Chapter 4He Chose Steak Over My Life

The next morning, my phone chimed. It was a DM from Daisy. It was a photo of her and Dominic in bed—a mess of tangled sheets and smug smiles.

He came to me last night, Margot. He was calling your name at first, but by the end, he knew exactly who he was with. It was my peak ovulation window. Maybe I’ll be the one carrying the Blackwood heir soon. Good luck with the 'ex' title.

I didn't bother getting angry. I just replied: Keep him. He’s a depreciating asset.

By noon, the media was in a frenzy.

[BREAKING: Dominic Blackwood Calls Off Engagement to Tech Heiress Margot West]

[Who is Daisy Miller? The Mystery Girl Set to Become the New Queen of Blackwood Industries]

My social feeds were a graveyard of my past life. Photos of me were being cropped out of gala shots, replaced by blurry candids of Daisy smiling. I was the "scorned woman," the "cold-hearted ice queen" who had finally been thawed out of the picture.

I didn't care. I was waiting.

At 10:00 AM, I received a call from a blocked number.

"Ms. West? It’s the firm. There’s an auction tonight at The Obsidian Room. It involves a major transition project for Blackwood Industries. Mr. Blackwood insisted you attend as a 'special guest.' We’ll have a car for you."

After my father died, I had funneled almost my entire inheritance into Blackwood stock to help Dominic build his empire. Even if we were over, I still owned a significant chunk of that company. I figured I owed it to my bank account to show up one last time.

But I knew Dominic. He didn't do "special guests" out of kindness. I made a phone call of my own first, setting a different set of wheels in motion.

When I arrived at the auction, the atmosphere was predatory.

The auctioneer took the stage, his voice booming: "Tonight’s first item is a gift from Mr. Blackwood to Ms. Miller. A pair of rare Qing Dynasty vases. Opening bid: three million!"

Dominic didn't even look at the catalog. "Ten million."

Daisy sat beside him in a champagne gold gown that looked three sizes too small for her dignity. She looked like a child playing dress-up, radiating a desperate, nouveau-riche energy that made the old money in the room cringe.

A Tang bronze censer. A Song Dynasty tea bowl. A Ming era hairpin.

For every item, Dominic raised his paddle without blinking.

"Item number 48, sold to Mr. Blackwood for Ms. Miller."

"Item 72, sold."

"Item 89, sold."

Daisy clutched a gold hairpin, her eyes gleaming. "Dominic, are you really going to buy me 99 items?"

He squeezed her hand, his voice loud enough for the front three rows to hear. "I promised you a 'House of Gold,' didn't I? You deserve a legacy that isn't built on ice."

I sat in the shadows of the back row, my knuckles white. He had said those exact words to me four years ago.

I waited for the "business" portion of the evening, but it never came. It was just a public humiliation ritual. I stood to leave, but a waiter blocked my path.

"Ms. West, you can't leave. You’re the grand finale. Mr. Blackwood’s orders."

"The grand finale?"

The waiter looked uncomfortable. "You’ll see."

A cold pit formed in my stomach. Suddenly, the house lights dimmed, and a single, piercing spotlight hit me. The stage floor beneath me began to rise, lifting me up until I was center stage, exposed to the entire elite of the city.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the auctioneer announced, his voice tinged with a cruel mirth. "Our 100th and final 'item' of the night. A special surprise curated by Mr. Blackwood himself... the lovely Ms. Margot West."

The room erupted in hushed laughter and mocking whispers.

"Is he actually auctioning off his ex-fiancée?"

"Look at her face. From CEO to a charity lot. Talk about a fall from grace."

Daisy was preening, leaning into Dominic’s chest. "Oh, Dominic, she looks so sad. Do you think anyone will actually bid on her? It’s almost a mercy killing at this point."

My watch vibrated. A text from my contact: It’s done.

I looked down at Dominic. I let a slow, predatory smile spread across my face. The game was over.

"I’m afraid," I said, my voice amplified by the stage mic, "that this auction is officially cancelled."