The Wife Auctioned For One Dollar Chapter 03
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
A message from Lily.
**[Evelyn, are you asleep?]**
**[Vito said he’s putting on a fireworks show for me tonight. I’m so touched. But I’m a little worried you’ll be lonely at home by yourself.]**
**[If your tummy starts hurting, make sure you tell Vito, okay?]**
Every word dripped with a victor’s gloating dressed up as cheap pity.
She knew exactly where Vito was.
She knew exactly what I was about to face.
But she played dumb.
She was hiding in her safe little corner, watching me fall off a cliff one inch at a time—and enjoying the view.
“No more bids?”
Irritation bled through Vito’s distorted voice.
“Fine. New starting price.”
“One dollar.”
“One dollar. Whoever takes her is responsible for the full seven days of discipline.”
“I only care about results.”
One dollar.
My husband had just valued me—his wife, carrying his child—at less than a bottle of water from a convenience store.
The crowd stirred.
If three million dollars carried too much risk, then one dollar was a temptation that would draw every maggot out of the gutter.
“One dollar!”
The bald man raised his paddle again, practically vibrating with excitement.
“I’ll call you ten times a day if you want.”
I drew a deep breath.
My vision was starting to blur.
Every conventional escape route had been sealed off.
This underground auction required strict security checks and identity verification at every entrance and exit. There was no way to slip out from under the noses of this roomful of wolves.
Was I really going to stand here and watch myself get handed over to these monsters?
A ten-second countdown began flashing on the giant screen.
10.
9.
8.
The bald man was already on his feet, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
Vito leaned back in his chair, looking as though he could already picture me on my knees, begging and broken.
The countdown hit 3.
At the very top of the auction hall.
The black-and-gold VIP box—permanently shuttered, accessible only with the highest clearance—suddenly blazed to life with a piercing red light.
The room went deathly silent.
Then a voice—low, cutting, unprocessed by any distorter—rolled through the hall via the box’s private channel.
“Ten million dollars.”
“I’m buying her freedom. Permanently.”