At the auction house, I picked out a diamond ring to be our wedding ring—mine and Brandon's. But no matter how high I raised my paddle, the girl Brandon sponsored always outbid me.

Brandon gave a helpless laugh, his tone light. "Honey, Maisy really loves shiny things. Let her have it, okay? We'll find another one."

I smiled coldly in return and retaliated by crushing her every bid. I kept mine open, no ceiling, no mercy, until I took everything she wanted. That day, Maisy ran out of the auction hall in tears.

Brandon only chuckled, kissing my forehead with that same resigned affection. "My little tigress... always so willful."

He didn't bother chasing after her. After we got married, he came to me every night, trying out a different position each time. He never gave me a break.

One day, an invitation arrived for a private auction.

And there it was—one of our most intimate moments. A photo of me beneath Brandon, eyes glassy with desire, plastered across a giant screen... as an auction item.

Brandon had his arm around Maisy's waist.

"Didn't you like outbidding people?" he asked smoothly. "There are three hundred sixty-five private photos here. If you don't want them falling into someone else's hands, you'd better start bidding—one by one."

——

I stood in the auction hall, frozen, while dozens of men around me chuckled and commented, eyes glued to the screen.

"This woman's hot, huh? I've seen everything in my day, but a photo like this? I'm hard already."

"Tsk. Who would've thought? Leia Graham—always so stuck-up—but in bed? Damn, she's better than a pro."

"Mr. Willis really scored. Took down a daughter of a distinguished family and ruined her properly."

One man winked at Brandon, who was seated at the head of the table like a king surveying his domain.

I clenched my fists, trembling as I turned to look at the man I once called my husband. Sitting beside him, in the seat that used to be mine, was Maisy.

Brandon didn't even try to hide it. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Whoever wins the photos gets the full recording of that night, too. Complimentary."

The crowd erupted in laughter and jeers.

"Mr. Willis, you're too generous!"

He glanced at me, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Don't give me that look. Like I said—you can always outbid them. Three hundred sixty-five photos. Go on."

"Mr. Willis, don't you know? The Graham family went bankrupt not long ago. Miss Graham doesn't have much left!"

"Each round costs five million. If she even has ten million liquid, that's probably all she's got."

Brandon arched an eyebrow, pretending to be surprised. "Oh? Is that so?"

"Shame, really. Each of those three hundred sixty-five shots is a masterpiece. I'm tempted to snatch them all and study them properly," one man said, stroking his chin. "Too bad only Mr. Willis has the firepower to do that."

Brandon chuckled and lifted his hand casually. "Gentlemen, for today's auction, Willis Group will not be bidding on any of the items. All proceeds go to charity. Knock yourselves out."

The room burst into applause.

"Now that's a businessman!"

"Thank god Willis Group pressured Graham Holdings' partners to back out. Otherwise, we wouldn't even have these photos!"

"What's there to worry about? There are dozens of us here. If no one fights over them, we can each walk away with one."

"No way! That third photo? Too sexy. I have to win that one."

Only I remained still, trembling, as the noise around me swelled.

I turned to Brandon, my voice low and cracking. "Graham Holdings' collapse... that was you?"

He looked at me and smiled, saying nothing.

Tears welled in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. My throat burned. "Why... just because I outbid her a year ago?"

He ignored my pain, picked up the mic and addressed the crowd. "Time's limited. If Miss Graham isn't bidding, I'll let everyone else begin."

The men all turned to look at me, smug grins and mockery in their eyes.

Each of them was a giant in the industry. Titans. The ten million I had left meant nothing to them—barely enough for one of their weekend getaways.

How could I possibly compete with them?

"I'm going to the restroom." I wiped my tears in haste and turned to leave the hall. If I didn't walk out now, I would completely fall apart in front of them.

Laughter erupted behind me.

"So even sluts have pride, huh? Hahaha!"

"Mr. Willis, don't wait for her. She thinks ten million is enough to play with us? What a joke! She just doesn't dare admit she's broke—ran off using the bathroom as an excuse!"

"Shut up." Brandon's voice sliced through the noise like a blade, cold and absolute.

He stared in the direction I'd gone. The room instantly fell silent. No one dared challenge him.

A few minutes later, I pushed the door open again.

I walked back in, still under the blinding lights and took my seat without hesitation. My eyes were red, but my gaze was steady. "Let's begin."

Brandon turned to me and for a brief second, surprise flickered in his eyes.

To showcase the photos more clearly, the screen behind the auctioneer had been replaced with a panoramic wraparound display. It cycled through images of my humiliation in high definition, a full 360-degree broadcast. No matter where one sat in the room, every degrading angle of me was there to enjoy.

"First photo," the auctioneer said with a knowing smile. "Starting bid, five hundred thousand!"

A collective gasp swept through the hall.

"Beautiful! Absolutely beautiful! A perfect fusion of elegance and depravity. Trust Miss Graham, the daughter of a scholarly family, to be this wild in bed."

"Seven hundred and a half!"

The screen flashed again, not just the photo—but a written scene accompanying it. I stood up abruptly. It was a vivid narrative, describing the precise moment the photo was taken. My wedding night with Brandon.

The wording, the rhythm... it was too detailed, too intimate. Only one other person could've written something like that.

I turned toward Brandon, trembling. He sat there, detached, a faint sneer curled at the corners of his mouth, like none of this had anything to do with him. Only when Maisy leaned in to whisper did his expression soften—gentle, affectionate.

Around me, the crowd roared louder, excitement rippling through them like a wave.

"And I thought the pictures were hot—turns out the story behind them is even steamier! Hands off, everyone! Two million! That photo's mine!"

"Three million!"

