Chapter 2

The hope was short-lived, dead within two days.

He overheard Seraphina on the phone in her study, her voice dripping with amusement as she spoke to one of her friends.

"It's all set for the St. Regis, darling. The 'Ethan Experience' is going to be the highlight of the auction."

Auction?

He strained to hear more, his blood turning to ice.

"Yes, an exclusive intimate experience. The bidding is already insane. Julian is thrilled, of course."

Julian. Her lover. The reason for all of this.

"He says he's practically allergic to Ethan's natural... well, you know. That's why I've had to be so meticulous with the disinfection. Can't have Julian getting a rash, can we?"

Her friend tittered on the other end of the line.

"Poor Ethan, he probably thinks my mysophobia is real. The man's an idiot."

The pieces slammed into place, brutal and sharp.

The obsessive "cleansing rituals."

The constant accusations of him being "unclean."

It wasn't about germs. It was about Julian.

It was about her disgust for him, masked by a convenient, cruel lie.

He looked down at his hands, at the painful, red rashes that never quite healed.

Not from an allergy of his own, but from the industrial-strength soaps she forced him to use.

The soaps meant to eradicate any trace of him so she could be with Julian.

The humiliation was a crushing weight.

An "auction." They were going to auction him off.

He stumbled back to his small, sterile room, his mind reeling.

He had to get out.

A memory surfaced, a lifeline.

Their arranged marriage, a cold transaction between powerful families to merge corporate interests.

His godmother, Eleanor Vance. A formidable woman, sharp and perceptive.

On his wedding day, she had pulled him aside, her eyes full of a knowing sadness.

She'd pressed a sealed envelope into his hand.

"For when it becomes unbearable, Ethan. Don't open it unless you truly need to. It's all legally sound."

He had tucked it away, a symbol of a failure he hoped would never come.

Now, it was unbearable.

His hands trembled as he retrieved the envelope from the back of his drawer.

Inside, a crisp legal document. An annulment agreement, citing severe mistreatment, already signed by Eleanor as his legal guardian in this specific matter, a contingency she had built in. It also detailed a trust, granting him financial independence, severing all ties.

He picked up his phone, his finger hovering over Eleanor's number.

He pressed call.