She Never Touched Me, But Sold Me to the World

Wayne reached out and grabbed my arm. “Byron, stop this. You’re treating the auction like some kind of game.”

I yanked myself free, the motion violent.

In the scuffle, the jade pendant around my neck snapped from its cord and shattered against the marble floor—split cleanly in two.

It was the only thing my mother left me.

Rage exploded in my chest. I didn’t hesitate—I swung and punched Wayne square in the face.

A sharp pain followed a split second later—slap!

Lana had struck me with such force that my ears rang. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth.

She rushed to help Wayne off the floor. He clutched his cheek, eyes welling with tears. “Byron, I’m sorry, I’ll pay for the pendant…”

Lana didn’t even look at me. Coldly, she pulled a wad of bills from her coat and threw it in my face.

“Twenty thousand. You can buy ten more of those worthless things. If you want to act insane, go earn your own damn money.”

I dropped to my knees, gathering the jade shards with trembling hands. My fingertips bled from the sharp edges, but I didn’t stop.

---

Rain poured in sheets over the cemetery.

I clung to my mother’s tombstone, my whole body wracked with sobs.

“Mom... I was wrong… I thought that if I just tried hard enough, I could make her love me. I thought… I thought that was enough…”

The wind howled, whispering like a mournful lament.

Then came the sound of footsteps sloshing through puddles.

I turned to see Wayne walking toward me, a black umbrella sheltering him from the rain.

My eyes turned cold. “What are you doing here? Get out. You’re not welcome.”

He didn’t answer. Just smiled, then pulled a lighter from his pocket.

He flicked it.

The flame dropped to the dry patch of grass beside the grave.

Whoosh! The fire roared to life, swallowing the ground in seconds.

“Mom!” I screamed and dove into the flames, slapping at them with my bare hands.

Behind me, Wayne suddenly broke into a fit of coughs, as if overwhelmed by the smoke.

Lana’s silhouette appeared through the downpour. She rushed toward us, her face darkening the moment she took in the scene.

“Byron! Are you insane?!”

Wayne collapsed into her arms, sobbing. “Lana… I was afraid he’d hurt himself… I came with you to find him. But he tried to burn me alive!”

Lana’s expression iced over instantly. She wrapped her arm around him and looked at me like I was filth.

“Let’s go. He’s not worth a second more of your compassion.”

I knelt there in the flames as they turned my clothes to ash and scorched the ends of my hair.

Even as the fire crews came rushing in, I didn’t move.

Only when the blaze was doused and the smoke cleared did I collapse beside the tombstone, clutching it like a lifeline.

“…Good thing… the grave’s still here…” I murmured, my voice shaking.

A cemetery staff member approached, hesitant. “Sir… why are you trying so hard?”

I looked up, dazed.

He hesitated before continuing, “The grave… it’s empty.”

My heart stopped. “What… what did you say?”

He frowned. “A few days ago, your wife’s male secretary—his surname was Tyler, I think—filed a request to relocate the remains. Paid all the fees. We assumed it was approved.”

I froze.

Lana didn’t have a male secretary.

My fingers trembled as I pulled out my phone and dialed her number.

The line rang for what felt like eternity.

When she finally answered, her voice was cold. “What is it, Byron?”

My grip tightened. “Where’s Wayne?”

Her tone grew sharper. “Byron, my patience is wearing thin.”

Just as she was about to hang up, I caught a voice in the background—someone mentioning a hotel address.

I shot to my feet and ran.

---

The banquet hall was lit like a palace. Crystal chandeliers, silk gowns, designer tuxedos. A toast was in progress.

Lana stood in the center, elegant as ever, a glass of water in hand, smiling politely among the elite.

Beside her, Wayne moved easily through the crowd, perfectly dressed, perfectly poised.

They looked like a match made in heaven.

He spotted me immediately and strode over with a smirk curling on his lips.

“Byron,” he said smoothly, holding out a glass of champagne, “Come on. Let’s have a drink.”