Sierra

Betrayed. Three years of love dead in an instant. I walked in on Adrian fucking my stepsister Sophia in the parking garage—her legs wrapped around him, his BMW fogged and rocking, her smirk cruel and triumphant.

"Better than her?" she moaned.

"So much better," he grunted.

My world shattered. Then everything fell apart: my father framed, his suicide attempt, suffocating medical bills. Drunk and broken, I let Sebastian—a cold, dominant billionaire—take me hard.

Next morning, a six-month contract: he erases my debts, saves my father, and I'm his property—his to own, his to fuck, whenever he pleases.

I thought it was just a deal, never expecting it hid a twenty-year bond. By day, a cold, untouchable Wall Street tycoon. By night, feral, insatiable, rough yet worshipful—consumed by a decades-long obsession.

He destroys my enemies, uncovers every lie, keeps me locked in his grip. When he drives into me, deep and relentless, his voice ragged against my neck: "I've been searching for you for twenty years, Emma. This cunt is mine. This body is mine. Every fucking breath you take belongs to me. Don't you dare run."

This deal-born possession—ruin or fate? The truth hits: he's loved me all along, waited, burned, just to claim me completely.

I left Luke Morrison unconscious in an ICU eight years ago and rebuilt myself in London—elite auctioneer, an ocean between me and the past.

Then my brother's condition crashed. I'm back in Pennsylvania, standing behind an auction podium at his company's charity gala.

A little boy runs through the crowd and wraps his arms around me: "Mama, you came back."

"Daddy shows me pictures every day," Asher says.

Every. Single. Day. How long has this been going on?

Luke's watching with ice-cold eyes. The bullied boy I left behind? Gone. Replaced by a tech billionaire who makes predators look soft.

"Get in," he says. Not a request.

His penthouse is frozen in time—the art I chose, the books I organized. Our past preserved like he's been waiting.

He's already taken control of my auction house. Engineered my assignments. Built a perfect cage.

Now he's giving me a contract: Sign here. He erases my debts, saves my brother, owns me completely. His wife. His property.

"You owe me eight years, Mia," he says, showing me the scar. "The girl who watched them destroy me and did nothing. This time, you don't run."

When he fucks me, it's worship and punishment. Making me pay for every day I was gone.

"I've waited twenty years for this. Every breath you take belongs to me."

The truth: I was there when they bullied him. I watched. I did nothing.

He's not just possessive. He's broken. And Asher is the perfect weapon to keep me trapped.