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He Sold My Shame for Six Dollars Novel Cover

He Sold My Shame for Six Dollars

When Adriana demands an apology from her fiancé's foster sister for a painful, fake medical injection, her world is shattered. The next day, her private photos are leaked across the city for six dollars. Seeking comfort from Lorenzo, she instead overhears him boasting to his mafia crew. He proudly admits to distributing the images to crush her pride, confident that her ruined reputation will force her to beg for his hand in marriage. Adriana is left facing a devastating betrayal.
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Chapter 3

"Home."

"Bianca's holding a Family affair tonight and she made a point of asking me to bring you. Are you free? Get yourself ready. I'll come for you."

Before I could refuse, Lorenzo ended the call.

He arrived fast. Even when he saw I hadn't changed, he only let out a soft sigh.

"I saw the pictures making the rounds. Don't let it get in your head. I believe you, all right?"

As he spoke, he pulled a dress from the wardrobe, one cut to cinch at the waist, made to flatter.

"Be good, put this on. It's an insult to keep the Family waiting."

As he reached out to strip away my coat, I suddenly lifted my hand and caught his wrist in a firm grip.

"What exactly do you believe?"

I thought of what I had overheard at the hotel. My voice came colder this time.

"Lorenzo, how are you planning to play this act with Adriana?"

Lorenzo didn't answer. Instead, his phone came alive with Bianca's voice.

"Of course, we'll have everyone, including her, questioning whether she really behaved like a woman without honor. And you, Lorenzo, you step in as the man who saves her when she's at her lowest. That way your betrothal stays untouched and I get what's owed to me. Lorenzo, is that all right with you?"

A long pause followed before Lorenzo answered, his tone indulgent.

"Okay."

Soon after, my private photos had spread across every channel, branded as the mark of a whore.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

"What is it that you believe?"

I yanked the dress from his hands and tossed it aside, exhaustion seeping into my bones.

"I'm not going. Go enjoy yourself."

Lorenzo frowned, a flicker of irritation crossing his face, and the laugh came a half-beat before there was anything to laugh at.

"Adriana! Stop being so difficult!"

"Bianca saw what they put out there. She arranged this whole affair so you could breathe. She also wants the chance to make things right with you, properly."

His fingers brushed over the bruises on the back of my hand.

"This is Bianca's kindness. Don't throw it back in her face."

In the end, I was dragged out the door.

Just before I stepped out of the car, I reached into my pocket for a mask, but Lorenzo stopped me.

His gaze was steady and gentle, like a savior reaching out to the abandoned.

"You don't need that. The innocent have nothing to hide. I believe you, so believe in yourself too, all right?"

Before I could react, he tossed the mask out the window and pulled me from the car.

The moment we walked into the club, the air shifted.

The music still throbbed, but the talk faltered. Every eye turned to me.

Drunken stares dragged over me, crawling like filth against my skin.

Low whispers slithered through the crowd, unfiltered, venomous.

"Look, look. That's her, isn't it? Plays it all cold and untouchable, but who knew what she was behind closed doors?"

"Yeah, that's her. I'd know that face anywhere. Dio, she really looks the part. A whore, plain as day."

Laughter broke around me, sharp and cruel.

My stomach twisted, bile rising in my throat. But I locked my spine and forced myself to stand tall.

Lorenzo's grip tightened as he steered me into a private room off the floor.

The moment we crossed the threshold, Lorenzo let go of my hand.

I dropped my gaze to the tips of my shoes, my heart hammering against my ribs. I searched the room for something familiar, anything to hold on to.

There was nothing.

The eyes in here were worse. Sticky, shameless, suffocating.

"I don't feel well. I want to leave."

I turned, desperate to get out, but a hand clamped around my wrist.

A rough thumb dragged slow and deliberate across my skin, sending a sickening wave of goosebumps over my whole body.

I looked up, straight into the leering face of one of Lorenzo's associates. The same one who had been loudest when they tore me apart at the hotel.

His gaze was brazen, without a trace of shame.

"Leaving so soon, sister-in-law? We finally get you in a room with us. How could you not stay and have a little fun?"

The meaning dripped off every word, thick and vile.

My stomach turned over hard. The air felt thinner. It was getting harder to breathe.

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