My Fiancé Called Me Damaged Goods, Then Sold Me Online novel

All it took was my fianc's foster sister claiming that I had given her a cheap ointment, which supposedly caused her to contract a filthy disease.
Enraged, my fianc, Michael Floyd, snapped.
Right in front of everyone, he broke the hand I used to write prescriptions. And if that wasn't bad enough, he put the private photos we took together when we were still a couple on a resale app.
"Damaged Goods," he titled it. "Free to take."
His friends tried to intervene.
"She's about to marry you. Are you really going to destroy her like this?"
But Michael's voice remained calm, almost eerily so.
"Zoey prescribed the wrong medicine to Jenna and made her sick. Jenna got depressed and almost killed herself. And she still refuses to admit her mistake. She's not worthy of being a doctor."
He added lightly, almost lazily, "It is just to scare her. It is not like I would really send her off and let her catch a disease, too."
I was standing in the doorway, and our eyes met, and I felt my blood run cold.
He didn't even show a flicker of guilt. Instead, he reached out and casually toyed with the ends of my hair.
"This time you were in the wrong," he said. "Suffering a little is exactly what you deserve. As long as you treat Jenna's illness and then apologize to her in person"
He paused, softening his tone. "You'll still be my most beloved fiance."
Swallowing every tear, I forwarded the link.
A second later, someone messaged him privately: 'I'll take her.'
Michael's expression darkened instantly. He crushed the wine bottle in his hand.

The room fell silent. His rowdy friends stopped talking at once.
One of them tried again, this time more cautiously. "Maybe just let it go. This is getting too far."
Michael flicked him a cold glance, then turned to me. "Zoey, what do you think? Do you want to come with me to apologize?"
I lowered my eyes and walked out without a word.
Behind me, his cold, mocking voice echoed down the corridor.
"Your sister-in-law doesn't care. What are you all panicking about? Someone out there actually wants her. How could I not give her away?"
I kept moving toward the bar's exit, though my legs felt strangely hollow. People in the hallway turned to stare as I passed, whispering behind their hands. Their looks felt like needles pricking my skin.
I felt lost and hollow, as if my body were moving while my soul stayed behind somewhere inside that room.
Just then, a drunken man suddenly lurched forward and wrapped his arms around my waist.
His breath reeked as he slurred, "I just got diagnosed with syphilis last week. Isn't that your type? Come with me, sweetheart."
I screamed and called for help, but everyone recoiled, disgusted.
Their scornful voices sliced through the air.
"Isn't she the woman from that viral post? What trash! Didn't she say she wanted to collect every dirty disease?"
"Leave her. Maybe she is trying to seduce him on purpose. Disgusting!"
My teeth chattered uncontrollably. "Stay away from me! My husband is right here. If you touch me, he will not let you go."
"If you had a husband, would you be online begging for diseased men?" he sneered. "Those posts of yours went viral. What man would want a filthy woman like you?"
He shoved his phone toward me.
The page on the screen made my chest twist painfully.
"Go on. Call your husband to save you. If he really shows up, I won't touch you."
As soon as the words left his mouth, the private room at the end of the hallway opened.
Michael stepped out with his friends.
The sight of him shattered whatever composure I had left.
Tears streamed down my face as I choked out, "Michael, save me!"
Michael didn't spare me a single glance.
Instead, he looked at the drunk pinning me down and drawled, "Bro, you do not meet her standards. This woman likes them diseased."
My world collapsed as he turned away without a backward look.
The drunk burst into harsh laughter.
"That is Michael Floyd. Why would he give a damn about a shameless woman like you?"
I didn't know how long I lay there after he left.
At some point, a warm, thick pool of blood spread beneath me. The man panicked, cursed under his breath, and ran off.
Eventually, I rose like a corpse and dragged myself to the ER.
The baby could not be saved.
I had planned to tell Michael I was pregnant as a gift on our third anniversary.

But now, my child was just a small, formless mass of flesh on a metal tray. My coworker on duty stood next to me, her expression a mix of pity and helplessness.
"Dr. Williams Mr. Floyd put pressure on the hospital. He demanded that the hospital punish you. The hospital has decided" She paused and swallowed hard. "They have decided to revoke your medical license. And they are going to pursue compensation. I heard it is more than a million."
I closed my eyes.
