The Island Of Us

Chapter4-Auction Of Fate

The auction begins in a frenzy. The air buzzes with excitement, and Marissa struggles to stay calm. Her nerves are raw, but she paces the hall with forced composure. Mrs. Hyde and Mr. Griffin are nowhere in sight.

From across the room, Marissa locks eyes with Clara, who sits in a far corner with Mr. Victor. Clara gives her a reassuring smile, and Marissa returns it warmly, drawing some strength from the silent exchange.

One by one, the guests are introduced. When the host announces, “Mr. and Mrs. Stephen and Marissa Ash,” the couple stands to acknowledge the crowd.

Marissa notices the stares. When she first walked in with Stephen, no one paid her much attention. Perhaps they assumed she was his assistant—or even just an escort. But to be introduced as Mrs. Ash? That drew murmurs and frowns from the crowd.

Marissa flickers her eyes away, choosing not to let their reactions bother her. She forces herself to focus. It doesn’t matter, she tells herself. I have a mission. I have a purpose. I must save Lougraves. That’s the only thing that matters.

She whispers under her breath, “I can do this,” and greets the curious onlookers with a graceful smile.

Stephen, on the other hand, appears unbothered by the attention. His gaze shifts to the clock, a restless energy about him.

The auction continues as antiques from the Hyde gallery—portraits, collectibles, and heirlooms—are sold off to the highest bidders.

Finally, the moment of truth arrives. The host announces the Lougraves Island auction.

“Lougraves Island—also known as Love Pitch Brooke—is the heart of…” The host begins with a speech, praising the island’s history and significance before declaring the opening bid: “Ten thousand dollars. Anybody?”

Paddles rise across the room.

“Ten thousand… eleven thousand… twelve thousand… fifteen thousand…”

The bidding escalates. When it reaches $17,500, Stephen raises his paddle, drawing applause from the crowd.

“Seventeen-five!”

A young couple quickly counters, raising their paddle.

“Nineteen thousand!”

Stephen doesn’t hesitate. His paddle shoots up again.

“Twenty-two thousand.”

The couple rebuffs with a confident, “Twenty-five thousand.”

The tension in the room is palpable. The host remarks, “Oh wow, it’s getting intense!”

Stephen clicks his pen repeatedly, distracting himself. Then, just as the crowd thinks he’s pulling out, he raises his paddle.

“Thirty thousand dollars.”

Marissa’s eyes widen. “That’s too much,” she whispers harshly. “What exactly are you trying to prove? At this rate, he’ll just keep pushing the price higher!”

Stephen shoots her an irritated glance. “What’s this wifey role you’re playing at, Miss Jordan? I’ve been handling my business for years. I don’t need advice from a charity case.”

Marissa rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I forgot who I was talking to—Mr. Throwing Away Money to Fix Problems Without Thinking.”

Stephen ignores her, his expression unreadable.

The host announces, “Thirty thousand dollars, going once, going twice—”

“Forty-five thousand!” the young couple shouts, raising their paddle again.

The room falls silent.

Stephen picks up his pen and scrawls a number on his pamphlet: seventy thousand.

“You’re not doing this,” Marissa hisses. “You don’t get to throw away money like that. The guy is clearly a scam!” She grabs his hand, trying to wrestle the paddle away.

Stephen slams the table, drawing the attention of nearby bidders. Realizing they’re in public, he composes himself, clicking his pen furiously.

The host exclaims, “Forty-five thousand dollars—going once, going twice—and sold to the couple in red!”

The room erupts in applause, with many delighted by Stephen’s apparent loss.

Before the crowd can settle, an elegant, rusty voice cuts through the noise.

“I would like to revoke that sale.”

Heads turn as Mrs. Hyde strides into the hall, Mr. Griffin trailing behind her.

She is a vision of grace, dressed in a floral wine vintage fishtail gown, her rose gold jewelry glinting under the lights. Holding a gold clutch and an envelope, she commands the room effortlessly.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she greets with a smile, “it’s a pleasure to be here. I had to come in person to ensure this auction remains in good faith.” Her gaze shifts to the winning couple. “Your fraudulent dealings are no secret to me. Security, please.”

The hall erupts in murmurs as security escorts the couple out.

Mrs. Hyde turns to the host. “I’d like to pass the bid to the next highest bidders—Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Ash.”

The crowd applauds. Marissa and Stephen stand as they’re invited to the stage.

Mrs. Hyde embraces Marissa warmly. “I believe you two are the rightful owners of Lougraves. My gut tells me this is where it belongs.”

Stephen leans down, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Did you go spying on all the guests here?”

“Very funny,” Marissa retorts, rolling her eyes.

As they leave the stage headed back to their seats they are greeted warmly by Mr. Teth, the host, and Mr Griffin who approaches with a grin. “Wow, didn’t think my advice would have this much effect on the young generation,” he teases, flicking an eyebrow before walking away.

Stephen is about to say something, but Marissa cuts him off. “It’s been a long day, Mr. Ash. Let’s not do this.” She grabs her purse and heads toward Clara.

“What a brat,” Stephen mutters under his breath.

