Beneath His Command

The contract

I was being sold.

In less than forty-eight hours, I would be married off to Sebastian Morales, a man I barely knew, a man my father had chosen like I was nothing more than a signature at the bottom of a deal.

For the tenth time, I picked up the contract, my hands trembling as I read it aloud, as though the words might rearrange themselves out of pity.

They didn't.

The dread settled deeper in my chest, heavy and suffocating, as I scanned every line again, searching for a loophole, an escape, anything.

There was none.

I dropped onto my bed, the paper slipping from my fingers as the weight of it all came crashing down on me. The same helplessness. The same suffocating fear.

The same feeling I had felt twelve years ago.

Silence filled the room, but my mind was anything but quiet. My fists clenched as I forced myself to breathe, to gather the courage I never had back then.

What if I had said no?

What if I hadn't frozen that night?

What if I hadn't stood there, useless and terrified, while my father destroyed everything?

My chest tightened as the memory clawed its way back.

Blood stained the floor. Broken glass crunched beneath my feet. The room smelled metallic. Final.

And my mother…

Her eyes found mine.

Soft. Loving. Fading.

Like I was the only thing she could still hold onto.

And I…

I did nothing.

My phone rang, slicing through the memory.

I gasped, dragging in air as reality snapped back into place. My hands shook as I reached for it.

Edward.

My breath caught.

I hadn't told him. Not about the contract. Not about the marriage. Not about the fact that in less than two days, I would become the wife of the man he hated most.

Sebastian Morales.

A bitter laugh threatened to escape me.

How was I supposed to tell him that his enemy was about to become my husband?

This wasn't just bad news.

This was a war waiting to happen.

And I was standing right at the center of it.

My fingers tightened around the phone, then I turned it off.

No.

I couldn't do this over a call.

I had to face him.

I rushed downstairs, my heart pounding violently against my ribs, my steps unsteady as I made my way to the door.

Only to stop short.

He was already there.

My father.

A slow, knowing smile stretched across his lips as he leaned on his black cane, his tailored suit perfectly in place like he wasn't the devil standing in my way.

My body reacted before I could stop it.

I stepped back.

My gaze dropped.

Just like always.

"Where do you think you're going, princess?"

My stomach twisted at the word.

Princess.

The same word he used when he made me lie.

The same word he used when he turned me into bait.

The same word he used while stripping me of every choice I ever had.

To him, I wasn't a daughter.

I was leverage.

All I ever wanted was a simple life, to run my art studio where I paint the world I never had and stay out of my father's twisted business.

He stepped closer, stopping just inches away. The faint smell of cigar smoke hit my nose. I didn't dare look up.

He tsked softly. Then he placed his rough palm against my cheek and lifted my face.

"I'm sure you could feel the fear," I thought bitterly.

"Just where are you rushing to, my princess?" he asked, his lips stretching into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"I'm… going to… see Edward," I managed, my voice breaking.

"Hmm," he scoffed. "I see."

I said nothing. I just stood there, waiting for permission like I always did.

"You should go then," he said. "Have your little romantic farewell. Enjoy it while it lasts, because by Saturday morning, you will be Mrs. Morales."

There was no emotion in his tone.

He turned and began to walk away.

Something inside me snapped.

"Why? Why must you do this to me?" I shouted.

He stopped but didn't turn back.

"No matter what you do, princess, even your Edward can't save you from the clutches of Sebastian."

Then he walked away.

I crashed to the ground, my throat burning as tears streamed down my face, finally losing the little control I thought I had over my life.