The bitterness rising in my chest nearly choked me.
Sensing my pain, her voice softened even further.
"How did Mr. Floyd change so suddenly? He once invested tens of millions of dollars in the hospital for your sake. He even nearly died saving you once." Her voice trembled slightly. "He loved you so much. How could he now break your hand and ruin your career as a doctor, all for another woman?"
'Yes, why indeed?' I shook my head, but no words came.
When I first met Michael, I did not know he had a foster sister.
He had been street racing that night and was brought into the ER with shattered bones, barely hanging on to life. I spent ten straight hours in the operating room fighting to pull him back from the brink.
He woke three days later.
The moment Michael opened his eyes, he ordered his closest friends to bring me to him.
Through layers of gauze and bandages, he forced a smile.
"Dr. Williams, you saved my life. Would you consider letting me repay you with my own?"
I had not taken it seriously.
I assumed it was just another rich young master's joke.
But he pursued me relentlessly for an entire year.
He invested money in rebuilding my hospital until it became the best in Harbor City.
He knew I was always too busy with surgeries to eat, so he cooked for me himself and waited in my break room every day.
It was hard not to be moved, although I tried to resist at first.
Three years ago, a patient falsely accused me of botching his surgery and causing severe headaches while attempting to extort money. He then stormed into my office armed with a knife.
Michael, eyes blazing red, threw himself in front of me and took three stabs meant for me.
When he survived, I accepted his confession.
Our three years together went smoothly after that.
Until the engagement party, when he never showed up.
He returned three days later, holding the hand of a young girl.
Speaking gently, Michael told me, "Jenna just came back to the country and is not feeling well. I have been taking care of her these past few days. I forgot about the engagement."
It was only then that I learned he had a foster sister who had been abroad for years. Her name was Jenna.
Michael asked me to take good care of her.
Naturally, I dedicated myself fully.
Three days ago, Jenna told me she felt discomfort 'down there.' She begged me again and again not to tell her brother.
Assuming she was simply shy, I brought her in for tests and prescribed medication for inflammation.
But when the results arrived, I froze in shock.
Before I could figure out how to tell her or Michael, he burst into my break room with bodyguards, one arm protectively around a tearful Jenna.
With a single command, the iron baton came down.
My right hand twisted under the blow.
Curled on the floor, writhing in agony, I could only whimper and ask him why.
He stared down at me, his expression carved from ice.
"I really thought you were different from other women," he said, each word clipped and cold. "Kind. Gentle. Someone above all those disgusting tricks."
His voice hardened as he continued, anger simmering beneath every syllable.
"But you're vicious. All because I took care of Jenna and missed the engagement, you gave her low-quality ointment and let her contract a dirty disease? She's only twenty. And you ruined her."
He crouched slightly, bringing his face closer to mine, his eyes burning with contempt.
"A person like you has no right to be a doctor," he said quietly. "Breaking the hands you use to write prescriptions consider that your lesson."
Behind him, Jenna suddenly burst into tears and pointed at the test results on my desk.
"Zoey so you planned this all along. You used that ointment to give me a dirty disease, and then you forged the test results."

"Do you really hate me that much?" Jenna screamed. "If my existence disgusts you so much, then I'll just die!"
She pointed at the test results, her voice rising into hysteria. "You showed my results to so many people, didn't you? My reputation is ruined because of you. Living is worse than dying now!"
Before I could react, she suddenly bolted toward the window as if ready to throw herself out.
Michael lunged forward and caught her just in time. Holding her trembling body close, he turned back to me. His eyes showed disappointment and accusation.
"Zoey, you would push my sister to suicide over a simple engagement party? You have really disappointed me."
His tone grew colder as he continued.
"Apologize to her. I want you to publicly admit that you resented Jenna for delaying the engagement, that you intentionally gave her cheap ointment to infect her with a serious illness, and that you attempted to slander her with false test results."
I stared at him through a blur of tears, hollow and stunned.
"Michael, if I really did that, my entire career would be destroyed," I choked. "I will never confess to something I didn't do."
But no matter how much I cried or explained, no matter how desperately I begged him to test the ointment, he refused to listen. He didn't even try.
With a quiet, irritated click of his tongue, he signaled the bodyguards.
They grabbed me, forced my head to the floor, and held me there.
And I had to kowtow one hundred times to Jenna.
