The Bride He Sold At Auction

Three years after I walked out of the prison gates, my uncle-in-name-only, Barrett Stanford, dragged me out of the shadows of the underground fight club.

He smashed his fist into my face, his eyes nearly popping from their sockets with rage.

Kelly, who gave you the nerve to stay away? And look at youyouve turned yourself into a monster!

I wiped a streak of blood from my lip and grinned, a smile void of any soul or shame.

"Mr. Stanford, thats ten grand a punch. If youre not satisfied, keep going. A few more hits and Ill have this years rent covered."

His fist trembled in mid-air, knuckles white, but his voice lost its edge, softening into something almost pathetic.

"Come home with me... just apologize to Harper."

"Shes kind," he added, desperate. "She stopped blaming you for the slander years ago."

His gaze swept over the jagged scars mapping my arms, his expression twisting into something complex. Pity? Disgust?

"Look at you. Covered in blood. How are you any different from a stray dog eating out of a dumpster?"

A tremor ran through me, but I turned my heel to leave.

He didn't know. He couldn't know. This blood, this violenceit was the only way I learned to survive inside the cage.

"Don't forget," he shouted at my back, "I am still your fianc!"

My footsteps faltered.

Forget? How could I?

Three years ago, on the night of our engagement party, Harper drugged me and shipped me off to a black-market gala. My virtue, my body, my lifeput on the auction block like cattle.

That night, stripped of dignity, I became the city's favorite scandal. The desperate, insatiable fallen woman.

And the man who signed the papers to sell me? That was my fianc.

A shrill roar of laughter erupted behind me.

Barrett was frantic, humiliated that his pristine reputation was being stained by my existence. He was the wealthiest titan in Seattle, yet his "fiance" was brawling in a meat market for pocket change, blood and sweat flying everywhere.

I ignored him and slipped backstage.

Minutes later, I was back in the Octagon. The harsh floodlights blinded me, focused on the opposing iron gate. From the shadows, a guttural, inhuman roar echoed.

"Tonight! Number 67 versus The Burmese Tigress! Place your bets!"

The curtain was ripped aside. My opponent wasn't a woman; she was a force of nature, towering and terrifying.

I sucked in a cold breath.

"Hey, sister."

I looked up to the VIP balcony. There was Harper, draped in designer silk, leaning over the railing with that sickeningly sweet smile.

"I heard youre short on cash. So, I arranged a little gift to help you earn more."

Her tone was innocent, but the cruelty underneath was razor-sharp.

"I bet a million dollars on you to win. Don't let me down."

A million.

My fists tightened inside my gloves. I thought of my parents' estate, seized and sold off. I took a step forward without hesitation.

Just then, Barrett burst into the VIP box. Harper practically melted into his arms.

"Barrett, I know Kelly has too much pride to ask for help. I just want her to win that million on her own terms." She looked up at him with wide, doe eyes. "I heard shes on a winning streak. The owners love her..."

Barrett looked down at me, his expression haughty and distant.

"Kelly, apologize to Harper right now, in front of everyone, and Ill give you the million myself."

His voice boomed over the arena. "Refuse, and youll have to fight for scraps from the beast."

Every eye in the house was on me, expecting me to break. To beg.

Instead, I bit down on my mouthguard and raised my fists.

Barretts face went dark, his eyes burning with a fury that could scorch the earth.

The bell rang. The Tigress lunged. I rolled forward, dodging a blow that would have taken my head off, and kicked hard at her throat.

But the weight difference was impossible.

Her fists were like sledgehammers. Twice, she nearly cracked my skull open.

Barrett stared down, his face growing paler with every blow I took.

I wouldn't tap out. I couldn't. By the third round, my arms were shredded, my vision blurring red.

Thwack.

A final, brutal uppercut. The Tigress hit the mat.

Barrett threw down his drink, vaulting over the railing and rushing the cage. He grabbed my bleeding arm, screaming, "Do you want to die?!"

Blood dripped onto the canvas, mixing with the sweat stinging my eyes. I gritted my teeth.

"I didn't lose. Tell her to pay me."

He grabbed my throat, his fingers cold, staring into my soul.

"You are hopeless. If you wanted money this badly, maybe I should have let you go for a higher price at the auction back then!"

My body seized. My eyes rolled back, and the darkness took me.

Before the silence, the old secret I had overheard that night whispered in my ear.

"Mr. Stanford, ruining her reputation tonight finally gives Miss Harper some justice."

"She brought it on herself. This is the price for slandering Harper."

That night at the auction was a recurring nightmare I couldn't wake up from.

Harper had staged it allleaked her own compromised photos, made herself trending news, and framed me for it. No matter how I begged, how I explained, Barrett refused to believe me.

On the night I was supposed to be happiest, he sent me to hell.

Through the haze of the drugs, I had seen Harper nestled in his arms, clinging to him like a vine. My heart hadn't just broken; it had shattered.

On stage, men looked at me with greedy, predatory eyes.

