An Open Marriage

        OLIVIA

        

        

        Dominic let out a low chuckle, like I’d just said something stupid. “A divorce?” he repeated, rubbing his jaw. “Did you forget about the prenup you signed on our wedding? One of the rules was that if you ever divorced me or damaged my brand’s image, you’d pay me ten million dollars.”

        

        My breath caught mid-inhale, like my lungs had forgotten how to work. Ten million dollars. 

        

        The number rang in my ears, louder than his smug voice. 

        

        I remembered the pen in my hand on our wedding day. The pages I hadn’t fully read. The smile on my face when I’d signed my name without further questions. 

        

        My hands trembled, but I curled them into fists and looked him in the eye. “You’re not going to use that prenup to threaten me.”

        

        He smiled like he was enjoying watching me fall apart.

        

        “Go ahead,” he said. “File for divorce.” Beside him, the dancer gave me a quick, judgmental glance.

        

        “Do it,” He added. “Let’s see what happens. I’ll bury you in debt, Olivia, and you’ll drown. And maybe one day, the headlines will talk about a washed-up model who killed herself after a messy divorce.”

        

        My blood turned to ice at his words. I stared at him, struggling to believe he was the man I married. Was he wishing me death so heartlessly? Was this his plan all this time?

        

        When I signed that prenup, I truly believed we’d never fall apart because I loved him. And I thought he loved me too. But now, I realized he planned for this. He planned to hurt me and made sure I’d have no way out.

        

        Divorce wasn’t freedom. It was a cage with a price tag.

        

         I couldn’t afford ten million dollars. I couldn’t afford to stay married to him either.

        

         The room felt smaller, the walls closer. 

        

        “You’re a monster,” I spat. “I’ve done nothing to deserve this. I’ve been nothing but a respectful, loving wife, and this is how you treat me?”

        

        He scoffed. “You know what, let’s call it an open marriage. I fuck whoever I want, and you can try your luck with any man willing to take you.”

        

        “Any man willing to take me?” I repeated, stunned.

        

        “Look at yourself, Olivia,” he said, waving his hand in the air. “Then compare yourself with these women around us.” He nodded toward the strippers and party goers nearby. “They’re polished, and sexy. But you…” His eyes raked over me with disgust. “You look like a tired mother of three, not a sexy lady. Not the woman I married.”

        

        I gritted my teeth . “You don’t get to talk to me like that,” I said, my voice shaking.

        

        “You’re just another wife,” he said coldly. “Once you’re used up, you’re no longer valuable. I can have whoever I want and so can you. Go ahead, try. Just don’t fool yourself into thinking you can keep up.”

        

        I stood there, fists clenched at my sides, every word hitting me like a punch to the chest.

        

        “No man wants a woman who just stays home and nags all day,” he added.

        

        “You asked me to quit, Dominic,” I said, voice shaking. “You told me to leave my modeling job because it was too much for our marriage. I was good at it—hell, that’s how we met. I gave it up for you. Then you didn’t like the way I dressed, so I changed that too. I did everything you asked. And now you shame me for the things you made me give up?”

        

        His jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. “I asked you to quit your job. Not to gain fifty pounds,” he said. “I never asked for you to look unattractive.”

        

        A sharp, bitter laugh escaped my lips. “So now I’m too fat for you?” I asked.

        

        He shrugged like it didn’t matter. “No man’s going to want you like this,” he said, looking me up and down with clear disgust.

        

        I wanted to scream. I wanted to break something but I held it in.

        

        “Face it,” he continued coldly. “You should be grateful I’m even offering this. Sex with you is boring, Olivia. You don’t turn me on anymore. You can’t even ride me with all that weight. Maybe you’ll find someone but I doubt it because no one wants sloppy seconds, especially fat ones.”

        

        The girl beside him laughed like it was all some joke and I tightened my fingers.

        

        An open marriage. After he cheated. After I sacrificed everything for him.

        

        I should have cried and begged. But instead, I smiled. “We’ll see about that. But I want you to know you’ve made the worst mistake ever.”

