Chapter 1
At the auction, my husband’s assistant accidentally shattered a Bvlgari luxury custom–made bracelet worth a million dollars. Without hesitation, he paid the compensation for her.
The assistant bragged on Ins: [Thank you boss for your generosity. I’ll work even harder!] She then provocatively forwarded this post to me.
After read it, I just smiled and messaged my husband: “Heard someone broke a Bvlgari bracelet? How much did it cost?”
“Not much, just small change,” he replied.
“A million dollars is small change? Then transfer $3,000,000 to me. Now.”
After a long pause, he finally responded. “Don’t joke around, babe.”
The next second, he received a photo from me.
It showed his most precious PATEK PHILIPPE watch, smashed to pieces.
Worth exactly $3,000,000.
Ethan Pierce’s call came through immediately.
“Victoria Reid! Do you realize there are only three of those watches in the entire world? Have you lost your mind!”
“Why are you yelling at me? I think my message was perfectly clear.”
I glanced at the clock on the wall.
“You’re already forty–seven/seconds late. I’m currently in your car garage. You know the consequences.”
Ethan hung up immediately. Within a minute, I received a notification of a three–million–dollar transfer.
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Looking at my newly increased bank balance, a cold smile played on my lips.
I clicked ‘Send‘ on my phone screen and he received another photo I’d prepared–the crushed front of his limited–edition Ferrari.
His call came through almost instantly.
“Victoria!!!”
Ethan’s voice sounded like it was being squeezed through his teeth. “Do you have any how much money I spent to-“.
idea
“I do,” I cut him off. “Three million eight hundred thousand. Air–shipped from Italy just last
month.”
“Does it hurt? If it hurts, remember this. I don’t want there to be a next time.”
Ethan was too furious to speak. He hung up without another word.
I shrugged. I knew he was angry.
But I didn’t care.
Business marriages don’t require emotions. If love exists, consider yourself lucky. If not, it
doesn’t matter.
Ethan and I met through an arranged date three years ago. We were both satisfied with
each other’s family background and appearance, though not madly in love. So we got
married less than six months later.
On our wedding night, we politely went to our separate rooms, even saying goodnight to
each other on the staircase.
For a whole year after our marriage, I didn’t share a bed with Ethan. When we finally did, it
was because we were both drunk.
The Pierce Family’s auction house was a century–old dynasty, sitting firmly at the top of the auction world, Their family rules were thicker than the Smithsonian’s catalog.
My family was a newcomer that had risen in recent years. My father had built his fortune
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Chapter 1
overseas before returning home and establishing legitimate businesses. We didn’t have the Pierce family’s rigid traditions; we still had something of a street edge to us.
That’s why I didn’t care whether Ethan truly loved me or not. Neither of us would sacrifice
our interests for love.
But this time, this new junior appraiser assistant had stepped on my face with her bragging, and I wouldn’t swallow my pride.
I absolutely wouldn’t allow anyone to openly take what was mine. Even looking at it wasn’t
acceptable.
But I knew Ethan wasn’t one to swallow his pride either.
Sure enough, that evening I received a message from my best friend Mia.
“Victoria, why did your husband bring someone new to tonight’s event?”
I opened my phone to see a photo.
I recognized the background immediately–it was the Rhine Mansion where the Pierce
Family’s auction house’s Merit Hall entertained VIP clients.
Next to Ethan sat a young woman wearing an excessively elaborate dress, looking like
someone who had made an extraordinary effort to dress up for her first time at such an
event.
I slammed my phone face–down on the coffee table with a loud “thud.” Mia’s messages kept
popping up:
[This girl’s got nerve]
[She’s actually flaunting the bracelet your husband paid for]
[Wait… wasn’t that bracelet broken?]
I opened Sophia Morgan’s instagram homepage and saw her recently posted photo.
She was holding Ethan’s arm, smiling like a cat that got the cream under the crystal
chandelier of the Baccarat.
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Caption: [Thanks to Mr. Pierce for bringing me to such a high–class event~]
The most eye–catching part was the Bvlgari luxury custom–made bracelet on her wrist–the
one that Ethan had supposedly paid a million dollars to replace after she “broke” it last
week.
I remembered six months ago, when Ethan’s previous assistant had merely leaned against him while delivering documents. She was fired the very next day.
What had Ethan said then? “Pierce Auctions doesn’t need employees who don’t understand
boundaries.”
And now, here he was, indulging a junior appraiser by posting photos together on social media, making sure the whole world knew she was wearing the “broken” million–dollar
bracelet.
I called Ethan directly.
It rang seven times before going to voicemail.
“Very well.”
A cold laugh escaped me as I pulled up our iMessage thread.
[Mr. Pierce takes a female appraiser to a VIP dinner. Don’t you think you owe your wife an explanation?]
I messaged Mia: [Has Pierce checked his phone?]
Mia replied instantly: [He checked his phone but didn’t reply. Did you confront him?]
I sent Ethan another message: [Answer me. I know you’ve seen my message.]
This message was also met with silence.
[I’m giving you one last chance. If I don’t see your response in ten seconds, you’ll face the consequences.]
Rain began tapping against the window. I walked to my study and took out a yellowed diary from the safe. I snapped a photo and sent it to Ethan.
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Sure enough, Ethan replied immediately.
[VICTORIA, WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO?!]
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