I had my heart set on a diamond ring at the auction, the one I’d chosen to be my wedding ring. A symbol of my future with Damian. But no matter how high I bid, the young woman Damian sponsored always outbid me by a single dollar. Damian just smiled, a picture of helpless affection. "Darling," he murmured, his voice a low thrum against my ear. "You know how she is with shiny things. Just let her have it. Be good." In response, I lit the lamp. Zoe fled the hall that day, tears streaming down her face. Damian simply kissed my forehead, a soft, forgiving gesture. "My feisty girl," he chuckled. He didn't chase after Zoe. In the year that followed our wedding, he was an insatiable, inventive lover, claiming my body night after night, never giving me a moment's peace. Then, today, an invitation arrived for a private auction. And there it was, projected onto a massive screen for all to see: a photo of me, lost in ecstasy beneath Damian. A trophy. Damian’s arm was wrapped possessively around Zoe's waist. He looked at me, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "You love to light the lamp, don't you? Well, here are three hundred and sixty-five photos. If you don't want them falling into other hands, you'd better start bidding." … I stood frozen in the auction hall, surrounded by dozens of men, their leering eyes fixed on the screen as they traded vulgar comments. "Damn, she's pure filth! And here I thought I’d seen it all. First time a single photo has gotten me this worked up." "Tsk, tsk. Who would've thought? Aria Ashton looks so pure, but in bed, she's wilder than a professional. And to think she has the nerve to tell us to get lost if we even get close." "Damian, you lucky bastard. You've really broken in the precious daughter of the esteemed Ashton family, haven't you?" a man said, winking at Damian, who was seated in the place of honor at the front. My fists clenched, my body trembling as I forced myself to turn and face my husband. In the seat beside him, the one that should have been mine, sat Zoe. Damian didn't even try to hide it. His lips curled into a lazy, satisfied smile. "For the winner of each photo," he announced, his voice smooth as velvet, "a full video of that night will be included as a bonus." "A man of taste and generosity!" The room erupted. Damian's gaze locked onto mine, his handsome features alight with amusement. "Don't look at me like that. I told you, you can light the lamp. Three hundred and sixty-five times. Take your time." "Come on, Damian, you must know! The Ashton family went bankrupt. She's got next to nothing left!" someone shouted from the crowd. "To light the lamp costs fifty million a pop! She’d be lucky to have a hundred million to her name right now!" Damian raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Oh? Is that so?" "Tsk! What a shame. Three hundred and sixty-five photos, each one a masterpiece. Honestly, I'd be tempted to buy them all myself for… private study." A man stroked his chin, sighing dramatically. "Too bad the only one here with that kind of cash is Damian himself." Damian just laughed and held up a hand. "Gentlemen, please. Thorne Industries will not be bidding on any lots tonight. All proceeds will be donated to charity. Enjoy yourselves." A wave of cheers washed through the hall. "Now that's a true philanthropist! Good thing Thorne Industries quietly squeezed out all the Ashton's business partners, or we might not be getting our hands on these photos today!" "What's there to worry about? There are dozens of us. We can all get a piece!" "No way! That third one is a work of art. I'm taking that one, no matter the cost!" My voice was a strangled whisper, my hands shaking uncontrollably. I stared at Damian, the reality of his betrayal crashing down on me. "Ashton Industries… it was you? You're the one who destroyed my family?" He simply held my gaze, that chilling smirk never leaving his face. Tears streamed down my cheeks. "Why?" I croaked, my voice raw. "Just because I lit the lamp that one time, a year ago?" He ignored my anguish, picking up the microphone. "We're on a schedule, Ms. Ashton. If you're not going to participate, I'll let my friends begin." The men watched me, their eyes filled with a predatory hunger. Every single person in this room was a titan of industry. The hundred million I had left, my entire fortune, was probably what they spent on a weekend getaway. How could I possibly compete with them? "Excuse me. I need to use the restroom." I wiped my tears away, turning and walking out before I completely shattered. I was afraid I would start screaming and never stop. A chorus of jeering laughter followed me. "Look at that, even a whore can feel shame, hahaha!" "Damian, don't wait for her. What's a hundred million to us? She's just making an excuse to run away." "All of you, shut up," Damian's voice cut through the noise, cold and sharp. He stared intently at the doorway I had just disappeared through. The room fell silent. A few minutes later, I pushed the door open. Under the stunned gaze of every man in the room, I returned to my seat, my eyes still red and swollen. "Let's begin." Damian shot me a look, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. To better display the "exhibits," the main screen had been expanded into a panoramic, wrap-around display, ensuring my humiliation was visible from every angle, in a constantly rotating slideshow of my most vulnerable moments. "The first photo," the auctioneer announced with a sleazy grin. "Bidding starts at two million." The room buzzed with excitement. "Sublime! Absolutely sublime! She's an artist, that one. The 'proper' ones are always the freakiest." "Two and a half million!" The auctioneer just smiled, and with a flick of his wrist, a block of text appeared on the screen next to the photo. I shot to my feet. It was a lurid, play-by-play of our wedding night, written with an intimacy and detail that… There was only one other person who could have written that. My trembling gaze found Damian. He sat there, a mask of detached amusement on his face as if he were a mere spectator. Only when