Page 69 of Branded

23

SEBASTIAN

I watch her walk away from our home, toward the bunkhouse, her bag over her shoulder, spine straight despite everything. Pride and hurt radiating off her in waves.

And something dark inside me snaps.

The version of myself that had kissed her gently during a morning ride screams at me. The husband who rode with her in comfortable silence, recovering cattle, is replaced by the man who paid two million dollars for a woman at an auction and expected absolute obedience in return.

That Sebastian looks at Lennox walking away and sees a possession trying to escape its owner.

I catch up to her halfway across the grounds, my hand closing hard around her wrist.

“Lennox. Stop.”

She freezes but doesn’t turn around. “Let go of me.”

“No.” I yank her around to face me. “You don’t get to just walk away.”

“Watch me.” She tries to pull free, but I tighten my grip.

“You seem to have forgotten something important.” My voice goes cold, dangerous. “You can’t leave without my permission. That’s the contract. That’s the agreement you signed.”

Her eyes widen, then narrow with fury. “Seriously?”

“You don’t go anywhere unless I say so. You don’t move into the bunkhouse unless I approve it. You don’t make decisions about where you sleep, where you live, or what you do with your time.” I pull her closer, getting in her face. “You’re mine, Lennox. For two years. That means you do what I tell you, when I tell you, or there are consequences.”

“Consequences?” She laughs, bitter and sharp. “What are you going to do, Sebastian? Lock me in the house and fuck me into submission?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

The words come out before I can stop them, brutal and honest. And I see the hurt flash across her face before rage replaces it.

“There it is.” Her voice shakes with venom. “This is the real you. Not the man who showed me the ranch. Not the husband who kissed me like he actually gave a shit. The monster who bought me at an auction and thinks he owns every part of me.”

“I do own you.”

“No, you don’t!” She shoves at my chest with her free hand. “You own my time for two years. You own my body because I signed those fucking papers. But you don’t own me, Sebastian. You never will.”

“Then why are you still here?” I grab her other wrist, holding both now, forcing her to face me. “If I don’t own you, if this is such torture, why haven’t you run? Why haven’t you violated the contract and disappeared? Surely your family has connections to get you out. But you can’t go to them, can you? Because you still haven’t told them about us.”

“There is no us. And I’m here because I keep my word even if it’s going to kill me. Because”—her voice breaks—“some stupid part of me thought maybe you could change. That maybe underneath the brutality and the ownership, there was actually a decent man who might⁠—”

“Might what? Love you?” I laugh, cruel and mocking. “Is that what you thought this was? That I’d fall in love with the woman I bought like livestock? That this would turn into some fairy tale where the monster becomes a prince?”

“Fuck you.”

“You do. Regularly. And you love it even when you hate yourself for loving it.” I pull her against me, my grip unforgiving. “Your body wants me even when your mind knows you should run. You get wet the second I touch you. You come screaming my name. You can’t help yourself.”

“That’s just biology.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

She goes still in my grip. “You’re a bastard.”

“Yes. I am. I’m the bastard who bought you, who owns you, who will use you however I want for the next seven hundred and nine days.” I release one wrist to grip her jaw, forcing her to meet my eyes. “And you can hate me for it. You can cry, rage and fantasize about the day you’re free. But until then, you’re mine. And that means you don’t walk away from me. Ever.”

“I’m moving out of your house.”