Auctioning Ava: A Billion-Dollar Betrayal

Auctioning Ava: A Billion-Dollar Betrayal

Gavin

5.0
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My husband, Ethan, the charming CEO of Hayes Innovations, and I were the picture-perfect couple at our anniversary gala. I wanted a sapphire necklace for our milestone, a glimmer of hope for my struggling family art gallery. But then Chloe Vance, Ethan's young intern who always seemed to be by his side, started bidding against me, encouraged by his subtle chuckles. The room watched as I spent five million dollars to win, a public humiliation masked as a playful game. Months later, my family's legacy was systematically crumbling, financial ruin orchestrated with surgical precision. Ethan just offered platitudes, his eyes holding that same unreadable amusement. Then came the clandestine auction notice, a venue filled with predatory energy. There, on a stage, stood Ethan and Chloe, beaming. A massive screen flickered to life, displaying my most intimate moments – 365 private photos and videos Ethan had taken throughout our marriage. "My beautiful Ava," he used to say. Now, my entire life was a public spectacle, being auctioned off for their amusement. I used every last dime of my emergency fund, then liquidated all my personal assets, even old family jewelry. But it wasn't enough. With the crowd's cruel laughter echoing, the auctioneer declared my funds officially depleted. Chloe, my husband's protégé, then offered to pay the next bid, her sweet concern dripping with poison. The abyss opened beneath me. How could he, the man who vowed to cherish me, orchestrate such a public, cruel destruction? Why was this intern, always by his side, so eager to participate in this calculated torment? Was this his twisted revenge for a simple public slight, or something far deeper, a monster hidden beneath a charming facade? I walked away from the jeering crowd, not to hide, but to make a single, desperate call: "Code Nightingale. I need The Circle. Now."

Introduction

My husband, Ethan, the charming CEO of Hayes Innovations, and I were the picture-perfect couple at our anniversary gala.

I wanted a sapphire necklace for our milestone, a glimmer of hope for my struggling family art gallery.

But then Chloe Vance, Ethan's young intern who always seemed to be by his side, started bidding against me, encouraged by his subtle chuckles.

The room watched as I spent five million dollars to win, a public humiliation masked as a playful game.

Months later, my family's legacy was systematically crumbling, financial ruin orchestrated with surgical precision.

Ethan just offered platitudes, his eyes holding that same unreadable amusement.

Then came the clandestine auction notice, a venue filled with predatory energy.

There, on a stage, stood Ethan and Chloe, beaming.

A massive screen flickered to life, displaying my most intimate moments – 365 private photos and videos Ethan had taken throughout our marriage.

"My beautiful Ava," he used to say.

Now, my entire life was a public spectacle, being auctioned off for their amusement.

I used every last dime of my emergency fund, then liquidated all my personal assets, even old family jewelry.

But it wasn't enough.

With the crowd's cruel laughter echoing, the auctioneer declared my funds officially depleted.

Chloe, my husband's protégé, then offered to pay the next bid, her sweet concern dripping with poison.

The abyss opened beneath me.

How could he, the man who vowed to cherish me, orchestrate such a public, cruel destruction?

Why was this intern, always by his side, so eager to participate in this calculated torment?

Was this his twisted revenge for a simple public slight, or something far deeper, a monster hidden beneath a charming facade?

I walked away from the jeering crowd, not to hide, but to make a single, desperate call: "Code Nightingale. I need The Circle. Now."

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