Blood splattered across the tiles. Patients and visitors stopped in the hallway, lifting their phones to record every moment of my humiliation as if it were entertainment.
By the time I finished, every ounce of strength had drained from my body. I collapsed and fainted.
When I woke up again, my phone flashed a message from one of Michael's friends, telling me to come to the bar to 'explain things' to him.
Clinging to the last fragile thread of hope I still had, I went.
Only to hear words that dragged me straight into hell.
Afterward, my colleague saw the devastation written on my face. She didn't pry. Instead, she quietly handed me the post-exposure medication.
"Take it on time for a month," she murmured. "Then come back to confirm you weren't infected."
I thanked her softly and drifted home like a ghost.
Not long after, my phone lit up again.
This time, a new message appeared with a plane ticket attached.
[Zoey, don't be afraid. I'm coming to get you. No matter what it costs, I'll heal your hand.]
Curling into my blankets, I sobbed until my voice was gone. I didn't know how long I cried before a sharp, crushing pain shot through my broken wrist.
Terrified, I jolted awake and struggled blindly.
"Don't touch me!"
"Zoey, it's me!"
In the dim light, my vision slowly focused. Michael stood over me.
He smelled freshly showered, and the scent clinging to him was the same body wash Jenna used.
I froze.
Unbothered, he pulled me into a loose embrace. "I only left you with that drunk last night. Do you really have to make such a big deal out of it? I can't even touch you now?"
At his words, my entire body trembled. Tears spilled again.
He frowned, annoyed. "Do you have to be so dramatic? I'm a regular there. Everyone knows me. Everyone knows you're my fiance. Who would dare lay a hand on you? And look, you're perfectly fine right now, aren't you?"
His casual justifications knocked the breath out of me. I could not form a single word.
With a hint of condescension, he asked, "Is your wrist still giving you trouble? I asked someone to get a special ointment. Use it, and your hand will heal completely. You'll still be able to be a top surgeon."
His tone softened slightly, as though he were humoring a child.
"Now you won't hold a grudge, right? You can come with me to apologize now?"
But all I felt was a cold, bitter ache spreading through my chest.
"Michael," I whispered, "let's break up."
I barely finished the sentence when he glanced at his phone, a faint smile lifting his lips as if he had not heard a word I said.
Then, his gaze snapped back to me. "What did you just say?"
Before I could answer, he waved a dismissive hand. "If you want to buy something, just buy it. No need to ask. Consider it compensation."
Already shifting gears, he stood up as he added, "Jenna said she wants to help you choose your wedding dress. Come with me. We'll try on dresses for her to see."

Half-threatening and half-coaxing, he squeezed my injured wrist.
"This time, you had better please Jenna properly and earn her forgiveness. Do you understand?" His voice dropped lower. "If you mess it up again, I really will hand you over to that buyer."
He just grabbed me and tossed me in the car, bridal shop bound, before I knew what was happening.
I said nothing. I only meant to retrieve the keepsake my mother left me, a piece of jewelry I had stored there so I could wear it on my wedding day.
Clinging to that thought for strength, I followed him silently.
When we arrived, Jenna stood there exactly as she had the first time we met, her head lowered shyly and her posture soft and frail. I looked closely for any sign of triumph or guilt after everything she had done to me, but her expression stayed perfectly composed.
Clinging to Michael's arm, she half-hid behind him and whispered, "Zoey, I'm so sorry. Are you glaring at me because you hate me?"
She looked up at him for protection.
"Zoey," Michael snapped sharply.
He pinched my injured wrist, lightly but with enough pressure to make my entire body flinch.
Pain shot through me.
I bit down and forced out, "No."
Only then did Jenna smile sweetly, her voice softening. "Zoey, let's go try on wedding dresses."
At her request, the clerk brought out the gown Michael had explicitly ordered for me. Jenna let out a delicate gasp and snuggled even closer against his arm.
"Michael, can I try on Zoey's wedding dress?" she asked, her voice trembling with rehearsed fragility. Her eyes turned red with fake sorrow. "I am already dirty. I may never have the chance to get married. This might be my only shot at wearing a wedding dress."
Michael's expression softened immediately, heavy with pity.
"Of course you can."
He turned to me then, a sharp warning in his eyes. I lowered my head and nodded silently.
