky brilliantly, Emilia's eyes remained fixed on the man.

She recognized him immediately as Daniel, her husband.

Shock and humiliation crashed over her when she realized he had spent the previous night celebrating another woman's birthday beneath those blazing fireworks.

For a long moment, her mind emptied completely. Her whole body went rigid, leaving her unable to move.

The crackling fireworks continued in the video while Kimberly's mocking voice rang out beside her. "Emilia, didn't you say your husband was busy? Oh, he's definitely busy—busy renting out an entire venue to celebrate another woman's birthday!"

Emilia's hands tightened into fists as the image of Daniel arranging such a magnificent fireworks display for someone else replayed in her mind.

All this time, she had believed he was merely occupied with work.

Even while drowning in grief after losing her mother, she had handled everything herself without asking him for help.

For an entire week, he had ignored her calls and never appeared for the funeral arrangements, yet somehow he had time to reserve a whole venue and launch fireworks for another woman's celebration. The cruel irony stung sharply.

The woman in that video was Isabel Hayes, Daniel's first love and the person who truly held his heart.

Emilia, though, had only married him because his grandfather, Danny Wright, insisted on it—a way to repay her father for saving his life.

For three years, she had clearly understood that Daniel didn't love her, and because of that, she had never burdened him with her troubles or asked anything more of him.

He had always been distant and unromantic, indifferent to holidays and completely devoted to his work. Only now did she realize that he did understand romance—he simply chose never to show it to her. With one spectacular display of fireworks, he had turned her into the biggest joke of all.

She clenched her teeth, forcing the pain back down, and turned her eyes away from the phone. She couldn't fall apart—not yet. Her mother's funeral came first. She had to get through it.

Straightening her back with effort, she ignored the mocking stares around her and slowly walked toward her mother's coffin.

Her mother's last wish had been to see Daniel one more time.

At that time, she had called him again and again without any response, and now she suspected he had probably been with Isabel even then.

Her mother had always hoped that she and Daniel would live happily together for the rest of their lives. But now Emilia felt that dream might never become reality.

After handling everything by herself, once the funeral meal ended and all the relatives and friends had departed, she sat alone in a chair in the church hall.

Daniel finally arrived, dressed entirely in black, his striking face expressionless as his gaze landed on Emilia before sweeping briefly across the silent hall, and for the first time, a trace of apology appeared in his usually unreadable expression.

Emilia raised her eyes to him, one hand resting on her swollen abdomen, and in that instant, all the pain she had buried deep inside surged violently upward.

Taking a slow breath, she forced down the bitterness clawing at her chest and kept her face blank as she asked calmly, "Finished with work?"

Daniel didn't notice the hurt hidden beneath her words. "I was stuck in meetings the whole day."

"And last night? Did you enjoy the birthday party?" Emilia asked sharply.

Daniel's eyebrows drew together. Before he could respond, a woman in a red dress stepped into the room with his jacket draped loosely over her shoulders. Isabel had followed him here.

Emilia's expression turned even colder.

"Emilia, I'm really sorry. Daniel stayed with me last night. My mother became ill a few days ago, and he didn't want me dealing with everything alone, so he stayed to help. That's why he missed your calls—it was my fault. I shouldn't have bothered him," Isabel explained gently.

Bitterness flooded Emilia's chest as she listened. "Was your mother seriously ill?"

"Not really. Just a small cold and a slight fever. She's almost fully recovered now," Isabel answered.

A dull ache settled deep in Emilia's heart, and although she struggled to restrain herself, the redness in her eyes and the slight trembling of her lips betrayed her emotions.

Daniel's frown deepened. When he first learned of Emilia's mother's death, he had been in the middle of an important meeting, and by the time it ended and he intended to attend the funeral, Isabel had run into trouble, and with one matter after another demanding his attention, Emilia had completely slipped from his mind.

Even so, he did feel a faint sense of guilt toward her.

He started toward her mother's photo, as if to offer a final tribute, but Emilia caught his arm and held him back. "There's no need. Her mother is more important. Stay with her and take care of her mother."

Daniel froze in place.

Emilia couldn't stay there any longer, so she slowly rose from the pew and prepared to leave.

She didn't cry, because she refused to waste tears on someone who didn't deserve them.

As Daniel watched her walk away slowly and with difficulty due to seven months of pregnancy, something clenched in his chest.

Isabel had called him in tears and panic simply because her mother had caught a minor illness, yet Emilia had faced the death of her own mother completely alone.

"Where are you going? You shouldn't be walking around like that. Don't forget you're pregnant," Daniel called out after her, trying to stop her.

Emilia's lips curved into a bitter smile, thinking sarcastically that he seemed to remember her pregnancy only now.

She believed he cared neither about her nor about the child she carried, since he had left his pregnant wife alone to tend to another woman's mother.

She lowered her gaze to her belly, and amid the storm of pain inside her, she seemed to reach a quiet decision as her pace quickened toward the elevator.

Daniel felt his heart sink. He started after her, but Isabel suddenly grabbed his arm. "She just lost her mother. Maybe we should give her some time alone."

He frowned at her, pulled his arm free, and replied coldly, "She's not in a good place right now. She might do something reckless. You can go home by yourself."

When Daniel walked out of the building, Emilia was already nowhere to be seen.

He scanned the bustling street ahead, then took out his phone and dialed a number. "Track Emilia's phone and find her location right away."

A faint hint of worry appeared on his otherwise calm expression.

An hour later, his assistant called. "Sir, your wife is at the hospital."

"Why is she there?" Daniel demanded, his voice drawn tight with strain.

The assistant paused before replying, "She… she went there to end the pregnancy. And she's already seen a lawyer—the divorce papers are done. She signed them."

All thoughts vanished from Daniel's mind. His eyes widened in complete disbelief.