Page 52 of Auctioned to My Bratva Boss

She immediately rushed over looking relieved.

"Matvey." Veronica sounded displeased, voice low.

"You're the one who wanted her here." I shot her a look.

Veronica practically ground her teeth.

To keep Riley from feeling awkward, I sent her over to the dessert table nearby.

"Oh! Miss Gadz, wonderful to see you." A woman in her forties approached Veronica, champagne in hand. "I've worked with your father for ten years... we've met."

Veronica's face instantly arranged itself into a flawless smile.

"Of course I remember you." They clinked glasses, then Veronica's gaze landed on me. "This is my... husband."

"So the remarriage rumors are true?" Another middle-aged man joined us. "That's excellent news."

Max Evan. Precious metals trader. Long-time partner with Veronica's family.

"Naturally." Her body heat pressed closer. "Very soon."

I never said that.

Veronica had always been trouble. I'd known it for years—back when she was still my wife.

Ours had been a strategic marriage, nothing more. I had no feelings for her. But out of marital obligation, I'd treated her well. I'd given her everything she asked for, business and personal. And the bitch had still cheated—with some young Spaniard.

I hadn't called her out. Just gave her one long look.

"In that case," a server passed by, and I used grabbing champagne as an excuse to extract my arm from Veronica's clutches, "that deserves a drink."

Riley's reflection appeared in my glass. She leaned against a table, eating fruit. No one approached her, but plenty of men stared hungrily. I turned. Her blue eyes met mine. She looked away, kept stuffing her face.

"Who's that sexy beauty?" Max pointed toward Riley, clearly interested.

"My assistant." My tone came out harsh.

"Riley." Veronica suddenly called Riley's name loudly. "Come here!"

Riley immediately wobbled over in her heels. Adorable as hell.

"Miss Gadz." She nodded slightly at Veronica. "What do you need?"

"These are all our business partners. As an assistant, you should learn to network." Veronica held out a champagne flute.

"Of course." Riley reached for the glass.

"Ah—" Veronica "stumbled," splashing the entire glass of golden liquid down Riley's front.

The semi-sheer fabric at Riley's chest and hem turned practically transparent, flesh-toned underneath clearly visible.

That fucking bitch!

"Oh... I'm so sorry." Veronica's hand froze mid-air. "I lost my balance."

Riley stood frozen. Her blonde hair was soaked, stuck to her skin, champagne dripping down her dress. She looked heartbreakingly pitiful.

Every eye in the room turned toward us. Riley was center stage. Most looks were curious, surprised, but some men's gazes were pure sleaze. I wanted to gouge their eyes out right there.