Chapter 3: Terms of Possession
806 Words
“…Okay.”
The word barely left my lips before the room shifted.
Again.
Like something irreversible had just been set into motion.
Sebastian Laurent didn’t smile.
Didn’t react the way a normal person would.
He simply nodded.
“Good.”
One word.
Final.
Decisive.
Like the matter was settled.
Like I had just signed something I couldn’t undo.
My chest tightened.
“What… what happens now?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.
His gaze didn’t leave mine.
“Now,” he said calmly, “you leave with me.”
A murmur spread through the room.
Ethan scoffed.
“You’re serious?”
Sebastian didn’t even look at him.
“Always.”
That one word made Ethan’s expression harden.
“This is ridiculous,” he snapped. “You can’t just take her.”
Take.
The word sat heavily in the air.
Sebastian’s eyes flicked toward him slow, measured.
“I’m not taking anything,” he said. “You gave her up.”
Silence.
Sharp.
Uncomfortable.
Ethan’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond.
Because he couldn’t.
Because it was true.
My stomach twisted.
Not from the argument.
But from the reality of it.
I had been… discarded.
And now
Claimed.
“Wait,” I said quickly, my thoughts scrambling to catch up. “You said this would be an arrangement.”
Sebastian turned back to me.
“It is.”
“Then we need terms.”
The words came out stronger than I felt.
But I forced myself to hold his gaze.
If I was stepping into this
I wouldn’t do it blindly.
For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes.
Interest.
Then
“Speak.”
The single word steadied me more than it should have.
I took a breath.
“This marriage,” I said carefully, “it stays exactly what it is. An arrangement.”
His expression didn’t change.
“No expectations,” I continued. “No control over my life. No—” I hesitated slightly, then pushed through, “—no emotional obligations.”
A faint pause.
Then:
“And the child?” he asked.
My hand instinctively moved to my stomach again.
“They come first,” I said. “Always.”
Something shifted in his gaze.
Subtle.
Almost unreadable.
“Of course.”
The way he said it—
It didn’t feel like agreement.
It felt like… certainty.
“And in return?” he asked.
The question caught me off guard.
“In return?”
“You think I gain nothing from this?” His voice dropped slightly.
Lower.
Colder.
More dangerous.
I swallowed.
“What do you want?”
For the first time—
He didn’t answer immediately.
His eyes held mine.
Unmoving.
Then:
“Loyalty.”
The word hit harder than anything else he’d said.
Not money.
Not power.
Not obedience.
Loyalty.
“I don’t share what’s mine,” he added quietly.
A chill ran down my spine.
This wasn’t just a contract.
This was… possession.
“I’m not something to own,” I said, forcing the words out.
His gaze darkened slightly.
“Then don’t give me a reason to remind you.”
My breath caught.
The warning was quiet.
But unmistakable.
Before I could respond—
Naledi’s voice cut through the tension.
“This is insane,” she said sharply. “You’re really going to marry her? Her?”
I felt the sting of it.
The judgment.
The dismissal.
Sebastian didn’t even turn.
“Yes.”
One word.
Absolute.
Naledi let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “For what? Sympathy?”
Sebastian finally looked at her.
And whatever she saw in his expression—
Made her fall silent.
Immediately.
“No,” he said calmly. “Because I choose to.”
The simplicity of it shut down everything else.
Ethan stepped forward again, his frustration finally breaking through.
“You’re making a mistake.”
Sebastian’s attention shifted to him slowly.
“No,” he said. “You already made yours.”
The tension between them snapped tight.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
And for the first time—
I realized this wasn’t just about me.
There was something deeper here.
Something I didn’t understand yet.
“Come,” Sebastian said, turning back to me.
Not a request.
A command.
My heart pounded.
Everything in me hesitated.
But my feet—
Moved.
Step by step, I walked toward him.
Toward the man I didn’t know.
Toward the life I hadn’t planned.
Toward something that felt equal parts terrifying… and inevitable.
As I reached his side—
His hand brushed against mine.
Warm.
Steady.
Claiming.
“From this moment on,” he said quietly, just for me to hear,
“You don’t stand alone.”
My chest tightened.
Not from fear.
Not from doubt.
But from something far more dangerous.
Hope.
And that scared me more than anything else.
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