Victor approaches him, grinning ear to ear. “You look ridiculous, you know.” Stephen says giving him a wry look

Victor hesitates. “Actually, sir, you and Mrs. Marissa are invited to a dinner celebrating the auction’s success

Well I’m not interested , Stephen glares at him.

Victor,”. “I’ve had enough from you today. I just need a cool shower and sleep. We have a Dabswill presentation tomorrow.”

I’ll try to make it to the diner if I can

“I know, but Mr. Greg insisted… and Mrs. Hyde is very eager to dine with you both.”

“Fine. Get the driver,” Stephen says, grabbing his phone and trying to make a call.

“And Mrs. Marissa?” Victor turns back.

Stephen stays quiet for a moment, then looks at Victor with a glare. “There’s only one reason I haven’t fired you, Victor. Let me make this clear: That good-for-nothing lowlife charity case is not my wife. What we had was a deal, and I believe it’s over. I won’t repeat myself. If you’re concerned, prepare the divorce papers tomorrow, and have her sign them. You can start a family somewhere near the orphanage—trust me, you’d make a good family. That said, I don’t want to hear her name in our conversations. Do I make myself clear?”

“Apologies, Mr. Ash,” Victor mutters.

“Just get the car,” Stephen snaps.

Victor rushes out of the confidential room to meet Marissa and Clara at the door. He’s visibly shaken, and though he wants to apologize, Marissa has already heard enough. He offers her an arm of forgiveness and walks past her.

Clara holds Marissa and smiles briefly. “It’s alright, Clara. It’s nothing.”

“Shall we go home? The kids are waiting,” Marissa says faintly, looking at Clara before the two stride off.

Stephen walks into his apartment to find his father, Greg, and Mrs. Hyde sitting by the outdoor lounge, chatting. The aroma of marshmallows grilling on the fire fills the air. As he steps closer, Greg looks up and immediately starts with questions about Marissa.

“Uhm… Dad…” Stephen stammers, fumbling for words. “She had to drop by at the orphanage to get her stuff.”

Greg raises an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. “And what are you doing here, son?” he asks from his seat, his voice soft but filled with authority. “You should be waiting for her. You should bring your wife home on your first night. What is this, Stephen?”

Stephen hesitates for a moment, then responds with forced confidence. “I’ll go get her, Dad,” he says, turning toward the door.

Meanwhile, Marissa sits outside by the fireplace, gazing at the beautiful view. The children are asleep, and she and Clara had some time to stretch their legs and chat about the day. It had been an eventful one. They managed to acquire Lougraves with less than the initial bid, saving Stephen from spending too much. It felt good to have secured the land without breaking the bank.

“Well done, Marissa, well done,” She smiles, proud. “Lougraves isn’t going anywhere now. That was the overall miracle.”

Lost in her thoughts, Marissa doesn’t notice her phone ringing until it rings again, pulling her from the stream of reflections.

She picks up her mobile and sees a notification. It’s a document from an unknown number about a mental illness, with a message threatening to leak it. The message reads: “I admit to the sham of a marriage with Stephen Ash.”

Marissa’s heart races. She’s too shocked to understand, too scared to reply, and far too confused to think clearly.

What is this? Who has dementia? Stephen? she wonders. No, that’s highly unlikely… though it would make sense for most of his behaviors. But who is threatening to leak this?

She grabs her coat and rushes out of the house, Clara trailing behind her.

“Marissa, what’s wrong?” Clara calls after her, frantic.

“I can’t talk now, Clara. I’ll call you later!” Marissa shouts over her shoulder, her urgency increasing.

As she rushes toward the wooden fence a car horn blares, the light from the headlights so bright it could burn her eyesight. She shields her eyes with her arms until the light dims.

A figure steps out from the car, and though she can’t see the person clearly, the silhouette feels eerily familiar.

“Get your things and come with me,” Stephen demands, his grip firm as he pulls her toward him.

The shock of the car horn and the blinding light disorient her. She can barely comprehend what’s happening, only holding onto him tightly for a few moments as everything spins.lost in her thoughts for a few seconds it feels safe and comforting and weirdly inviting

“Is this why you’re so eager to be married into the Ash family?” Stephen whispers, his voice dripping with disgust.

“What the heck is wrong with you? So full of yourself.”Marissa pulls away, shaking with anger. “You’re the one who almost ran me over with your car! You can’t seem to miss an opportunity to belittle me, right? Well, not every woman is dying to be associated with you. I’m pretty sure your mom—”

Stephen snaps, cutting her off. “Don’t you dare,” he growls, grabbing her neck tightly, their faces inches apart.

“Don’t you dare,” he repeats, his voice low and tinged with an unmistakable intensity. His breath brushes against her skin as his grip tightens, sending a shiver down her spine.

Marissa struggles to break free, but his grip holds her captive, a delicious pressure against her neck that makes her pulse quicken. Her breath catches as the heat of the moment builds, and she realizes, with a wave of vulnerability, that in this moment, she's nothing more than a girl-trapped in his grasp, powerless against the magnetism of his control.