Bound to the man who owns me

Chapter Four: The Key

Elias stared at the key in the man’s hand.

It was small. Ordinary.

And somehow more frightening than the cuffs had been.

“Come here,” the man repeated, his voice calm, patient—like Elias wasn’t standing on the edge of something irreversible.

Elias’s heart hammered in his chest. “If you unlock them,” he said hoarsely, “I don’t belong to you anymore.”

The man’s lips curved slightly. Not a smile. Something sharper.

“You misunderstand,” he said. “The cuffs aren’t what bind you.”

He stepped closer. Elias could feel him now—heat, presence, control radiating off him in waves. Every instinct screamed at Elias to move, to retreat, but his feet stayed rooted to the floor.

The man lifted Elias’s hands gently, turning his wrists so the keyhole faced upward. His touch was firm but not rough, fingers warm against Elias’s skin.

“Look at me,” he said.

Elias hesitated. Then he did.

Up close, the man was devastating in a quiet way—dark eyes, sharp lines, absolute composure. Someone who had never needed to raise his voice to be obeyed.

“My name is Sebastian,” he said. “And I don’t take what doesn’t submit.”

Elias’s breath caught.

Sebastian slid the key into the lock—but didn’t turn it.

“This is your choice,” he continued softly. “You can stay exactly as you are. Or you can trust that I won’t harm you.”

“And if I don’t trust you?” Elias whispered.

Sebastian’s gaze didn’t waver. “Then we remain strangers.”

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.

Elias closed his eyes.

He thought of the warehouse. The bidding voices. The certainty that no one had chosen him out of kindness.

Slowly, he nodded.

Sebastian turned the key.

The cuffs fell open with a soft clink, sliding from Elias’s wrists and onto the floor. The sudden freedom made Elias sway, his arms dropping to his sides as sensation rushed back in sharp, painful waves.

Sebastian steadied him instantly, one hand at Elias’s waist.

“There,” he murmured. “See? Still standing.”

Elias pulled back, cradling his wrists, staring at Sebastian with a mix of fear and disbelief. “Why?” he demanded. “Why buy me if you’re just going to—”

Sebastian’s expression darkened, something intense flashing in his eyes.

“Because,” he said quietly, “I don’t want a prisoner.”

His thumb brushed once—just once—over the inside of Elias’s wrist, where the cuff had been.

“I want you aware of exactly who you’re choosing to stay with.”

Elias’s chest tightened.

“And if I choose to leave?” he asked.

Sebastian stepped back, giving him space.

“Then you won’t,” he said calmly, “because I won’t give you a reason to.”

Their gazes locked.

For the first time since the warehouse, Elias wasn’t sure who was more dangerous—the man who could own him…

Or the one who was letting him choose.