Chapter 3
When the host lost his cool, the room went silent.
The staff cuffed my hands, and I kept my back straight as I stumbled toward the water basin outside the door.
Only when the cold water splashed over my injured hands did my tense muscles briefly relax.
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Exhausted, I collapsed onto the ground next to the basin, and the tears I’d been holding back finally flowed freely.
While the phone remained in my pocket, all the money from my account had been drained, leaving a balance of zero.
If I were auctioned off that night, I dreaded to think of the horrors that awaited me.
I might be cruelly dismembered and sold after being tormented, finding no peace even in death.
My mother, in a coma in a hospital back in our home country after a car accident, would lose her medical funds and die in despair following my
demise.
With no other options, I made a firm decision.
Clenching my teeth, I opened the long–neglected contact account in my encrypted email.
The sound of rushing water echoed against the basin’s stone wall, amplifying the eerie silence around me.
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In this dangerous, rundown venue, it felt like a monstrous presence lurked, ready to pounce and tear me apart.
After sending the encrypted message, my hand fell heavily.
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Five minutes later, I clinked my way back to the venue, the ankle chains dragging along.
As I pushed the door open, all eyes turned to me. Their gazes were filled with surprise, ridicule, and eager anticipation evident in their gazes.
Oliver, with a cigarette poised between his fingers, let the smoke wreath around his mysterious look like a fleeting veil.
He pulled Jessica into his embrace, shooting me a glare as he clearly pronounced, “Sweetheart, I love you. And anyone who dares to mess with you will pay the price!”
I walked straight to my seat, leaving bright red footprints in my wake.
My voice was raspy, nearly breaking as I said, “Let’s begin now.”
Chaos erupted in the room.
The auctioneer glanced at Oliver for approval.
He scoffed and nodded.
“Since Amy can’t wait any longer, let’s officially start.”
As soon as he spoke, the lights in the auction hall dimmed.
The first auction item was displayed on the giant screen, my hands.
From wrist to nail, every detail was captured in high–definition, down to the visible pores.
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On my right hand, a ludicrous ten–carat wedding ring still adorned my finger–a symbol of my tragic situation for everyone to see.
As I sat there, it felt as if living was more unbearable than dying.
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At that moment, Oliver put an arm around Jessica and sat next to me. He leaned in, whispering softly in my ear, “Now that she’s my wife, Jessica is generous. If you’re willing to apologize to her and agree to leave the marriage without taking anything, I’ll help you this once.”
A cold smirk played on my lips.
He not only wanted to ruin me but also planned to seize our shared
marital assets.
Then, like a wronged husband, he would publicly bring his mistress into our home.
I kept quiet, responding to his taunt with silence.
The auction began.
“Ms. Amy Mabre’s items start at 800 thousand dollars, with each bid increasing by 150 thousand dollars.”
As soon as the announcement was made, bidders in the room raised their paddles rapidly, pushing the price to three million.
Oliver’s voice persisted beside me, “Think it over, sweetheart. Once it’s gone, it’s gone.”
Meanwhile, the wealthy bidders leaned in closer, hungrily eyeing my clenched fists, eagerly awaiting the final bid.
At that moment, breaking my silence, I slowly raised my hand.
My eyes were filled with determination, and I announced with
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unwavering resolve, “Unlimited, please!”