Zoe leaned in to whisper something in his ear did his expression soften, his eyes filling with a tenderness he never showed me. The whispers and snickers around me were a physical force, threatening to drown me. "I thought the photos were hot, but the story is even better! Don't you dare fight me on this one! Five million! I want that video!" "Six million!" "If she's this wild on the first night, I can't even imagine what came next… Tsk, tsk! Ten million!" "Light the lamp." My own voice was a ghost of a sound, shaking but clear. Every head in the room swiveled towards me. The auctioneer’s professional smile faltered for a second. "Number 38 lights the lamp. Are you sure?" I sank back into my chair, feeling drained. "I'm sure." "Tsk! A damn shame. That video must be incredible." "What are you worried about? How many more can she afford?" "Exactly. She only gets better with practice. The later ones will be worth the wait." "Number 38 lights the lamp! Congratulations to Ms. Ashton on her acquisition of the accompanying video!" I closed my eyes, my nails digging so deep into my palms I thought they would draw blood. The screen immediately flashed to the second photo, complete with another graphic description. "The second photo! Bidding starts at two million!" The room was on fire now. "Is this for real? This is better than any of my 'educational materials'!" A man sitting near me leaned in close. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. You're full of surprises. So prim and proper on the outside, but you're just a slut in private, aren't you?" I shot him a venomous glare, and he roared with laughter. "Oh, I like that fire! If Damian doesn't want you, I'll take you. I'll even help you with a bid, how about it?" "Don't touch me," I snarled, my voice cold enough to freeze hell. He just snorted and leaned back. "Playing hard to get? You're used goods, sweetheart. Ten million!" "Twenty million!" "Twenty-five million!" "Light… the lamp." I don't know where I found the strength to say it. The auctioneer gave me a long, meaningful look. "Number 38 lights the lamp!" As the sale was finalized, his professional smile returned, now laced with condescension. "That's two lamps lit, Ms. Ashton. According to our verification, that leaves you with a cash flow of less than five million dollars, correct?" My voice was flat, lifeless. "Continue." "Hah." A flicker of undisguised contempt crossed his face before he presented the third photo. "The third photo! Bidding starts at two million!" "Light the lamp." At the sound of my voice, the entire room stared at me in disbelief. The auctioneer’s face hardened. "Ms. Ashton, your initial verification showed a net worth of one hundred and four million. You've already spent one hundred million. You do not have sufficient funds." A man winked at me. "Beg me, darling. I'll light it for you." I ignored them all, my gaze fixed on Damian. He was watching me too. But there was no hint of pity in his eyes, only a smug, derisive curl of his lip. Everyone looked from me to him. After all, he was still my husband. "Why is everyone looking at me?" Damian asked, a lazy drawl in his voice. "I already said, the floor is yours tonight." The men breathed a collective sigh of relief. "Our thanks to Mr. Thorne for his generosity!" Just then, Zoe, who had been silent beside him, raised her hand. "I'll do it. I'll light the lamp for my sister." Damian looked at her, a brief flash of surprise giving way to an undisguised, warm smile. Zoe turned to me. "After all, Aria sponsored my studies abroad. I can't just stand by and not repay her kindness, can I?" The smile in Damian’s eyes deepened. Staring at Zoe, the icy wall he always kept up seemed to melt away completely. The room erupted in a chorus of sycophantic approval. "No wonder Damian adores Zoe! Who wouldn't love a girl that sweet and obedient?" "Zoe is such a good girl. She blushes if you even tell a dirty joke. Not like some people, tsk tsk!" Their pointed gazes were like daggers in my back. A triumphant smirk flickered across Zoe’s lips before she masked it with a look of concern. "Don't worry, Aria." "What a performance." She blinked, caught off guard. "What?" "This is how you repay me? By stealing my husband and my seat?" I leaned back in my chair, my voice dripping with ice. "I'm sorry, but I haven't fallen so low that I need help from a backstabbing whore and a monster." "Aria." It was the first time Damian had spoken to me directly, and his tone was so cold it was like he was speaking to a stranger. I shot him a withering look before turning to the auctioneer. "I'm the one lighting the lamp. I'll handle it myself." "Well…" The auctioneer hesitated. "If you insist, we would have to include your real estate assets. But since Ashton Industries went bankrupt, their value has plummeted. It might just barely cover the fifty million." "Then do it. Stop wasting my time." "Tsk, tsk. The woman's gone insane." The men shook their heads, their voices laced with pity and mockery. "Giving up the roof over her head just to save face. What a shame, that third photo was my favorite." "Don't worry about it. We haven't even gotten through a fraction of them. There are over three hundred left. What's the rush?" "Right? I got a sneak peek. The later ones are so depraved she barely looks human, hahaha!" Their stares, a mixture of pity and scorn, bore down on me. "A cornered animal, fighting to the last." "Next round, she'll have no choice but to watch us buy up her filth." "Tsk, tsk. I wonder what her face will look like then. Will it be the same expression she has in bed with Damian?" The snickering was relentless. I swallowed the lump in my throat, my hands clenched into tight fists, and looked up at the auctioneer. The fourth photo flashed onto the screen. "The fourth photo! Bidding starts at two million!" "Oh, now this one I really like! Fifteen million!" "Twenty million!" "Twenty-five million!" "Light the lamp," I said again. Every eye in the room was on me. The auctioneer’s smile was strained to the breaking point.
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