You Can't Buy My Heart, Mr. Vitiello

Elena Rossi POV

The auctioneer’s voice was a rhythmic drone, selling off slice after slice of paradise—vacations, vintage wines—to men who already owned islands and vineyards.

I sat at a back table, white-knuckling a glass of water. My eyes were glued to the catalog.

Item 42.

A Jade Bracelet. Translucent, green like deep river water, with a small hairline crack near the clasp.

It was my grandmother’s. My father had pawned it five years ago to pay a loan shark, just before he got in too deep with the Vitiello family. I had spent months tracking it down. It was the only scrap of dignity my family had left.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Lot 42. An exquisite antique jade bangle. Bidding starts at fifty thousand."

My hand shot up.

"Fifty thousand from the lady in the back," the auctioneer called.

"Sixty," a voice countered.

I looked over. It was a faceless businessman.

"Seventy," I bid.

"Eighty."

"One hundred thousand." My voice didn't shake, though my insides were trembling. That was a fifth of my escape fund.

The room went quiet. People turned to look at the woman in the black dress, watching me bid as if I came from old money.

"One hundred thousand going once..."

"Two hundred thousand."

The voice came from the front row. Clear. Entitled.

Sofia Moretti.

She held her paddle up lazily, not even looking at me. She was chatting with the woman next to her. She didn't want the bracelet. She just wanted to win.

My heart hammered against my ribs. "Three hundred thousand."

Sofia laughed, a tinkling sound like breaking crystal. "Five hundred thousand."

That was everything. Every cent I had saved. Every penny I had scraped together from the allowance Dante gave me, hoarding it instead of buying clothes. If I bid this, I couldn't leave. I would be stuck.

But that bracelet was my mother’s tears. It was my father’s shame.

"Five hundred and... fifty," I choked out.

Sofia finally turned around. She looked at me, her eyes narrowing. She recognized me from the club. The nobody. The debt.

She leaned over and whispered something to Dante.

Dante looked at her, then he shifted his gaze back to me. His face was unreadable. A mask of stone.

Slowly, he reached out and took the paddle from Sofia’s hand.

"One million," Dante said.

The room gasped. A hush fell over the crowd.

"Dante," Sofia whispered, loudly enough for the microphone to catch, "you shouldn't..."

"For you," he said, his voice carrying to every corner of the room. "Anything you want."

He wasn't just outbidding me. He was annihilating me. He was using my family's heirloom to court his future wife. He was taking the symbol of my family's ruin and turning it into a trophy for his queen.

"Sold! To Mr. Vitiello for one million dollars!"

The gavel banged. It sounded like a gunshot.

I watched as a staff member brought the velvet box to their table. Dante took the bracelet out. He didn't look at the crack in the jade. He didn't know the history. He simply slid it onto Sofia’s wrist.

She kissed his cheek, preening. The room applauded.

I stood up. My legs felt numb.

I walked out of the ballroom, past the security, past the cameras. I walked out into the cool night air.

I fumbled my phone out of my clutch. My fingers were shaking so hard I could barely type.

I opened the email draft to the National Medical Institute.

*Subject: Fellowship Acceptance.*

*Body: I accept the position in Switzerland. I can start immediately.*

I hit send.

I didn't cry. You don't cry when you're dead. You just start walking.