5

The clock on the dashboard read 2:14 AM.

Rain lashed against the windshield in violent, relentless sheets, the wipers slapping back and forth in a frantic, useless rhythm. The highway stretched out ahead of me like a black ribbon winding through the dark Swiss pines. I pressed my foot harder against the accelerator, my heart hammering against my ribs so violently I could feel it in my throat.

I had snuck out through the servants' entrance while the house was drowned in sleep, carrying nothing but a small leather duffel bag, my passport, and whatever cash I could scrape together. I couldn't stay in that house a second longer. I couldn't exist as a bargaining chip, waiting for Sebastian Morgan to drag me into his golden cage.

My hands shook against the leather steering wheel. Reaching over with one trembling hand, I unlatched my smartphone from its mount, tapped open the voice memo application, and pressed record.

"I hate them," I whispered into the quiet cabin of the car, my voice breaking over the roar of the engine. Tears slipped hot and fast down my cheeks, blurring the red taillights of the distant road. "I hate my parents. I hate being a daughter born into a family that views love as an asset and a child as currency. They sold me without a second thought. They threw me to a monster just to preserve a title."

I took a ragged breath, leaning closer to the phone mic as I navigated a sharp turn.

"And I hate Sebastian," I choked out, a sob rising in my chest. "I hate him for looking at me like I am something he bought at an auction. I hate him for agreeing to a loveless, cold marriage just to expand his empire. He thinks he can own me. He thinks he can crush me until I obey him. But I would rather disappear into nothing than belong to him."

I threw the phone onto the passenger seat, my chest heaving as I drove faster, the speedometer climbing past one hundred and forty kilometers per hour. The rain grew thicker, a deafening deluge pounding against the metal roof.

Then, the center console screen lit up with a blinding glow.

Sebastian Morgan.

My breath hitched. My hand hovered over the steering wheel, terror freezing the blood in my veins. How did he know I was gone? Had he placed a tracker on my car? Was his man already waiting at the border?

Hands shaking, I hit the answer button, steering with one hand as his voice filled the dark interior of the vehicle.

"Zee," he said.

There was no anger in his tone. No thunder, no threats, no cruel arrogance. His voice was smooth, deep, and impossibly calm—a serene anchor amidst the chaotic storm screaming outside my windows.

"Sebastian," I gasped out, my voice trembling. "Don't bother sending your men after me. I'm leaving. I'm crossing the border, and you will never find me."

Silence stretched across the line for a second, heavy and electric.

"I am not sending anyone, Zee," Sebastian replied softly. The quiet resonance of his voice was strangely soothing, washing over my frayed nerves like velvet. "I am sitting in my study. I heard your car leave the driveway."

I gripped the wheel tighter, confused by the sudden gentleness in his tone. "Then why aren't you stopping me?"

"Because you are terrified," he said softly, his tone carrying a profound, quiet understanding that shattered the walls of my rage. "You are running because you feel cornered by a world that has failed you. Your parents failed you, Zee. But I am not your parents. I have never lied to you about what I want."

"You want a contract!" I cried, wiping a tear from my eye as the car hydroplaned slightly on the slick asphalt before catching traction again. "You want obedience!"

"I want you," Sebastian corrected gently, his voice dipping low, intimate, and impossibly warm. "Not a broken girl running blindly into the dark. I want the woman who looked me in the eyes tonight and refused to break. If you cross that border, you will spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, running from shadows. Is that the freedom you want?"

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "It's better than being trapped with a man I don't love."

"Then let me earn it," he murmured. The utter confidence in his voice sent a strange, electrifying shiver straight down my spine. "Don't marry a stranger, Zee. Return to the estate. Give me three months. If I cannot make you see me as the man you choose—not the man you were forced to take—I will tear up the contracts myself and let you walk away with everything I own."

I stared into the black deluge ahead, my heart pounding a strange, chaotic rhythm. In the silence between us, a terrifying realization washed over me. I hated him for his power, yes—but beneath the terror and defiance, his presence made me feel alive in a way no one else ever had. He didn't look at me like a frail flower to be protected, nor a piece of property to be traded. He looked at me like an equal worth conquering.

"Do you swear it?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rain. "If I come back... if I am trapped in this arrangement... you have to make me fall in love with you first. If you fail, you let me go."

"I promise you, Zee," Sebastian answered quietly, absolute certainty lacing every word. "I will make you fall."

When the call disconnected, a profound stillness settled in the car.

My breathing slowed. I looked down at the passenger seat where my phone lay. A faint sense of foolish shame touched my chest as I thought about the bitter, broken recording I had made just minutes ago. I didn't want to be the helpless victim weeping into a microphone anymore.

I reached over, unlocking the screen to delete the file forever.

I never saw the sharp curve in the road.

I never saw the massive timber transport truck swinging wide across the slick lane, its blinding high beams suddenly slicing through the torrential rain, filling my windshield with a wall of white light.

The blare of a horn echoed through the night, swallowed instantly by the sickening, metallic crunch of shattering glass.