Just as he started to dial, the massive auction hall doors swung open. The giant panoramic screen flickered to life, and the moment he saw it, the color drained from his face.
It was a sex video. The man’s face was blurred out, but the woman’s wasn’t.
The audio filled the room, breathy and familiar.
I walked calmly to the front row and sat down.
“I don’t know who was kind enough to send me this,” I said lightly.
Ignoring Grayson’s thunderous expression, I added with a mocking smile, “Grayson, did you know your ex-wife’s quite the performer? Seems like she doesn’t mind any man at all.”
The crowd erupted in whispers.
Someone laughed, “That body though, it kind of looks like Mr. Locke, doesn’t it?”
Another jumped in quickly, eager to please, “No way! Mr. Locke only loves Miss Wells. Everyone knows his ex-wife caused Miss Wells’ miscarriage. He hates that woman. He wanted her dead. There’s no chance he’d ever touch her again.”
With that, the tension broke, and people started laughing more boldly.
Someone at the back even whistled and said crudely, “Say what you want, but damn, that woman’s got one hell of a body. My blood pressure’s through the roof just watching her.”
Amara's POV
“That’d be worth any price if I could take her to bed for a night.”
The lewd shout sliced through the air, and Grayson’s face went from dark to darker by the second.
He clenched his fist but kept his voice low. “Honey, Alyssa was my woman once. You can’t just do this. Take the video down. If you’re angry, I’ll handle her myself.”
Handle her like what, kill her in bed? I laughed coldly. “Fine.”
Quickly, the video vanished cleanly from the screen.
Finally, Grayson let out a breath, but then his pupils suddenly widened as a huge gilded cage dropped from above the stage.
Alyssa was bound, her hands and feet tied, tape over her mouth. She shrank into a corner and trembled. Scars raked across half her body like a jagged landscape. Through her thin clothes, they showed plainly, stirring the crowd’s worst instincts.
The room exploded with noise. Men shouted bids like animals.
“One million! I want her!”
“Five million. She’s mine today!”
“Not a chance! I’ll bid the highest!”
I smiled, mild and sharp. “Grayson, auction the money for Alyssa and buy me a new wedding dress.”