At the engagement party, my fiancé, Nathan Ford, drugged me and then publicly auctioned off my first night for a dollar. By the next day, pictures of me in bed were circulating everywhere online, and I was completely blacklisted from the dance community.

Crushed, I sought solace from him, only to overhear his conversation with friends through the door:

“Nate, I must admit, your fiancée has an amazing figure. When's the next auction? I'll be there to support you!”

“Next time, it shouldn't start at just a dollar. Let's kick off at fifty cents! Unless, of course, you're aiming for the whole package!”

“Keep dreaming! No matter what, Amalia is Nate’s girl. Unless Nate gets tired of her, you won't even get close!”

“Heh, just joking! But once Nate ditches her, maybe I'll try for the real deal myself!”

“But now Amalia’s private photos are splashed all over the internet, and there's even footage on the dark web. Aren't you worried she'll find out and call off the engagement?”

Nathan scoffed: “Does she dare? Her reputation is already trashed; who else would have her besides me?”

“She needs a reality check. Charlotte was just being polite, but Amalia had the nerve to publicly criticize Charlotte's dancing. Consider this a small reprisal. If she pushes again, I'll make her livestream a two-on-one performance!”

As the cheers filled the room, my heart sank deeper.

I grabbed my phone and navigated to the dark web they mentioned. Sure enough, I found videos of myself in compromising positions, taken while I was unconscious.

Tears blurred my sight as I bit my lip, suppressing any sound.

The conversation continued: “Nate, what gave you the idea to auction your fiancée's first night for a dollar at the engagement party? Isn’t that a bit stingy?”

“I heard a nightclub newbie's first night can fetch five figures at least!”

Nathan smirked, pride showing through: “Charlotte thought it up! It lets her vent her anger and humiliate Amalia, keeping her devoted to me while knowing her place. Don’t think marrying me makes her better than Charlotte. In my eyes, she doesn’t even stand up to a strand of Charlotte’s hair.”

“I see her as Mrs. Ford; if I don’t, she’s less than the nightclub girls!”

He connected his phone to a projector. “Here's my private collection; only you guys have the privilege!”

As soon as he spoke, a large screen displayed intimate footage of us, accompanied by moans over the speakers.

“Wow, who knew Amalia, who always seems so reserved, could be so daring!”

“Nate, was she really a virgin? You sure you didn’t get fooled?”

I bit down hard enough to taste blood.

But the pain in my lips was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.

Despite my insistence on saving my first night for marriage, Nathan and I hadn't gone all the way. But we had done everything else, indulging in passionate moments.

His seeming understanding had moved me, encouraging me to wear alluring outfits to please him. I never imagined he’d secretly record everything, sharing it with friends.

The laughter in the room grew harsher, sending a shiver down my spine.

I knew Nathan idolized his foster sister, Charlotte Reynolds. So when he asked me to teach her dance, I earnestly pointed out the flaws in her technique.

I never expected my goodwill to be taken as spite by them, leading Nathan to destroy me for Charlotte’s sake.

Suddenly, I recalled a scene from a private gathering we attended together.

One of Nathan’s friends drunkenly blurted out: “If it weren’t for Nate’s parents wanting to keep the family reputation, you wouldn’t be here instead of Charlotte!”

That night, I confronted Nathan about it.

But he adamantly denied it, claiming he only saw Charlotte as a sister and that Charlotte had someone she liked.

The next day, Charlotte even took me to meet her supposed "crush."

I let go of my doubts.

Now, looking back, was that really the truth?

If she were just a sister, would Nathan truly go to such lengths for her?

Someone inside asked: “Nate, are you really going to marry Amalia? What about Charlotte? Isn’t she your true love?”

Nathan’s voice carried regret and affection: “If being with her means endless controversy, I’d rather protect her quietly. As long as she's happy, that’s enough for me.”

Hearing this, my heart felt pierced by countless swords; the pain was suffocating.

I left Nathan’s house and walked alone through the streets.

I felt every gaze was judging and ridiculing me.

Though fully clothed, it felt like I’d been stripped bare and exposed for all to see.

The sensation gnawed at my fragile nerves.

I ducked into a store, buying a hat and mask, covering myself completely.

My phone rang.

Seeing who it was, I answered—my parents, calling from overseas.

“Sweetie, we were too busy to attend your engagement party. You’re not angry with us, are you?”

Hearing my mom’s gentle voice, emotions I’d been holding back finally burst.

I broke down, crying: “Mom, I want to come home.”

==============================

I had refused to move to Europe with my parents to stay with Nathan.

Later, when he said he didn’t like long-distance relationships, I turned down an offer from a dream dance company.

Back then, I thought love meant one party making bigger sacrifices.

I loved Nathan; I didn’t want him to give up more for me, so I chose to be the one who sacrificed.

I believed if we could just be together, everything I did was worth it.

But I was wrong; Nathan didn’t love me—he loved Charlotte.

I was merely his fallback.

So for his true love, he didn’t hesitate to ruin me, turning me into a scandal.

All the sacrifices I made only moved me.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong? Did Nathan mistreat you?”

“Sweetie, don’t cry. Hearing you cry hurts us too.”

Listening to my parents’ gentle comfort helped calm me.

Wiping my tears, I told them firmly over the phone: “Mom, Dad, I've decided to move to Europe and live with you. I'm not coming back.”