"She was this wild on her first night? Can't even imagine what happened afterward... Tsk, tsk. Five million!"

"I'm keeping my bid open!" My own trembling voice broke through the din.

All eyes snapped to me.

The auctioneer kept his practiced smile as he turned in my direction. "Bidder 38 wants to keep her bid open—are you certain?"

I sank back into my seat. My voice was barely audible. "I'm sure."

"Tsk! Shame. That one's a real masterpiece."

"What are you worried about? How many can she even afford to burn?"

"Exactly. The deeper it goes, the dirtier it gets. The real gold is in the later photos."

"Bidder 38 has chosen to keep her bid open!" the auctioneer announced with relish. "Anyone else? Going once... going twice... Congratulations to Miss Graham for securing the photo!"

I shut my eyes. My fingernails dug deep into my palms until I could feel warm blood.

The screen transitioned immediately. The second photo appeared—along with a new introduction.

"Second photo. Starting bid, five hundred thousand!"

The crowd erupted once more.

"This one's real? Damn! Hotter than every training video I've ever seen."

Someone near me leaned in and nudged my arm with his elbow.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk! Never would've guessed. You look so innocent—but underneath it all, you're just a filthy little thing."

I glared at him.

He laughed, unbothered. "Hey, I like girls like you! Mr. Willis doesn't want you anymore—why not come to me? I'll bid on one for you, how's that sound?"

"Don't touch me." My voice was ice.

He snorted and leaned back, bored. "Stop pretending. Just another broken toy. Ten hundred thousand!"

"A million!"

"Three million!"

"I..." My throat was dry, but I forced the words out anyway. "I'm keeping my bid open!"

I had no idea where the strength came from. Maybe it was the last thread holding me together. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was the hope that even if I burned, I'd burn on my own terms.

The auctioneer paused, then gave me a long, meaningful look. He smiled.

"Bidder 38 chooses to keep her bid open!"

The deal was sealed. The auctioneer turned to me again, still wearing that professional smile.

"You've kept your bid open twice already. According to your asset verification, you only have less than ten million in liquid cash left. Do you know what that means?"

My voice was drained. "Keep going."

"Heh." The disdain on the auctioneer's face twitched before he pulled up the next slide. "Third photo. Starting bid, five hundred thousand!"

"I'm keeping my bid open!"

The moment my voice rang out, heads turned. Whispers died mid-breath. Some people blinked in disbelief; others exchanged incredulous glances.

The auctioneer gave me a sharp look. "Miss Graham, your pre-auction verification showed less than ten million. You've already committed more than eight million. Your remaining funds aren't enough."

From the side, a man chuckled and leaned forward. "Please, sweetheart, let me cover one for you."

I ignored him. My gaze slid straight to Brandon.

He was watching me, too—expression calm, eyes faintly amused, a cruel smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Not even a flicker of concern. There wasn't the slightest intention to step in.

The others turned toward him. After all, I was still legally his wife.

"Why are you all looking at me?" Brandon's voice was slow, amused. "I already said—let the guests bid however they like."

Laughter rippled across the room.

"Thank you, Mr. Willis, for your generosity in stepping back!"

Relieved, the men leaned back, grinning. Their game had just been made easier.

Then, from beside Brandon, Maisy suddenly raised her hand.

"I'm keeping my bid open for this photo. On behalf of Leia."

Her voice rang out, soft and deliberate.

Brandon turned to her. For the first time that night, surprise registered in his expression—then quickly gave way to an indulgent smile. His features softened as he looked at her.

Maisy smiled at me, all wide-eyed and innocent. "After all, you once paid for my tuition to study abroad. I haven't forgotten your kindness."

The room buzzed again. Whispers turned to laughter.

"No wonder Mr. Willis likes her—who wouldn't fall for someone that sweet?"

"Maisy's a good girl. Just hearing a dirty joke makes her blush. Not like someone else here—tsk, tsk!"

The words cut sharper than any knife. Their eyes stabbed into me, gleaming with scorn.

A glimmer of satisfaction flashed across Maisy's lips before she turned back to me, still wearing that sugary smile. "Leia, don't worry."

"Hypocrite." I sneered.

She froze. "What?"

"Is this your way of repaying me? By taking my place and seducing my man?" I leaned back in the chair. "Sorry—I haven't sunk so low that I need help from an ungrateful bitch."

"Leia!"

For the first time all night, Brandon addressed me directly. His tone was cold, foreign. Like I was a stranger.

I gave him a sidelong glance, my voice sharp. "I'm keeping my bid open. Just do your job."

The auctioneer hesitated. "If you insist, we'll have to factor in the remaining real estate under Graham Holdings. But since the company's gone bankrupt, those assets have severely depreciated. Even with that, it might barely scrape together six million."

"Just do it," I said flatly. "No need for commentary."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. This woman's completely out of her mind." One of the men shook his head, clearly entertained.

"She's even giving up her place to live now? All for pride? What a waste."

"The third one was the one I wanted the moment I saw it."

"No worries. There are still over three hundred photos left. What's the rush?"

"Exactly. I peeked ahead—she just gets filthier and more pathetic from here on. Hahaha!"

Their voices blended into a wall of noise—mockery, cruelty, amusement. A symphony of vultures circling a corpse.

Their eyes found me again.

A few were pitying. Most weren't.

"A cornered beast lashing out," someone snorted.

"Wait for the next one," another added. "She won't be able to do a thing. We'll be the ones bidding on her private photos."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk! I really want to see her face then." A man licked his lips. "Think it'll be the same expression she made in Mr. Willis's bed?"

Sneering laughter filled the hall. But I didn't flinch.

Let them laugh. Let them show their fangs. The wolves could circle all they liked. I was still standing.