4

The heavy mahogany doors of our estate offered no real protection from the storm brewing outside—or the one my father had invited directly into our living room.

I stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the primary drawing room, watching the rain streak down in desperate, frantic lines. I had barely been home twenty minutes. I hadn't even taken off my heels or unclasped the emerald dress I had worn to the auction. My heart was still hammering against my ribs, a lingering echo of the public humiliation I had delivered to Sebastian Morgan when I turned my back on his million-franc necklace.

Then came the sound of tires crushing the gravel on the driveway. Two pairs of headlights cut through the downpour, blinding and relentless.

A minute later, heavy footsteps echoed across the marble foyer.

"Zee!" My father’s voice boomed before he even crossed the threshold. He appeared in the doorway, his face flushed a deep, unhealthy crimson, his silk bow tie undone and hanging loosely around his neck. "Where are your manners? Leaving the gala like a petulant child! Do you have any idea what you did tonight?"

"I preserved what little dignity I have left," I said, turning to face him, keeping my spine rigid. "I refused to be paraded like a prize horse in front of half of Europe's elite."

"Dignity?" my father spat, taking a aggressive step into the room. "Dignity doesn't pay our creditors, Zee! You publicly embarrassed the man who is currently keeping us from bankruptcy!"

"He bought that necklace to mark me, Papa! Not out of kindness!"

"He bought it because he can afford to buy whatever he desires," a voice cut through the air, low, cool, and dangerously smooth.

Sebastian stepped around my father, entering the drawing room as if he already owned the title deed to the property. He had discarded his suit jacket, leaving him in a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled back to his forearms, revealing the dark watch on his wrist. His dark hair was slightly damp from the rain, clinging to his brow, making his sharp, sculpted features look even more intimidating.

My breath hitched in my throat. I looked at my father in utter disbelief. "You invited him here? Tonight?"

"I requested the honor of completing our discussion, Zee," Sebastian answered for him, his icy grey eyes fixed entirely on me, ignoring my father as if he were nothing more than a piece of furniture. "Your father was gracious enough to extend an invitation."

"I promised Sebastian I would talk to you," my father chimed in quickly, his tone shifting from angry to desperately submissive as he looked at the younger man. "I told him you were merely overwhelmed. That you didn't mean to cause a scene."

"I meant every single step I took away from him," I replied, staring directly at Sebastian. "I don't want his gifts, and I don't want him in this house."

My father gasped. "Zee! Mind your tongue!"

"It is quite alright, Arthur," Sebastian said smoothly, raising a single hand to silence my father. His voice was calm, but the dark intensity in his eyes signaled a lethal storm beneath the surface. "Your daughter is simply demonstrating her spirit. A temporary illusion of resistance."

He walked further into the room, his long strides effortless, until he stood just a few feet away from me. The rich, woodsy scent of his cologne mingled with the damp smell of rain, filling my lungs, suffocating me.

"Arthur," Sebastian murmured without breaking eye contact with me. "Leave us."

My father hesitated for a fraction of a second, looking between Sebastian and me. "Sebastian, if she speaks out of line again—"

"I said, leave us," Sebastian repeated, his tone dropping an octave, carrying an absolute authority that left no room for debate.

My father swallowed hard, nodded curtly, and hurried out of the room, closing the heavy double doors behind him with a soft click.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

I squared my shoulders, refusing to back away as Sebastian closed the remaining distance between us. "You think you can just order people around in my own home?"

"I didn't order your father, Zee," Sebastian said, reaching into his trousers pocket and pulling out the velvet box from the auction. He opened it with a quiet flick of his thumb, revealing the breathtaking sapphire necklace resting inside. "I merely gave him an exit before he humiliated himself further trying to appease me."

"I told you I don't want it," I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound composed.

"And I told you that your preferences are irrelevant," he replied softly. He set the box down on the glass coffee table beside us, then stepped terrifyingly close to me. His hand rose, his fingers stopping just short of touching my jawline. "You think you won a victory tonight by walking away from me in that ballroom. You think you showed the world that Zee Mendez cannot be bought."

"I showed them that I am not yours!" I snapped, my eyes blazing.

A faint, cruel smile touched the corner of his lips. "You are mine, Zee. The moment your father placed his signature on my contract, your body, your name, and your future became my property. You can fight it, you can run from it, but every step you take only brings you right back to where I want you."

"I will never love you, Sebastian," I whispered, tears of anger pricking the back of my eyes. "I will hate you until the day I die."

Sebastian leaned down, his lips hovering mere inches from my ear, his hot breath brushing against my sensitive skin, sending a violent shiver down my spine.

"I don't require your love, Zee," he purred softly, his voice dark, possessive, and absolute. "I only require your obedience. And before three months are up... you will give me both."