Becoming Free Indeed Novels & Stories

An Alpha. Finally free.

Humiliated. But also... free. Completely, utterly free.

Of finally getting past everyone standing in front of me scrutinizing everything that I do. *TICK* Four… Free of all the judgmental stairs and whispers, and from being the perfect princess with a certain image to uphold. *TICK* Three… Free from being wanted simply because of my title, to be responsible and trusted without all the never-ending questions. *TICK* Two… Free of all the protection measures and attempts to keep me locked away for my own safety. *TICK* One… Free to get dirty, and chase fireflies. *TICK* Zero… Free to be me.

"I was so focused on the next step, the next move, and the next 'win' that I completely missed the fact that I was building my own prison. I thought if I just did enough, worked hard enough, or reached the next milestone, I’d finally be free. I didn't realize that freedom wasn't a destination—it was just the ability to sit still." Silas moved closer, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch was firm and grounding. "We all do that. We look for freedom in the things that are easiest to measure—money, success, or just getting through the day. But none of those things actually make you free. You’re only free when you stop caring about what the world expects from your output

I was going to fight for my freedom, and I wasn't going to give up until I was free. ~~~~~

I no longer believed him. And that disbelief felt like the beginning of freedom.

Together. Free.

"We're here today to celebrate the birthday of my beloved princess, Tay!" He signaled, but the birthday cake didn't come out as expected, and the video he'd set up didn't play on the screen. Instead, a man dressed as a priest slowly appeared from backstage and positioned himself between Taylor and Quentin. The priest held the microphone and turned to Taylor. "Ms. Taylor Cross, will you love and cherish Mr. Quentin Scofield, in good times and bad, in sickness and health, through joy and sorrow, for the rest of your life?" When I saw the confusion on Quentin's face, I instantly understood, and my heart dropped.

Putting down the pen, I turned to him with a cold and detached gaze. “Father, are you buying your daughter’s freedom, or are you sending away a beggar? 250 million and the villa on the coast, or else get your princess down here to sign the papers,” I said with a calm voice that made his outburst earlier seem like an ungrateful child throwing a tantrum. “Just sign the papers,” he said with a voice that was meant to sound calm, yet the anger beneath it could not be covered up. Pathetic. They were all pathetic and filthy people who only knew how to exploit others. Did they really think me signing a contract would make me disappear forever? I smiled at the thought, took up the pen, and signed my