The day before our wedding anniversary, my husband, Derek Stone, sweet-talked me into transferring him fifty-two million dollars. I was about to agree when, mid-auction, the custom-designed necklace from the British Royal Collection I was bidding on suddenly had its ‘Lights Out’ clause triggered. Someone daring to challenge me in New York City was truly rare. Seething, I immediately upped my bid by another hundred million, vowing to make them crash and burn. Just then, the door to my private box burst open. Several fierce-looking men stormed in, pressing me against the table. “You really don’t know what’s good for you! No one in this city dares to challenge Mr. Stone!” I actually laughed. I marched straight to the open door of the box they mentioned, wanting to see who had such a big mouth. That’s when I saw my husband, Derek Stone, who was supposed to be in Miami celebrating his friend’s birthday. My husband, who had just been whispering sweet nothings to me, was now holding my intern assistant, Chloe Miller, teasing her. “My darling, this necklace is for your mother’s birthday. Happy now?” The black-suited man who had followed them over sneered, “Our Mr. Stone triggered the ‘Lights Out’ clause! No matter how high you bid, he’s going all the way!” I immediately turned back, grabbing the microphone on the spot. “Another hundred million!” … I stared at my phone, the call already disconnected. A SnapChat message popped up immediately after, a photo of my husband playing billiards with his friend, Mike Ross. “Can’t chat now, crucial last shot. Remember to send me the money, my dearest wife.” The next second, in the half-open private box opposite me, Derek lifted his hand, cupping Chloe Miller’s neck, and pressed her lips to his. From my vantage point, I could even see the thin strands of saliva stretching between their lips. All the sweetness and happiness we once shared became a sickening joke in that instant. The double betrayal—my husband and the assistant I had personally promoted—ignited a furious fire within me. Chloe Miller, despite being an intern, received all the benefits and perks of a full-time employee, specially approved by me. She also enjoyed lifetime access to a luxury apartment and a new Audi A6. As a young woman from a small, struggling town, I had saved her decades of struggle. I never imagined that this promising talent, who always seemed so respectful and devoted, had the audacity to cuckold me so brazenly! The auctioneer was stunned by my actions. The long-held tradition of this auction house stated that once a ‘Lights Out’ bid was made, if the opposing party failed to match it, it was a high-stakes deal that could have… serious ramifications. “Ma’am… Madam, are you certain you wish to raise the bid after the ‘Lights Out’ clause has been invoked?” I scoffed. “Absolutely. From this moment on, no matter how much they bid, I will match them to the very end!” Through the sound-proof divider of their box, Derek couldn’t recognize my voice. Hearing my words, he shot up, his face instantly darkening. The main floor erupted in murmurs, dozens of people craned their necks, trying to see who was foolish enough to openly challenge Mr. Stone. In New York’s exclusive circles, everyone knows everyone, and there’s an unspoken rule to always leave an opponent an out. Once someone triggered the ‘Lights Out’ clause, apart from extreme circumstances, no one would dare to bid further. It was an unwritten code of conduct. My actions were an undeniable public slap in his face. Chloe also stood up, lowering her head meekly. “Derek, it’s my fault. You’re being humiliated and provoked because of me.” “Never mind, I don’t want the necklace. My mom’s just a simple woman from a small town, she wouldn’t even be able to wear something so grand.” Her act completely triggered Derek’s protective instincts. He shoved the auction assistant aside and raised his paddle himself. “One hundred fifty-two million!” A chorus of cheers and sycophantic applause rose from below. “Wow, only Mr. Stone! Such a grand gesture for his mistress’s mother’s birthday. We could only dream of that!” “Exactly! The person opposite must be some hayseed who just escaped the psych ward, doesn’t know anyone, just trying to make a scene. She’s going to get her legs broken and be thrown out; it’ll serve her right.” “I’ve never seen anything like this in my life. Doesn’t everyone know Mr. Stone has his wealthy wife backing him? She’s the Sterling Corporation heiress, a power player who knows how to operate on both sides of the law. I’m just waiting to see this woman thrown into the ocean to feed the sharks.” I remained perfectly still, unbothered. I continued, “Two hundred million!” At that, Derek’s face turned completely black. His knuckles were white, and a vein throbbed in his forehead. It took Chloe quite a bit of coaxing and sweet-talking to barely quell his rage. He slammed his hand on the table, his voice cracking. “Two hundred fifty-two million!” The entire room fell silent, everyone holding their breath, not daring to make a sound. They all stared towards my box, waiting for my next bid. I chuckled softly. Losing his cool so quickly? This was only the beginning. Then, I casually uttered a few words: “Two hundred seventy-four million, eight hundred thousand.” “Whoa!” A collective gasp rippled through the floor. The room erupted. “Why not three hundred million? Is she losing steam so quickly? Not so tough after all!” “No, that doesn’t sound right. Her calculations are too clear; she doesn’t seem crazy. Maybe she heard us talking, realized Mr. Stone’s power, got scared but can’t back down now, so she’s reducing her bids little by little?” Laughter echoed, but then an unsettling voice pierced through the crowd. “Two hundred seventy-four million, eight hundred thousand? That’s not just a bid; that’s a carefully calculated slap in the face! It’s practically telling them to drop dead!” The room froze for three seconds. Then, an even wilder uproar of jeering broke out. “This is getting good! Telling Mr. Stone to drop dead? This person has a death wish!” Before anyone could make sense of it, the auctioneer pounded his gavel on the podium several times. “Silence! Please, quiet down! And the ‘Last Call’ box, please continue your bid!” After their excitement died down, everyone finally remembered the main event. This war for Mr. Stone’s dignity wasn’t over. “This is heading straight for three hundred million! Just for his mistress’s mother’s birthday? Is it worth such a massive出血?” “If this much money goes through, Anya Sterling can’t possibly not know, right? Are they playing such wild games? What’s the difference between this and telling the whole world Mrs. Sterling is being cuckolded?” “Who knows, maybe it’s just their thing as a couple, getting off on playing with others. Some people have weird fetishes.” A wave of lewd laughter followed, and the looks in the crowd’s eyes grew even more vulgar. I listened to their disgusting remarks, my expression utterly unfazed. Derek, across from me, was not so composed. His eyes were dark and icy, his lips pressed into a thin, grim line. He was on the verge of losing it. Chloe, beside him, watched him tremble, not daring to utter a single word. I knew very well that beyond this price, Derek could no longer make decisions on his own. So, his next choice would be crucial. The auctioneer’s gaze remained fixed on Derek’s box, waiting to see if he would bid again. If he chose not to, it would mean he had failed the ‘Lights Out’ clause, not only losing the item but also being forced into the Penal Chamber, and forever losing his standing in New York City. The air seemed to solidify. “Two hundred seventy-four million, eight hundred thousand… going once.” “Two hundred seventy-four… million…” At that moment, the curtains of Derek’s box were completely pulled back. His hands gripped the railing tightly, and he spoke, word by word: “Three hundred million!” The words had barely left his lips when, without giving him a second to breathe, I blurted out. “Three hundred fifty-two million.” This time, the entire room fell into a dead silence.
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