"Great," Jenna chirped, her gaze drifting toward the necklace displayed next to the gown.
"Michael, this necklace is beautiful. Can you give it to me?" she asked sweetly.
Before he could respond, I stepped forward and picked up the necklace.
"I am sorry, this"
"Of course," Michael cut in coldly. "Anything you want, I will give you."
He extended his hand toward me, his expression hard as stone.
"Hand it over."
A dull ache spread through my chest. I pressed my lips together and swallowed the pain.
"Michael, that necklace is my mother's keepsake," I whispered.
"So what?" He yanked my hand aside and ripped the necklace from my grasp. "Do not forget, you owe Jenna. Consider this necklace compensation."
My heart lurched. I reached for it again, desperate.
"Michael, punish me however you want. She can have anything else, but not this necklace."
The moment I raised my hand, Jenna screamed and fell backward.
"Zoey, why did you push me?"
"Jenna!" Michael shouted.
He shoved me aside to catch her.
My foot slipped. The world tilted violently around me.
I tumbled down the stairs.
Pain detonated through my body. My bones screamed as if everything had cracked apart. My vision flickered, fading in and out. A metallic taste filled my mouth, and I choked up a mouthful of dark blood.
Then everything went black.
When I woke again, I was lying in a hospital bed.
My colleague stood beside me, her eyes full of sorrow.
"Zoey, your pelvis was shattered," she said quietly. "We managed to save your legs from amputation, but paralysis was unavoidable."
I stared at the still lower half of my body as grief overwhelmed me with crushing force.
I broke down and sobbed.
If I were paralyzed, even if my hand healed, I could never step onto an operating table again.
My colleague wiped her eyes, her voice trembling with anger.
"Michael is a bastard. You are hurt like this, and he still doesn't care. But that woman sprained her ankle, and he called every available doctor to treat her."
She squeezed my shoulder gently. "Zoey, you do not deserve any of this."

If I had heard these words in the past, my heart would have ached uncontrollably.
Now, however, I was already broken, so thoroughly that nothing could stir even the slightest ripple inside me.
Wiping away my tears, I said quietly, "Help me process the discharge papers."
My flight leaves in three hours.
If I left now, I would make it in time.
More importantly, the disastrous bond between Michael and me needed to end once and for all.
With trembling fingers, I took out my phone and sent him all the evidence proving Jenna had framed me, including the lab report on the ointment.
After sending everything, I changed into my clothes, settled into the wheelchair, and prepared to leave.
Just as I reached for the wheel, the ward door burst open.
Michael stormed in with a rigid, unreadable expression and seized the handles of my wheelchair.
My colleague, who had been restraining herself for days, finally snapped. "Mr. Floyd, you finally remembered Zoey. Do you have any idea what she"
"I know," he cut in sharply.
Then, with a cold, curling smile, he slapped me across the face.
Lacking strength in my lower body to hold myself steady, I absorbed the full force of the blow.
I fell from the wheelchair as horrified gasps filled the room, my head hitting the floor and blood spreading beneath me.
Michael sneered down at me. "I saw the things you sent me."
Shakily, I pushed myself upright and stared at him. "Why?"
Tears blurred everything. The heaviness in my chest made it difficult to breathe.
"I almost believed you," he said slowly. "For a moment, I really thought Jenna had framed you. But then"
He pulled a box of syphilis PEP medication from his pocket and threw it at my face.
"Jenna found this in your bag. So tell me, why would you have this?"
My eyes widened in horror.
"Mr. Floyd, you have misunderstood. That's" My colleague's younger sister managed only a few words before Michael kicked her so violently that she collapsed, unable to speak.
When I saw him raise his foot again, I cried out and lunged forward, trying to shield her.
Michael showed no mercy.
He stomped on me several times, each strike landing directly on my fractured pelvis. Cold sweat drenched my body as darkness gathered at the edges of my vision.
He grabbed my chin and forced my face upward, his expression twisted with disgust and disappointment.
"Zoey, you hid it well. Pretending to be pure and noble, acting like you were above everyone. I chased you for a whole year, and you would not even let me touch you. I actually thought you were a decent woman."
His voice sharpened.
"But it turns out you are filthier than anyone, worse than women who sell themselves. I kept wondering how a bit of ointment could infect Jenna. Now I know. You smeared your own filthy disease onto her and infected her yourself. And then you tried to push her down the stairs and break her leg."
