Ashlyn collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down her face, and began kowtowing violently, each strike of her forehead against the floor echoing through the room. "Mr. Crisp," she begged, her voice choked with desperation, "I beg you, no matter what Serena says, you have to agree. My family’s gone bankrupt, and my parents are stuck at a construction site. If you don’t agree, Serena will have people pour cement on them and bury them alive... and she’ll sell me at the auction to those... those monsters."
Her words shattered me. "I can’t live without my parents," she sobbed, "I don’t want to be bought by those perverts. Please, Mr. Crisp, please help me."
The relentless sound of her forehead hitting the floor twisted something inside me. With shaking hands, I reached for the pen and, with a grim sense of inevitability, signed my name on the contract with the word "voluntary."
Serena’s smug satisfaction was palpable as she patted my head. "When you get on stage, make sure you work hard," she said, her voice sweet as poison. "Who knows? Maybe some blind rich woman will take a liking to you and support you."
I could barely hold back the tremor in my voice. "Serena, you will be punished for this."
She laughed, dark and cruel. "Punished? Only those who betray their own sincerity deserve punishment. Let’s wait and see who truly gets punished."
A man wearing a mask approached me, and before I could react, he injected something into my side.
The world around me went black.
When I regained consciousness, I was locked inside a glass display case, exposed and naked in the center of Serena’s VIP auction room. Her and Isaiah’s silhouettes were entangled on the sofa across from me, their shadows cast dark and oppressive.
As if sensing I had woken up, Isaiah casually threw a pair of soiled underwear in my face.
I removed it from my skin with numb, trembling hands.
"Serena," a voice called out from outside the room, filled with mockery. "I heard you’re auctioning off your husband. They say it’s going to be exciting."
"Lucky old women are already eyeing him," another voice chimed in. "They’re ready to light sky lanterns to snatch him away from you."
Serena sighed, stretching lazily in her chair, her voice dripping with arrogance. "Tell them not to worry. I’ll let him out every now and then for the others to have their fun."
Her words cut through the air, sharp and unrelenting. "He’s not just obedient like a dog—he’s more useful than a toy. They’ll be ecstatic when they get a taste of him."
Her heel slammed into the glass of the case, making me jump. "I’ll give you one last chance," she said, her tone icy. "Call your mistress and tell her you’re my dog for life. If you do, I might consider buying you for myself when I light the sky lantern for Isaiah."
I closed my eyes, my lips sealed, too broken to speak.
Serena growled in frustration, straddling Isaiah with a possessive twist. "I wonder how long you’ll stay stubborn," she sneered.
The auction started, and every item Isaiah showed interest in was quickly snatched up by Serena. He sat surrounded by piles of luxury items, unable to hide his glee, while her mood darkened with every passing bid.
Her gaze flicked to me, sharp and hungry.
The last item was announced: "The item provided by Orlando Jiang is called 'Love.'"
"I’ll bid five million," came the first bid.
"Ten million!"
"Fifty million!"
The price soared, and with each increase, Serena’s expression turned more sour. Her eyes never left me.
"Anthony," she hissed, "I’m giving you one last chance..."
"VIP No. 31 lights the sky lantern," the auctioneer called, interrupting her.
Serena’s face drained of color. She whipped her head toward the VIP room.