"The Kelly heiress! Starting bid is open!"

I had looked at Barrett, one last desperate plea. I didn't do it.

Through the cigar smoke, his eyes were cold, indifferent. "Mistakes have consequences, Kelly."

The humiliation that followed broke me. The tears, the pain, the absolute betrayal. He hated me that much.

When the chaos ended, it was deep into the night. The scandal was already all over the city.

I heard him talking to the manager. And that was when I snapped. I lit the match.

The fire roared, burning down the venue, burning down our past.

The police came quickly.

Barrett had kicked me away as they cuffed me. "Harper inhaled smoke! She's in the ER right now! How could you be so vicious? You tried to burn her alive!"

"Just you wait. I won't let this slide."

On the day of my sentencing, Barrett announced to the press that he was backing Harper to take over the family trust.

I lost everything.

Three years in prison. I slept near the latrine. I was forced to drink toilet water. I was stripped and humiliated by women who had nothing left to lose.

To survive, I learned to use my fists.

My only tether to sanity was the hope of buying back my parents' estate.

The day I got out, I scurried into the underground fighting ring like a rat in a sewer, numbing myself to the pain.

A million dollars. That money would get me closer to home.

I woke up with a start, the harsh white of a hospital ceiling blinding me.

"Did the money come through?"

The nursethe fight managerfroze. She hadn't expected that to be my first question.

Silence.

My chest felt like it had been caved in by a hammer. Tears, hot and unbidden, spilled over.

I was delusional. Why would Barrett let me win?

"Forget it," I rasped. "I'll fight more matches..."

"Kelly."

The manager cut me off, her eyes filled with pity. "Don't come back. Mr. Stanford put out the word. Any venue that lets you fight gets shut down and sued into bankruptcy."

She dropped a debit card on the bedside table and fled, unable to look at me.

The air left the room. I was suffocating.

I stumbled out of the hospital, into the pouring Seattle rain. The water mixed with the salt on my face, blurring the neon lights. I clutched the card, knowing my dream was drifting further away.

My feet carried me to the Estate on autopilot.

Through the iron gates, through the rain, I saw them. Barrett was holding Harpers hand in front of a wall of reporters.

"Starting today, this historic estate is officially gifted to Harper!"

"She is now the rightful mistress of the legacy!"

The world spun.

I pulled out my burner phone and dialed the number I hadn't dared to call for three years.

"Get me out of here."

Harper feigned shock, her hand over her mouth. "But... what about my sister?"

Barretts eyes flickered, but the cold mask returned instantly.

"From the moment she spread those lies about you, she ceased to be family."

"By what right?"

My voice trembled with rage. I stepped out of the shadows, soaked, bruised, looking like a revenant.

"Is that Kelly?"

"It really is her. I thought shed have the decency to stay hidden."

"Pfft, shes an ex-con now. What shame does she have left?"

"Tsk, tsk. Raising a whore who seduces her own brother-in-law... her father must be rolling in his grave."

I froze.

Barrett stepped forward, yanking me under his umbrella. "If you're hurt, stay in the hospital. Stop making a scene!"

I shoved him away.

"By what right do you give my home to her?" I screamed. "I am the daughter of this house! She is a foster child! What right"

Slap.

My cheek burned, swelling instantly. I held my face, staring at Barrett in disbelief.

He placed himself between me and Harper, a human shield.

"Your father entrusted both of you to me. In my heart, Harper has never been just a foster child!"

"You framed her. You tortured her. You aren't fit to carry the family name. You have no right to object!"

It was absurd. It was a comedy.

I flashed back to when I was ten. The day Harper arrived. I gave her my favorite doll. She ignored it. Then, the moment I turned around, she threw herself down the stairs.

"Kelly... why did you push me? Do you hate me?"

My parents believed me. But from that day on, her tears were weaponized.

Mother's missing jewelry. Father's broken antiques. Every time she cried, I was the villain, defenseless against her performance.

But Barrett... he used to stand by me.

"I know Kelly. She wouldn't do this."

"She has a temper, sure, but I spoiled her that way. And I like it."

I was naive. I thought he would stand by me forever.

"You are a disappointment," I whispered.

The cold man in front of me overlaid the image of the boy who once knelt in the grass, crying, promising to protect me.

I blinked, and the boy was gone.

"Kelly, I'll give you one last chance. Apologize to Harper. The family, and I, will be your shield again."

I looked at his hand, interlaced with hers. I laughed. It was a dry, broken sound.

"No need."

"Give me the million dollars. And from this moment on, we are strangers. Dead to each other."

The silence was deafening.

Barretts eyes turned predatory, dark and confused. "What did you say?"

He stared at the stubborn set of my jaw, and for a second, panic flashed in his eyes. He realized he had miscalculated.

"Kelly!"

Harper sensed the shift. She lunged forward, dropping to her knees in the mud before me.

"Blame me! It's all my fault! I shouldn't have come into this family!"

