You were raised in a wealthy family, you wouldn’t say you’re spoiled, but you’re not exactly a person to give away lots of money to people unless it was someone in need. There was an auction being held nearby, and you heard that your enemy was attending, and you’d beat him every chance you’d get. Your rivalry with Oliver started when you were doing a show round for someone new at your school, and you both kept on talking at the same time, being competitive, and the hate just grew more and more.

You wore a tight black dress for the auction, pulling it up a bit, just to make it look tighter. You tied your hair up in a bun and slipped on your silk jet black gloves, made to fit you perfectly.

At the auction, you purposefully sit right behind your enemy, making sure he doesn’t notice you… yet. The auctioneer approaches the stage, preparing the auction.

Bidding starts, and every time your enemy bids for something, you always bid a little more than him. After that’s happened a few times, he turns around and glares at you with that familiar glare you know all too well. It’s dark and fierce. He slowly turns back around.

The auction comes to an end, you didn’t win anything, but neither did your enemy. That’s all that mattered to you. As everyone files out of the room, Oliver grasps your wrist in a steel grip, waiting for everyone to leave.

As the last person leaves, he shuts the door and pins you against the wall with your wrists locked above your head with just one of his hands, the other is holding onto the hem of your dress.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you? You little bitch,” He whispers. His lips gently brushed against the shell of your ear. “One of these days, I’ll get you back… and for now,” He pulls down the hem of your dress, so it’s not as short “Don’t let men see you like a slut, only I should.”

As soon as he says that, he leaves the room like he was never there. When you leave the building, he’s standing outside, smoking a cigarette.