        

        “Mistake?” He raised an eyebrow. “The only mistake I made was marrying you in your prime instead of fucking and passing you on. Olivia, even if you put your name on the celebrity hookup site, no one would bid on you. And if they did, it would be for a hundred bucks, max.”

        

        I clenched my fists and nodded slowly. Fine. If this was the game he wanted to play, then so be it.

        

        According to him, I was fat even though I’m a size six and apparently, at twenty-two, I was already washed up. But the truth was, I hadn’t lost anything of value. Just a shameless, cheating man.

        

        Without saying another word, I turned on my heels and stormed out. By the time I got to my car, my hands were shaking.

        

        Inside, I slammed my fists against the steering wheel. His words echoed in my head.

        

        “Even if you put your name on a celebrity hookup site, no one would bid on you.”

        

        Well, Dominic, that’s exactly what I would do.

        

        My fingers trembled as I unlocked my phone and dialed Lilian.

        

        The line rang and then she picked up.

        

        “Olivia? Are you okay? Where are you?” She asked, the sound of music in the background.

        

        “I’m parked outside Lustra.” I said.

        

        “Oh my god. I’m coming out right now,” she replied. .

        

        “I’m fine, Lilian,” I cut in, my voice colder than I meant it to be. “I don’t need you to see me like this. I just need a favor.”

        

        “Olivia, what is it?” Lilian asked. “I hope it’s not…”

        

        “Get my name on the celebrity hookup site,” I said, taking a deep breath to steady myself. “For tonight.”

        

        “What?” She almost screamed. “Olivia, no. I can’t do that.”

        

        “You can’t or you won’t?” I asked, my voice sharper now.

        

        “I won’t,” she replied firmly. “You know the kind of men who bid on that site. I won’t let you do this.”

        

        “Fine,” I snapped. “I’ll find someone else. Just remember, when I needed you, you took Dominic’s side, after he cheated on me and asked for an open marriage.”

        

        “What? Olivia, wait!” Lilian’s voice jumped with shock. “I didn’t know he said that… Fine. I’ll get your name on the list. But please, don’t do something you’ll regret.”

        

        “I’ll try.”

        

         

        

        *****************

        

        Lilian got me on the celebrity hookup site, a dark platform where famous and exotic women put themselves up for the highest bidder. All kinds of men frequented the site, looking for women to fuck them and satisfy their deepest fantasies.

        

        My fingers hovered over my phone screen, staring at the app as men placed their bids on me. I sat in a tight, seductive red dress that made me more confident.

        

        My makeup was perfect: bold red lips, smoky eyes and blush. And I didn’t even look like myself. Tonight, I looked like the kind of woman men chased after.

        

        I shouldn’t feel proud… shouldn’t feel good that men were bidding on my body on the site. But I did. Because not long ago, Dominic told me no one would ever want me. And now the numbers climbing past $30,000 proved him wrong.

        

The picture Lilian used was a recent one from my I*******m and I stared at it.

        

        Who wouldn’t bid on me?

        

        With my bright red hair, sharp cheekbones, full lips, and piercing green eyes. These were the features that once made me a top model, the ones that had men drooling over me in magazines and fashion shows. And I had wasted them on a man who never truly appreciated me.

        

        I pressed my lips together. But now, I was going to show him that he lost.

        

        I looked at the leading name: D.D.

        

        Most of them used fake names, but something about those initials made my stomach flip. It felt oddly familiar, like I should know who it was.

        

        The bids kept rising and I could barely look away. A second bidder tried to outbid D.D. with $45,000. For a moment, I thought he might win.

        

        Then D.D. struck back with $200,000.

        

        I jolted to my feet, almost dropping my phone and my heart pounded as I gripped it tighter, fingers aching.

        

        Two hundred thousand? Who was this man? Did he want me so badly that he was willing to pay all that?

        

        The countdown flashed to end the bid. 10 seconds left… 6… 3…

        

        I held my breath, watching the screen.

        

        Then it appeared:

        

        Congratulations! One night of pleasure with D.D. awaits you.