They didn’t question me, simply assuring: “Alright, whatever decision you make, Mom and Dad are always waiting for you at home.”

After hanging up, I returned to my apartment.

Upon entering, I found Nathan sitting on the couch.

He approached and hugged me when he saw my swollen eyes.

“Amalia, I've seen the pictures online. It's not your fault; don’t blame yourself.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll find out who's behind this.”

For the first time, I realized the man I loved so much was this deceitful.

Even though he was the one who hurt me, he promised to help.

My voice was hoarse from crying, so I just replied with a simple “okay.”

He didn’t notice my unusual tone and continued: “Charlotte knows you’re feeling down. She’s throwing a party tonight to lift your spirits.”

He pulled a new dress from a shopping bag and handed it to me.

“This is a gift from Charlotte. Please, put it on.”

I glanced at the dress—it was a very revealing, tight black mesh gown.

Apart from the crucial areas, the rest was covered by sheer black mesh.

I remembered hearing Charlotte on the phone before I left Nathan’s house:

“People say Amalia is an untouchable pure lily. Those photos aren’t enough; tonight’s party will break her image, making it easier for my brother to manage her.”

“Brother, ensure she wears the dress I left in your car. I borrowed it from the most popular girl at the club.”

Nathan agreed dotingly, without hesitation.

I tossed the dress back at him.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“I’m your fiancée, not a club girl!”

“I don’t want to go to the party; you go.”

Nathan’s expression turned sour, his tone cooling:

“Amalia! Charlotte means well; don’t be difficult! Change into the dress!”

Anger surged in me, and I shredded the dress.

My actions thoroughly enraged Nathan.

Ignoring my resistance, he dragged me outside.

Upon entering the bustling bar, all eyes were suddenly on me.

Hostile, scrutinizing, lustful.

“Isn’t she that dancer? Looks icy cold, but who knew she’s so wild in bed!”

“You don’t get it, do you? It’s called allure; the wealthy patrons love it!”

“I wonder how many patrons she’s entertained. Women are lucky; all it takes is giving in, and the money rolls in.”

These blatant, malicious discussions stiffened my spine.

I shook off Nathan's grip and turned to leave.

But Charlotte blocked my way:

“Sis-in-law, you’re here, don’t leave so soon! I’ve planned some fun activities for you!”

Zelda's mysterious words gave me goosebumps. I was itching to leave. But Nathan and Zelda were on either side of me, guiding me into the private lounge. The looks inside were far worse—brazen and revolting.

"Nate, why didn't your sister change her clothes before she came?" one of Nathan's friends asked, the same guy who was the loudest at Nathan's house earlier that day. His gaze was disgusting as it lingered over me.

"No worries if she didn't change. She'll be out of them soon enough. Isn't sis known for her dance moves? Perfect opportunity for a little show!"

Just as I was about to protest, Zelda handed me a cocktail. "Sis, ignore them. They're just messing around. Drink this, and you'll forget all this nonsense."

She shoved the glass into my hand. I instinctively glanced at Nathan. He was in the corner, casually swirling his drink. When our eyes met, he smiled gently, reminiscent of when he confessed his feelings to me. But beneath that warm smile was something darker.

"Sis, why are you staring at my brother? Afraid he's going to spike your drink?" Zelda chuckled, sending another chill down my spine. "Don't worry about those scandalous photos online. Even if you did upset my brother, he'd forgive you. Drinking is the best way to brush off your worries!"

The others chimed in, urging me to join in. "Sis, declining to drink is a slap in the face to our dear Zelda." "Don't act coy. Those scandalous photos are all over—some friends even use them as screensavers!"

Even Nathan urged, "Amalia, Zelda's offering you a drink. Show some respect as a sister-in-law. Drink up!"

"Don't worry. I'll be here keeping an eye on you," he reassured, though it was anything but comforting.

All eyes were fixed on me, and I knew I had little choice but to drink. Hiding the bitterness, I raised the glass. "I'm not feeling great today. I'll drink this and then leave. Enjoy yourselves."

I swallowed it in one go, the strong alcohol burning down my throat, making me feel sick. But I didn't let any discomfort show. Fear of vulnerability kept my demeanor steady.

But I had underestimated their vile intentions. As soon as I put the glass down, my body went limp, beyond my control. A fiery sensation surged through me, igniting chaos among everyone in the lounge.

They poured bottle after bottle of wine over me. As my clothes clung to my skin, they whistled louder. Realizing I had been drugged, I couldn't believe Nathan was part of it. I looked at him, shielding Zelda, in disbelief.

"Nathan... did you really set me up?" Nathan didn't respond, only casting a dismissive glance my way.

I clenched my fists, refusing to cry out in shame. Crawling to Nathan's feet, I grabbed his pant leg, pleading: "Nathan! Please... take me away... Please!"

Don't let me suffer this humiliation.

Zelda spoke instead: "Sis, we're friends. Just a harmless joke, don't take it seriously."

"Calm down. I went through a lot of trouble to get this drug for you—it'll be quite the adventure and wipe your memory clean. Consider it my gift for your wedding with my brother. No need to thank me!"

Nathan brushed off my hands coldly, his voice detached yet utterly crushing: "Photos are fine, poses are fine, but don't go overboard, especially keep your underwear on."

The guy who poured wine on me tugged my hair, laughing loudly, "Relax, Nate, we know the limits. After all, she's still our sis-in-law."

"Let's see some moves, you little tease!"