He Sold My Shame for Six Dollars

The sharp whistles cut through the air, slicing into my eardrums like jagged glass. My body trembled uncontrollably. Somewhere behind the noise, ice shifted in a glass, and the sound was obscene in its calm.

"Come on, slut, bark like a dog for us!"

I bit down on my tongue until I tasted blood, fighting against the humiliation clawing at my throat. Desperation forced the words out of me.

"Lorenzo, please, take me to the infirmary…"

"Don't let them do this. Don't let them strip away the last of my dignity."

But his indifferent gaze met Bianca's gloating smile, severing the last thread of hope I clung to. She tilted her head, and her smile stretched a fraction wider.

I barked. The broken sound escaped against my will, and just before the world went black, I saw Lorenzo lift his glass, taking a slow sip, completely unfazed. The corner of his mouth twitched, a half-beat too soon.

"Keep her clothes on. Don't go too far."

"Relax, Lorenzo. Once the poison wears off, she won't remember a thing."

When I woke, the sterile scent of the Family infirmary filled my nose, antiseptic laid thin over something older and darker. My body ached from head to toe, a lingering reminder of the night before.

Despair settled deep in my chest.

The door opened without a creak, the way doors open in a house where no one wants to be heard, and Lorenzo stepped inside, his mask of gentleness back in place as if nothing had happened.

"Feeling better? You got drunk after just two sips last night. You scared me to death."

Behind him, Bianca pouted, placing a cool hand on my forehead in feigned worry.

"Don't worry, Lorenzo; Adriana is fine now."

I stared at the ceiling, my mind a battlefield of fractured memories, each piece fitting together to form a nightmare I couldn't escape.

The dress I had worn was gone, discarded, no doubt, after being ripped apart during that moment of pure degradation when I was forced to crawl and bark like a dog.

Lorenzo said something else, but his voice barely registered.

At some point, he finally left with Bianca.

"Get some rest. I'll check on you later. If you need anything, just tell Bianca."

I lay there, rigid, staring at the ceiling as shame twisted like a knife in my chest. The memories clawed at me, each one more unbearable than the last.

After what felt like an eternity, I forced myself up, my limbs heavy with exhaustion.

I searched through the mess on the sofa, my fingers closing around my phone right beside the shredded remains of my dress.

A cold dread crept down my spine as I unlocked the screen.

Someone had leaked it.

The dishonor of last night had been plastered across the wire for the whole world to see.

The image of me on all fours, barking like a dog, was captured in perfect clarity. The half-torn dress, the jeering faces, the dim, mocking glow of the lights.

Although the post had been pulled down, the damage had already been done.

Too many had seen it. Too many had saved it.

Whoever had put it up had even left a message: [DM me for the video.]

At the same time, my name and where to find me had been thrown to the dogs.

My phone buzzed relentlessly, a nonstop flood of filth infecting my screen like a virus. Calls came one after another, each shrill ring pounding against my skull.

"How much for one night?"

"Your location? Where can I find you?"

"Is it free?"

"Is there a follow-up? Can you handle so many at once? Such a slut."

My fingers trembled as I scrolled through the onslaught of vile messages, nausea twisting my stomach. My vision blurred, not from tears but from sheer exhaustion. The thin silver band on my right hand spun beneath my thumb, fast, faster, like it could unwind the whole night if I turned it hard enough.

Without hesitation, I grabbed my ruined dress, wrapped it around my phone, and hurled both into the trash can in the bathroom.

Before leaving the infirmary, I borrowed a hat from a cleaning woman, pulling it low over my face.

I didn't dare take a car I hadn't called myself.

The thought of a stranger recognizing me, of seeing that same sickening amusement in their eyes, made my skin crawl.

So I walked.

Three kilometers.

Every step was heavy, my legs weak, but I kept going, one foot in front of the other, until I reached my apartment.

Once inside, I dug out my old backup phone, my hands shaking as I dialed my parents across safe territory, beyond the reach of every man in this city.

The moment they picked up, I could hear the tension in their voices.

My throat tightened. My heart ached. But not a single tear fell.

"Mamma, Papà… has my passage been arranged? Can I come to you now?"

I couldn't stay here any longer.

Silence stretched between us. Maybe word had already crossed the water. Maybe they knew just how far the dishonor had spread, how many hands had passed it along.

I felt like the condemned, dragged into the piazza before the whole Family, stripped bare, forced to endure the mockery and jeers of an unforgiving world, robbed of dignity, of humanity.

Then, at last, my mother spoke. I could almost hear the rings coming off her fingers, one by one, laid in a row on the table.

"Come to us, tesoro. We'll take care of everything."

Before I boarded, my phone rang again, slicing through my thoughts like a blade.

The caller ID flashed.

I blocked the number without hesitation and shut off my phone.

I was done.

I had successfully severed myself from the chaos. With my phone dead, I remained blissfully unaware that the infirmary had plunged into turmoil.

Meanwhile, Lorenzo sat on the empty infirmary bed, his face as dark as the bottom of a pot. The air was thick, and everyone who had been present last night stood on edge, trembling, Bianca among them, though her chin stayed high.

Time dragged on before the man who had held my wrist yesterday finally burst into the room, panting heavily, the door slamming back against the wall.

"Lorenzo… Lorenzo, this is bad! I asked around, and it turns out the apothecary's poison you used doesn't actually erase what happens after it wears off! I think we might have gone too far!"