"I don't want the house! I'll leave Seattle tonight! I'll give it all back!"

She wailed, turning and running toward the stone steps. Then, she tripped. It was theatrical, perfect. She tumbled down.

"Harper!"

Barrett screamed, his composure shattering. He rushed down. When he saw the blood soaking her white skirt, his voice cracked.

"Doctor! Call an ambulance!"

He looked back at me, pure hatred in his eyes.

"Tie her up! If Harper loses this baby, Kelly pays with her life!"

"Mr. Stanford, the patient is in bad shape. The pregnancy... we couldn't save it. And I'm afraid she may never conceive again."

"What?"

Harper wept, biting her lip until it bled. "My baby..."

"Who is the father?" Barrett asked, his voice low, suppressing a volcano of rage.

Harper buried her face in his chest. "I'm sorry, Barrett. Last month... when you were drunk... you didn't use protection..."

His pupils contracted. Panic, then guilt, washed over him. He pulled her tighter.

"No. This isn't your fault."

Harper let out a guttural sob. "I can never be a mother? Barrett, what am I going to do?"

I stood there, handcuffed, staring at her flat stomach.

I remembered the excuse Barrett used to avoid touching me. "You're too young. I respect you too much. I'll wait until we're married."

But he got Harper pregnant. Even if the baby was gone now.

It wasn't that he wouldn't. He just wouldn't with me.

I laughed. A bitter, jagged sound.

"Kelly, you are a curse!" Barrett roared, hearing my laughter. He lunged, punching me hard in the stomach.

I coughed up bloody foam, mumbling through swollen lips.

"She deserved to lose it. It's karma for what she did to me."

"And if she planned this miscarriage, you better check if that kid was even yours."

He slapped me again, sending me crashing into the corner. Blood from my forehead blinded my left eye.

He grabbed me by the hair, dragging me to the open window. He pushed my upper body out over the ledge. Three stories up.

One let go, and I was pavement.

"You really are insane," he hissed.

"For three years, I wanted to bring you home every single day. I was terrified you were suffering in prison. I pulled strings to keep you safe."

"But you? Youre heartless! Three years, and the moment you get out, you vanish!"

"Do you know how long I looked for you? Do you know how it felt seeing you getting beaten to a pulp in that cage?"

"Kelly, you don't know anything."

"You only know how to hurt Harper. You are a complete lunatic!"

His eyes were red, brimming with tears that fell onto my shoulder.

I hung over the edge, feeling the wind. My heart was colder than the air.

"You're right. We are done."

He hauled me back in and threw me onto the floor like a bag of trash. His voice went icy.

"But you made a mistake. And you have to be punished."

I slowly lifted my head.

"Confess. Publicly admit to your crimes over the years. Voluntarily renounce your claim to the estate. Do that, and I'll give you the house back."

My ears rang. I tasted iron.

"You..."

He looked down at me, a god judging an insect. "Think carefully. This is your last chance."

My fingers brushed the photo in my pocket. My father's last gift.

On the back of the yellowing family portrait, in his shaky handwriting: "Kelly, when Papa gets better, we'll go to Switzerland. We'll see the snow."

I remembered his thin, frail arms. Tears hit the floorboards. I bit my own arm to stop the screaming, shaking uncontrollably.

"Fine. I accept."

The next day, noon.

I knelt in front of the Estate gates. Flashbulbs popped like lightning. I read the "Confession" word for word.

"...I caused Harper's miscarriage. I am wicked."

"...I bullied Harper for years. It was all my fault."

The crowd was furious. Someone threw a soda can. It hit my head.

"Die, you poison witch!"

"Why don't you kill yourself to atone?"

"Harper is an angel, and this one is a snake!"

I curled into a ball on the concrete. Through the legs of the crowd, I saw Barrett lead Harper out of a limousine.

"In three days," he announced to the cameras, "I will hold the wedding of the century with Harper."

As security dragged me toward a garbage truck to haul me away, my burner phone buzzed.

"Kelly. I'm back. Let's burn them down."

Three days later. The wedding was lavish, grotesque in its opulence. But the guests kept whispering.

"Mr. Stanford, Kelly is still family by blood. Did you have to push her that far?"

Barretts face was thunderous.

"I didn't drive her away! She refused to turn back!"

"To her, we mean nothing compared to that house. Don't mention her name again!"

The room went silent.

The next morning, Barrett called his assistant.

"Find Kelly. Get her to sign the transfer papers for the house. Im not waiting."

He paused, then changed from his robe into a suit.

I used to love seeing him in a suit.

He sprayed cologne. Harper watched him, her face twisting.

Last night, their wedding night, Barrett hadn't touched her.

He was preparing to see me. He wanted to look good.

He was waiting for me to show up, broken and defeated.

His assistants phone rang. The color drained from the man's face.

"Mr. Stanford... bad news. Kelly is missing."

"And... the Estate. It was just sold at auction to a private buyer for triple the value."