The Price of Her 'First Night'

"$500,000 for her virginity."

That was the winning bid my fiancé just placed. The item? His female best friend.

"Don't be so petty, Sylvie," he laughed, pulling her close in front of the whole gala. "I'm just saving her from some old creep. We’re basically bros."

She giggled against his chest. "Yeah, don't be a buzzkill, honey."

I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I simply smiled and raised my glass. "I won't."

I let him think he got away with it. Over the next month, I secretly sold our marital home and took a one-way flight to Paris.

Everett didn't realize I was gone until our wedding day, standing alone at the altar, watching the video I sent him.

Sylvie's POV

I'd been staring at the clock all night, sleepless.

At six in the morning, the door finally creaked open. Everett stumbled in, yanking his tie loose. Exhaustion was etched onto his face. He reeked of cheap alcohol and the cloying, sweet scent of Black Opium.

Thea's favorite.

"Sylvie? What are you doing up so early?" He blinked, then forced that familiar, placating smile. He leaned in to kiss my forehead.

I turned my head just enough.

His lips brushed my hair, and the sickeningly sweet scent of another woman flooded my senses. Suffocating.

"Did you sleep well?" I asked, my voice perfectly level.

Everett froze. He scrubbed a hand over his face, annoyed, and collapsed onto the sofa.

"Ugh, don't even ask. Thea got completely wasted, started throwing up in the hotel lobby. I couldn't just leave her with security, could I?" He sighed, a long, drawn-out sound. "I had to get a room, watch her all night. Total nightmare."

"Watch her all night," I repeated, the words flat and empty.

My gaze dropped to his collar. A faint lipstick smudge he hadn't quite wiped away.

Last night crashed back into my mind.

The charity gala. Thea, a few drinks in, stumbling onto the stage and grabbing the mic.

"I, Thea Davis, am auctioning off my 'first night'! Highest bidder wins!"

The room filled with laughter. A few rich kids whistled, the bids climbing to a hundred thousand.

Then Everett, sitting beside me, raised his paddle.

"Five hundred thousand."

Silence. Every mocking, curious gaze in the room snapped to our table.

He leaned toward me, his voice a low murmur against my ear. "Sylvie, don't. She's just being crazy. You know what those old creeps are like. I can't just let that happen. It's for charity, right?"

On stage, Thea beamed and blew a kiss at him.

"Now that's a real friend! Sylvie, you're not actually jealous, are you? We're just bros. Relax, learn to take a joke."

Then Everett was gone, "escorting Thea to her room." Ten full hours ago.

"Sylvie, come on. Are we doing this again?" He knelt in front of me, reaching for my hands. "I told you, we're just friends. You know her story, no dad, she's... well, she's basically a dude. She just doesn't think things through."

"Oh, I think she thought this through perfectly. Right down to the collar."

Everett shot to his feet, his face flushing.

"JESUS, Sylvie! CAN YOU NOT? We're getting married next month! Can't you just let it go for once? Stop acting like some jealous watchdog. We grew up together. If I wanted something with her, it would've happened LONG before you!"

Staring at his indignant face, the absurdity of it all washed over me.

I used to fight him over her.

The 3 AM calls to fix a pipe. The anniversary dinners she'd crash. The limited-edition bags she'd "borrow." Every time I'd protest, his friends would look at me like I was crazy.

"You're really making a thing out of this? That's just Thea. She's one of the guys."

After all these years, I was just so, so tired.

I took a deep breath and pulled my hands from his. "I'm not angry." I stood, walked to the bar, and poured a glass of ice water. "You must be exhausted. Go take a shower."

Relief washed over Everett's face, and that smug smile returned.

"See? That's my girl. I knew you'd understand. Hey, so Thea's birthday is this Saturday. She wants to throw a party here. Our new place is big enough, right? You can just pick up some drinks and snacks. We'll have everyone over, put this behind us."

Let the 'bro' he just spent half a million on host her birthday party in our home.

I stared at him. My fingers tightened on the cold glass, but my voice was steady. "Sure. No problem."

As he disappeared into the bathroom, humming, I picked up my phone. I opened Thea's private social media.

The latest post: a mirror selfie from a messy hotel bed. She was in a lacy camisole. In the background, Everett's bare, sleeping back was visible. On the nightstand, a few used condoms were scattered like fallen petals.

Caption: Tonight was the warmest gift I've ever received. Thank you to my knight for always protecting me.

My face was a blank mask. I pressed 'like.'

Instantly, a DM from her popped up.

Oops, was totally blackout last night & had to borrow your fiancé. You've always been so cool, I'm sure you won't get jealous of a 'good bro,' right? [kiss emoji]

The old me would have screamed. Would have stormed in there with the screenshot.

But now? Nothing. Not a single ripple. I just stared at the screen, not typing a word back.

It didn't matter. I was already gone.

I opened the email that had been sitting in my inbox all night. The transfer order from Paris headquarters. Chief Designer. Once signed, I couldn't transfer back for three years.

Without a moment's hesitation, I hit "Accept."