Chapter 3

Josie Barnett POV:

A cold dread seeped into my bones. His eyes narrowed, challenging me. I met his gaze, my breath catching in my throat, then I lowered my eyes. It was always easier to submit.

A flicker of satisfaction crossed his face. He pulled me closer, the space between us closing. His lips found mine again, softer this time, but still possessive.

The night unfolded as it always did. A silent ritual of ownership.

Later, as dawn painted the sky in soft grays, he left an envelope on the bedside table. Thick with cash. His payment for my compliance.

My stomach churned. It wasn' t about the money anymore. Not truly. It was about the way he gave it, like a bounty. I was a prized animal, fed and kept.

I closed my eyes, feigning sleep. It was the only way to escape the golden cage, even if just for a few hours.

The next morning, I was back on campus, the fluorescent lights of the lab a stark contrast to Christopher' s opulent penthouse. My phone buzzed. Mom.

"Josie, darling," her voice chirped. "Your father's experimental treatment is working! He's showing real improvement!"

Relief, sharp and sudden, flooded through me. "That's wonderful, Mom! Don't worry about the payments, I've got them covered."

"Oh, my sweet girl," she sighed. "Always so responsible. Speaking of which, when are you bringing that handsome young man to meet us properly? The one in the photo? You know, the one you said you were dating?"

My breath hitched. The photo. A carefully cropped selfie of Christopher and me at a public event, where he' d actually smiled. I' d told them he was my boyfriend. A lie, one of many.

He'd never allow it. He'd made it clear from the beginning. "Our arrangement is private, Josie. Don't forget that."

"Mom, I..." I stammered, scrambling for an excuse. "I'm so busy with my studies. And he's traveling a lot. I have to go, Mom, lab emergency!"

I hung up, my heart pounding. The lie felt heavy in my chest.

I buried myself in my work. Equations, petri dishes, research papers. Anything to drown out the gnawing guilt.

Then, a text from Christopher. Wear the black dress. 7 PM. Fundraiser.

I almost groaned. Another performance. I lost track of time in the lab, absorbed in a complex calculation. When I finally looked up, it was almost six. Panic flared. He really hated being late.

I rushed back to my dorm, threw on the dress, and managed a quick swipe of lipstick. His driver was already waiting.

"Good evening, Ms. Barnett," his assistant said, a polite nod. "Mr. Kirkland asked me to remind you about the graduation ceremony."

My heart gave a little lurch. My graduation. My ticket out. "Thank you," I said, a little too quickly. "I remember."

Just a few more weeks. Then I would be gone. Disappear without a trace.

The car pulled up to a grand ballroom, sparkling with lights. "You can go," I told the assistant, needing a moment alone. "I'll find my way in."

The moment I stepped inside, the air crackled. The room hushed, then erupted in murmurs. Christopher was making an entrance. And he wasn't alone.

My blood ran cold.

She was on his arm. Chaney. Dressed in a shimmering emerald gown, her red lips curved in a triumphant smile. Her hair was swept up, diamonds glittering at her throat. She looked like she owned the world. And Christopher.

My feet felt glued to the floor. She clung to him, her fingers laced through his. He looked down at her, a tenderness in his eyes that made my stomach churn.

"Who's that poor thing?" I heard a woman whisper, her gaze raking over me. "Looks like Christopher's little experiment is over."

He hadn't even seen me. He was too engrossed in Chaney. Whispering in her ear, his hand brushing her back, a gesture of pure devotion.

I felt a sharp stab, a pain so intense it stole my breath. I stumbled back, finding a chair in a dark corner. My head spun.

The auction began. The auctioneer' s voice boomed, listing off rare artifacts and stunning jewels. I barely heard him.

"Next up," he announced, "a truly unique piece. A vintage sapphire pendant, believed to be from the early 20th century, rumored to bring luck to its wearer."

My eyes snapped open. A sapphire pendant. Delicate. Oval. My mother' s necklace. The one she' d sold years ago to pay for my grandmother's medical bills. The one she' d always mourned.

A wave of nostalgia, sharp and painful, washed over me. I remembered her telling me about it, how it was a family heirloom. How she wished she still had it.

I had to get it. For her. For the woman who had sacrificed everything for her family.

My hand shot up. "Five hundred thousand!" My voice was louder than I intended.

A few gasps. I ignored them. I knew what I was doing. My stipend, my savings, even the money Christopher had given me. It was all there.

"Six hundred thousand!" A woman's voice, clear and commanding. Chaney.

My heart sank. She was bidding against me. My gaze darted to Christopher. He was smiling at her, a proud, almost possessive look on his face.

"Seven hundred thousand!" I raised my paddle again, my voice shaking.

Chaney laughed, a tinkling sound that grated on my nerves. "One million!"

My hand trembled. My breath hitched. This was more than I had. So much more.

The auctioneer looked at me, then at Chaney. "One million going once... going twice..."

Christopher took Chaney's hand, a slow, tender gesture. He leaned in, his voice audible in the hushed room. "Buy whatever makes you happy, darling. Anything at all."