"I didn't," I forced the words through clenched teeth.
Looking up at him, I pleaded, "That medicine is"
"Enough," he roared, cutting me off. "You still want to lie to me? I won't believe another word!"
He flung me aside like trash.
"I used to think you gave Jenna substandard medicine, faked her test results, and spread rumors just to get back at me for missing the engagement. I even felt soft-hearted and thought I would scare you a little to make Jenna feel better."
His voice dropped, chilling and final.
"But I never expected you to do something this vicious, something not even an animal would do. This time, I will not be forgiving."
Michael cast one last look at me before turning away.
"We are breaking off the engagement. I will never marry a poisonous woman like you."
I closed my eyes and whispered, "All right."
His fists tightened, and his voice sank into a cold growl.
"You think that is all? You think I would let you go that easily? Jenna said you need to experience her pain. The man who messaged about taking you is on his way. I will hand you over later."

Zoey, it is time you paid for your sins! Michaels voice cracked with fury as he threw the words at me.
He stared with a feverish intensity, as if desperate to see fear flit across my face, to watch me cry, beg, and crawl on the floor for mercy.
But I only lay there on the cold tile, eyes closed, my heart long since dead.
Bitch! he snarled.
Then, with one last look of disgust, he stormed out and slammed the door behind him.
For a few minutes, the room remained silent.
Eventually, the door creaked open again.
Bitterness rose in my throat.
Tears slipped from my eyes as I whispered weakly, Paul, you are here
But when I opened my eyes, the silhouette standing before me was not the one I longed for.
Several men shuffled into the ward. Their faces were jaundiced, their skin marked with oozing sores and grotesque cauliflower-like lesions.
A stench of infection and decay rolled off them, filling the room, and standing behind them was Jenna.
A scream burst from my throat as I struggled to push myself backward.
With my legs paralyzed and my wrist broken, I could hardly move. Escape was out of reach.
Jenna watched me struggle before throwing her head back in laughter.
Look at you, she said, delighted. You are like a dead dog. Pathetic and hilarious. You actually thought you could steal my man? Go die.
She stepped closer, her eyes bright with cruelty.
You probably do not know this. I was Michaels first love. Back then, he took a hundred beatings for wanting to be with me. His legs were broken, and he still would not admit he liked me.
She tilted her head mockingly. You think he is marrying you because he loves you? Please, Dad said he would only let me come home once Michael got engaged. He had to choose someone.
Her smile stretched wider, triumphant and vicious.
And do you know why he chose you? Because your body looks the most like mine. He said that when the lights are off, being with you feels just like being with me.
A violent ache squeezed my chest. Tears poured down my face.
A memory from our first night together came to mind. I accidentally turned on the lamp, and the room flooded with light.
Michaels face changed instantly. He pulled away from me as if burned and hurried into the bathroom.
He stayed there for what felt like ages before coming out, awkwardly embracing me.
Sorry, baby. First time. I just got nervous.
At that time, I considered it lovely, maybe a little bashful.
I never imagined the truth behind it.
Seeing the life drain from my expression, Jenna clasped her hands together in glee.
Take good care of her, she told the men coldly. Ruin her completely. Ruin her until Michael never wants her again.
The ward door slammed shut behind them.
...
Just one wall away, in the next room, Michael sat stiff and motionless. Through the thin partition, my screams and sobs seeped in like poison. His hand involuntarily clenched at his side.
A soft hand slipped into his.
Michael, do not worry, Jenna murmured soothingly. I told them only to scare her. Once she faints, we will send her to get treatment for her disease.
Michael let out a low hum. He drew her into his arms and brushed a gentle kiss against the ends of her hair.
Thank you for forgiving her, Jenna.
His expression softened, warm and almost tender.
I really do love her. I planned to marry her. But she refuses to accept you. Do not worry. I will send her to the treatment center. They will reform and discipline her properly.
A sharp, vindictive glint flickered in Jennas eyes.
She rose on her toes and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips.
Until Zoey comes back, she whispered, will you keep me company, Michael?
Their lips were still entwined when a deafening crash erupted from the next room.
A heartbeat later, countless horrified screams rose from outside the building.
Someone jumped! A doctor jumped! It is Dr. Williams!

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