HE GAVE HIS MISTRESS MY PADDLE. HE FORGOT THE AUCTION HOUSE BELONGED TO ME

three months earlier.

The humiliation had been designed with care.

Julian always believed cruelty became respectable when it was wrapped in etiquette.

The auctioneer glanced toward me.

“Mrs. Cross, would you care to respond?”

Every face turned in my direction.

Julian lifted his champagne glass.

“Vivian doesn’t collect anymore,” he said before I could answer.continue reading …