Chapter 3

"You've already bid twice. According to your asset verification, you have less than five million dollars in liquid funds remaining," the host reminded politely. I weakly said, "Let's continue." The host couldn't quite hide the disdain on his face as he revealed the third photo. "Item No. 3. Starting bid: two million dollars." "I'll take it," I said. Everyone turned to look at me in surprise. The host glanced my way. "Ms. Whitmore, your pre-auction verification showed you have assets totalling 143 million dollars. You've already bid twice—there's not enough left." A man winked at me playfully. "You can beg me. I'll take care of this one for you." I ignored them and turned my gaze to Damian. He was already looking at me. However, he had no intention of helping me. In fact, a trace of disdain crossed his face. All eyes shifted to him. After all, he was still legally my husband. "Why is everyone looking at me?" Damian asked with a smile. "I've already said—let everyone bid as they please." The men let out a collective sigh of relief. "Thank you, Mr. Tucker!" Just then, Susan, who had been sitting quietly at his side, raised her hand. "I'll bid on this one for Eleanor." Damian turned to her. Surprise flickered across his face for a second, quickly replaced by an amused smile he didn't bother to hide. Susan looked at me and said, "Eleanor once paid for my study abroad. I can't pretend I've forgotten how much I owe her." Damian smiled. Staring at Susan, the coldness in his expression seemed to melt for the first time. The crowd burst into laughter and teasing. "It's no wonder Mr. Tucker likes Susan. Who wouldn't fall for someone so obedient?" "Susan's such a good girl. She blushes just from hearing a dirty joke, unlike that slut over there." Their loaded stares pierced through me like knives. A flash of smugness crossed Susan's face. She looked at me and said, "Don't worry, Eleanor." "You're such a pretentious bitch," I blurted out. She paused, caught off guard. "What?" "Is this how you repay me? By stealing my place and seducing my man?" I asked, leaning back in my chair. "Sorry, but I'm not so low that I need help from a slut and a piece of trash." "Eleanor." Damian finally spoke to me, but his voice was so cold that it felt like I was nothing more than a stranger. I gave him a frosty glance, then turned to the host. "It's my bid. I'll take it." The host looked troubled. "If you want to keep bidding, we'll have to include the Whitmore Group's real estate. But after the company's bankruptcy, the value dropped significantly. Even then, it would barely reach 50 million dollars." "Just do it. Keep your comments to yourself," I firmly said. "This woman's completely insane." The men shook their heads and looked at me with disdain. "She's willing to sacrifice even her last place of shelter, all for the sake of pride. What a pity. I had my eye on that third photo from the start." "It doesn't matter. Barely a fraction of them have been sold. There are still over three hundred left. What could she possibly do?" "Exactly. I took a quiet look earlier. The further they go, the more degrading they become. How pathetic." Mocking and pitying stares rained down on me from all sides. "She's like a trapped animal making its final, useless struggle." "Once the next photo comes up, she'll be forced to watch as we claim it for ourselves." "I'm genuinely curious to see her face when that happens. Will it be the same expression she wore in Mr. Tucker's bed?" Their low, cruel laughter echoed endlessly through the room.