I intended to buy my husband’s favorite Renaissance Venetian glass stallion as an anniversary present.
But halfway through the auction, a mysterious bidder intervened, placing unlimited bidding, and snatched the porcelain steed right from under me.
As I turned to leave, I received an alert indicating that my husband’s secondary credit card had been used at the auction house—the purchase was for the very same Renaissance Venetian glass stallion.
Panic set in and I immediately called the bank to freeze the card.
At the collection counter, a breathtakingly beautiful woman with a graceful figure hurried away, red-faced, amid the crowd’s derision.
Half a month later, Oliver Galley and I went on vacation abroad. As soon as we got off the plane, I was suddenly knocked out.
When I came to, I found myself trapped in an iron cage.
The host at the event said in broken English, “We’re auctioning this woman today—the highest bidder wins her!”
And there was Oliver in the audience, his expression cold and unforgiving.
“Amy Mabre, you enjoy outshining others who placed unlimited bidding, don’t you? Well, today you’ll get your chance!”
***
I gazed in horror at the thick crowd below, my skin prickling with fear.
Each person held my body scan reports, discussing them loudly.
“Check out this woman—she’s in excellent condition. Every part of her is healthy. You can either buy her as a whole to bring home or divide her parts for family patients. She’s first-rate.”
“Who would have guessed Mr. Galley from America would be so generous? Offering such a remarkable woman for auction—don’t miss this unique opportunity.”
“Rumor has it that the one on stage is Mr. Galley’s wife. Now that he has a new lover, why hold on to the old one?”
Following the direction of their significant glances, I spotted Oliver in the crowd, and a chill ran through me.
My rope-bound body slammed against the iron bars with a loud thud as my nails pierced my skin, causing blood to seep through my fingers.
Just yesterday, we had joyfully planned our trip together.
Now, Jessica Dabel—the casual friend he had said was assisting with the auction for the Renaissance Venetian glass stallion—rested comfortably in his embrace, her face lit with a triumphant grin.
“Oliver, why are you doing this to me?”
My voice wavered with despair, tears choking my words.
Oliver reclined leisurely in his chair, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “My wife is so sophisticated—naturally, I can’t keep her all to myself. Sharing is caring, right?”
The room exploded with enthusiastic cheers as the crowd urged the host to begin right away.
Tycoons from various countries had gathered, their black bidding paddles held aloft, frantically debating whether to place bids on my heart or kidney.
Oliver leaned in to kiss Jessica before stepping onto the auction stage. He kicked the iron cage containing me, instantly splitting the corner of my lip. A metallic taste filled my mouth.
“Amy, as the auction’s sponsor, I’ll grant you a unique privilege—allowing you to bid on yourself. Relish the thrill of being in the spotlight and experience the humiliation Jessica felt at the last auction!”
His polished, clear eyes brimmed with mocking malice, and the underlying murderous intent made it clear—he had no plans of letting me leave the auction hall alive.
“You can always keep bidding on yourself!”
Upon hearing those words, the entire crowd erupted in laughter, turning their attention toward us.
“What unlimited bidding can she possibly place? Didn’t Mr. Galley transfer all the money from your joint accounts into his own when he arrived here? Unless Mr. Galley decides to pay, Mrs. Galley doesn’t have a single cent left.”
Oliver pretended to have a sudden realization.
“Oh no, how could I forget? Only one person can register for the same fund account. What a shame, my dear wife. I still have to buy a necklace for Jessica today—so I can’t assist you.”
I looked at him in shock, unable to believe these words were coming from the husband I had cherished for eight years.
“You tricked me into traveling abroad, drugged and abducted me, and even set up this black-market auction to sell me off?
“Why, Oliver? Just because I froze the secondary card’s payment function when Jessica placed unlimited bidding?”
Oliver gazed at me coldly, relishing my distress.
“Of course. Do you know how helpless Jessica felt that day? She was laughed at by so many people. You can endure it too, can’t you?”
Without giving me another opportunity to question him, he turned and walked off the stage.
He icily issued a single command.
“Handcuff and shackle Ms. Mabre, and have her sit among the auction audience. Watching her own descent into the abyss, powerless to stop it—that’s the most gratifying form of retribution!”
Standing below the stage, Jessica gave me a sly wink and a wicked grin.
“Ms. Mabre, I won’t be competing with you today!”
