“You belong to me now.”
The words were not spoken loudly, yet they wrapped around Althea’s chest like iron chains.
The world outside the penthouse was drowned in rain. The city lights blurred behind the glass walls, reflecting the chaos inside her mind. Her hands trembled, not from cold, but from the realization that her life had crossed a line she could never erase.
Dante Moretti stood before her, tall and composed, his presence dominating the room without effort. His dark eyes were unreadable, as if emotions were foreign concepts he had long abandoned.
“I didn’t agree to this,” Althea whispered.
Dante tilted his head slightly, as if amused. “You did. The moment your boss signed the contract.”
Her breath hitched. “I’m not a thing that can be sold.”
“No,” Dante replied calmly. “You’
