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The Auction That Rewrote My Future

The Auction That Rewrote My Future

Gavin

5.0
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My future was meticulously planned: Columbia University, an SAT score above 1550 – the Winston way. Then, a notification: an anonymous link led to an auction site displaying hundreds of twisted deepfakes of my private life. The seller: "CB_Blackwood." – Caleb. Caleb Blackwood, the boy my father had saved, was auctioning my dignity. I frantically bid my trust fund, but Ashley Jenkins, Caleb's vapid girlfriend, always outbid me. Caleb then demanded my 1550 SAT score as the ultimate stakes. In desperation, I bid it all. I 'won' the auction, but the next morning: my bank accounts empty, my SAT score zero. Ashley received my 1550 and Columbia scholarship, while my deepfakes were everywhere. The shame was a physical weight. As I fell from my balcony, a chilling truth hit: Caleb used a "Contract Auction System"-legally binding. His goal was not just money; it was my future, total destruction. Then, a gasp. I sat upright in bed. April 15th. Weeks before. I was back. The horror was fresh, but a cold, hard new emotion burned: revenge.

Introduction

My future was meticulously planned: Columbia University, an SAT score above 1550 – the Winston way.

Then, a notification: an anonymous link led to an auction site displaying hundreds of twisted deepfakes of my private life.

The seller: "CB_Blackwood." – Caleb.

Caleb Blackwood, the boy my father had saved, was auctioning my dignity.

I frantically bid my trust fund, but Ashley Jenkins, Caleb's vapid girlfriend, always outbid me.

Caleb then demanded my 1550 SAT score as the ultimate stakes.

In desperation, I bid it all.

I 'won' the auction, but the next morning: my bank accounts empty, my SAT score zero.

Ashley received my 1550 and Columbia scholarship, while my deepfakes were everywhere.

The shame was a physical weight.

As I fell from my balcony, a chilling truth hit: Caleb used a "Contract Auction System"-legally binding.

His goal was not just money; it was my future, total destruction.

Then, a gasp. I sat upright in bed.

April 15th. Weeks before.

I was back.

The horror was fresh, but a cold, hard new emotion burned: revenge.

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Not Just a Horse: The CEO's Unstoppable Revenge

Not Just a Horse: The CEO's Unstoppable Revenge

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5.0

The quarterly board meeting was standard, a high-stakes, productive morning for me, Scarlett King, CEO of King Global. My phone vibrated discreetly on the mahogany, a text from my oldest friend, Maria, flashing urgently across the screen. "Scarlett. Urgent. Check this link. I'm so sorry." The link opened an Instagram reel, and my blood ran ice cold. It was Desert Mirage, my champion Arabian stallion-a treasured legacy from my grandfather-terrified, his magnificent coat matted with cheap glitter. A woman, Tiffany Starr, brutally yanked his reins. Then, sickeningly, my husband Ethan's laugh echoed, encouraging her. The caption seared: "Ethan says I can handle anything! Even this rich bitch's pony." My hands clenched. When I called, Ethan sounded annoyed. "Scarlett? Tiffany was just having fun. He's just a horse." He hung up, dismissing me as "uptight" to someone nearby, the line going dead. "Just a horse." My horse. My legacy. He dismissed it. He dismissed me. He sided with her. This wasn't mere abuse; it was a public desecration of my soul's depth, my family's legacy. The humiliation was a raw, physical ache, hardening into cold, pure fury. This was more than betrayal; it was a declaration of war. I didn't scream, I didn't cry. My mind honed to laser focus. I buzzed Marcus, my head of security. "Tiffany Starr is at the Chateau Marmont. Remove her. Publicly. Serve a restraining order. Revoke all King Global studio access." They wanted a war. They would get one they'd regret.

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