Treat Me Like A Dog, My Bride Will Never Be Her

I walked to the corner of the hall and found a quiet spot to sit.

Giselle's expression stiffened slightly, her brows knitting in momentary confusion—something about me seemed different tonight. Before she could react, the people around her burst into laughter and teasing again.

“Tsk tsk, here we go again. Hiding in the corner pretending to be aloof. Without our Giselle, Mr. Orson wouldn’t even know how to breathe.”

“Still, you can't deny it—the Orson Family is the wealthiest in northern Chicago. Adam is the only son. I heard Adam is planning to host a huge birthday banquet for his 25th and has already handpicked potential brides from the other three major families. Whoever marries him gets a slice of the empire.”

“The Orson Family fortune starts at no less than a hundred billion. I wonder whose hands this heavenly inheritance will fall into?”

Someone winked and smirked.

“Do you even need to ask? Of course, it’ll be our dear Giselle. Everyone knows Adam loves her to the bone. If she told him to drop dead, he wouldn’t even be late for it. Look at this—he’s only been cold for a month and he’s already crawling back like a kicked puppy.”

“Haha, if licking dogs were a sport, he’d be champion. Once she marries into the Orson Family, all of northern Chicago will be the Bentley family’s playground. Giselle really knows how to play her cards—teach us your ways, Queen!”

Giselle acted as if she didn’t hear them, her expression indifferent, but the slight upward curve of her lips betrayed her pride. She raised her voice deliberately, making sure I could hear.

“Trash like that doesn’t even deserve to kiss Davis’s shadow. If he weren’t fun to toy with, I wouldn’t bother glancing his way.”

“He clung to me, begged to marry me and now I can’t shake him off. Honestly, it’s nauseating.”

She paused—waiting, expecting me to crumble.

In the past, I would have.

By now, my eyes would’ve reddened and I’d be kneeling in front of her like a fool, begging her not to leave. No pride. No dignity. Just raw desperation.

But this time?

I didn’t even glance her way. Not a flicker.

Giselle’s smile froze. Her face darkened. She took a step toward me—but Davis quickly pulled her back.

“Giselle, the auction’s starting. Don’t go.”

She had no choice but to sit back down in his arms.

The auction began. Davis seemed to like every item that came up.

Every time he sighed dramatically about not being able to afford something, he followed it up with a noble declaration—he’d work hard, earn his own money and buy it himself.

Giselle looked at his pitiful performance with pity and affection.

She raised her bidding paddle again and again, lighting up the sky lantern for every piece he so much as glanced at.

Each successful bid earned her a passionate French kiss from Davis.

I didn’t move—until the very last item was unveiled.

A jadeite bracelet.

Delicate. Pure. Understated elegance that glowed softly under the lights.

It reminded me of her—not Giselle, but the one I had chosen.

I lit the sky lantern and placed the bid. Just once.

It was the perfect gift to commemorate the license I’d changed.

I was about to leave, satisfied with the only item I came for, when Giselle suddenly called out to stop me.

She walked over with the auction organizer behind her, arms full of purchase receipts.

I frowned. “Something wrong?”

Giselle shoved the stack of auction slips into my hands, speaking with mock generosity.

“Don’t say I never gave you a chance. Pay for all these lots and maybe I’ll let you take me to dinner tonight.”

I flipped through the receipts—fifteen lots in total.

Davis had practically drooled over every item and Giselle had lit the lantern every time. Pieces that shouldn’t have cost over a hundred million were inflated through bidding wars, driving the total to nearly two and a half billion.

When I didn’t respond, Davis scoffed and jumped in self-righteously.

“Young Master Orson, men and women are equal. You’re Giselle’s boyfriend—she feeds you, clothes you, spends money on you—and you can’t even pay for a few gifts in return? You say you love her? Please. That’s not love, it’s hypocrisy and selfishness.”