It shouldn’t surprise me anymore. Of course, he would do this to me. Why wouldn't he? He never saw me as his daughter—just an illegitimate stain on his perfect life. And to make matters worse, I’m a woman, which, in his eyes, makes me even more disposable. I used to think that when he finally got sick of me, he’d simply end my existence. A clean break. But no, that would have been too predictable. Too merciful.

Instead, this father of mine decided to sell me.

Not just in any way—an auction. A place where men with too much money and too little morality bid for flesh as if we were nothing more than rare artifacts. I thought things couldn't get worse. That I had already fallen to the lowest point possible.

I was wrong. How long will this go on?

I kept my face expressionless as the auction began, as name after name was called, as women were stripped of their worth and sold off to the highest bidder. Then, it was my turn. I felt the weight of countless eyes, hungry, possessive, leering. The bidding started. I tuned it out. The numbers didn’t matter. My fate was sealed the moment I was dragged into this place. I don’t know how long it lasted. Minutes? Hours? In the end, I was sold.

But not to a man.

A woman.

She outbid them all with an offer of twenty million.

I looked up as she approached, wrapping her jacket around my shoulders—an act of warmth I didn’t expect. Her expression was unreadable, cold yet not cruel. For the first time that night, uncertainty crept in.

What is your real intention?

Why me?