3

The sharp, decisive strike of the auctioneer’s gavel was still echoing through the grand ballroom, but to me, it sounded like a cell door locking into place.

Around us, a polite ripple of applause swelled. The elite crowd, draped in tailored tuxedos and diamonds, craned their necks to catch a glimpse of the man who had casually dropped a million francs on an understated piece of jewelry without a single flicker of hesitation.

"If you will excuse me, Zee," Sebastian murmured, his voice a low, smooth purr beside my ear. "Duty calls."

I stood frozen as he turned and strode toward the mahogany stage. He moved with a predatory grace that commanded the room, every line of his tall, dark silhouette radiating absolute authority. The crowd parted naturally for him, murmuring in breathless, hushed tones.

"Is that Sebastian Morgan?" a woman near the champagne fountain whispered loudly enough for me to hear.

"Look at who he was standing with," her companion replied, fanning herself with an event program. "The Mendez girl. You haven't heard? Her father's company is in freefall. They say the Morgans are buying out their entire portfolio."

"Or buying her," another voice chimed in with a sharp, cruel giggle. "A desperate attempt to keep their name above water."

The heat flushed up my neck, stinging my skin like a burn. I gripped my clutch so tightly the silver frame bit into my palm. I wanted to turn around, to scream at them, to tell them I was not a piece of property up for auction. But the truth was a heavy, suffocating iron weight in my chest. They weren't wrong. The contracts were signed. The ink was dry. I was already owned.

On stage, the curator presented the sleek black velvet box containing the sapphire necklace. Sebastian barely spared the breathtaking jewel a glance. He signed the transfer ledger with a swift, careless swipe of a heavy gold pen, accepted the box from the bowing curator, and immediately stepped off the platform.

He didn't wait for the host to offer congratulations. He didn't pause to network with the dozen high-ranking politicians and shipping magnates attempting to catch his eye.

His dark, unyielding gaze locked onto mine from across the room, and he walked directly back toward me.

The whispers intensified, trailing in his wake like a toxic cloud. People nudged each other, leaning in close, watching the spectacle with ravenous curiosity. Sebastian ignored them entirely. To him, the billionaires and aristocrats filling the ballroom were nothing more than background noise—insects existing in a world he dominated.

He stopped mere inches away from me, his towering frame cutting off the glare of the crystal chandeliers, casting me entirely in his shadow.

"You look as though you've just witnessed a tragedy, Zee," Sebastian said, his deep voice carrying through the quiet tension between us.

"I am living one," I hissed under my breath, my jaw clenched so tightly it ached. "Look around us, Sebastian. Everyone is watching. Everyone is talking."

"Let them talk," he replied indifferently, popping open the spring-latch of the velvet case with a soft clack. The untreated sapphire caught the ambient light, glowing like a piece of frozen ocean depth against the black lining. "Their opinions carry no weight, nor do they alter reality."

He lifted the delicate platinum chain from its casing. The diamonds micro-paved along the links shimmered brilliantly, an exquisite cage designed to rest upon a woman's collarbone.

"Turn around," Sebastian instructed, his tone smooth, commanding, and completely devoid of doubt.

"No," I said, taking a sharp step backward.

His dark eyebrows lifted a fraction of a millimeter. "I am giving you what you wanted. You spent the last twenty minutes staring at this piece as if it were the only thing in this room worth possessing."

"I wanted to buy it with my own money, Sebastian," I said, my voice trembling with a lethal mixture of rage and wounded pride. "I wanted something that belonged to me. Something untouched by your leverage, your contracts, and my father's failures."

"Nothing in your life is untouched by me anymore, Zee," he said softly, stepping closer to close the distance I had tried to create. He held the necklace out toward me, the sapphire dangling between his long fingers like a dangerous temptation. "Take it. Consider it an early token of our impending union."

I looked down at the priceless jewel, then up into his striking, icy grey eyes. There was no warmth in him, no gentleness. He didn't want to make me happy; he wanted to mark his territory. Putting that necklace around my neck was just another way of fastening his collar on me in front of everyone who mattered.

"Keep it," I said, my voice dropping to a harsh, cold whisper that cut through the space between us. "Put it in a vault with the rest of your trophies. I wouldn't wear a single link of it if my life depended on it."

For a fraction of a second, something dark and dangerous flashed deep within Sebastian's eyes. His jaw set into a hard, rigid line, the calm indifference slipping just enough to reveal the ruthless monster beneath the expensive Tom Ford suit.

Before he could speak, before he could reach out and grab my wrist to force my compliance, I turned on my heel.

I didn't care about the gasps that rippled through the onlookers. I didn't care about the scandal of turning my back on the most dangerous man in Switzerland in front of his peers. I held my head high, gathered the silk train of my emerald dress in one hand, and walked briskly away from him.

"Zee," my father’s anxious voice called out from the edge of the crowd as I passed him, his face pale with horror at my defiance. "Zee, what are you doing? Go back there!"

I didn't even look at him. I pushed right past the heavy double doors of the ballroom and burst out into the cool, crisp night air of Lucerne, my heart slamming violently against my ribs as I fled into the dark.