"Why...?" Bernice’s voice broke on the word, fragile in a way she had never allowed herself to be. "I hurt you."

Sebastian didn’t answer immediately.

He only smiled.

Not the careless, flamboyant grin he showed the world, not the exaggerated ease he wore like armor, but something quieter, softer, meant only for her. It reached his eyes this time, steady and unguarded, as if nothing about this moment was uncertain to him.

His hand rose instinctively, brushing away the tears that had already begun to spill over. His thumb lingered against her cheek for a brief second, as though reassuring himself she was truly there, that she was unharmed, that he hadn’t been too late. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"What else was I supposed to do?" he said, his voice low, almost gentle in its certainty.

There was no hesitation or trace of doubt, as though there had never been another outcome—no version of this where he wouldn’t have come for her.

Bernice’s breath faltered.

And then the tears came harder.

They slipped past everything she had held together for so long, past the quiet endurance, the practiced composure, the careful distance she had tried to maintain from him. Her fingers tightened against his shirt as if anchoring herself, her shoulders trembling with a vulnerability she could no longer contain.

This man...

The one she had pushed away.

The one she had hurt, again and again... with cruelty, with distance, with refusal, with a fear she never quite put into words... and still, he was still here and still looking at her as if she mattered.

As if she had always mattered.

As if, in a world that had taken and taken from her without pause, he was the one thing that had never once wavered.

Bernice had spent so long convincing herself she was... expendable. Replaceable. Someone who could be set aside without consequence. Someone no one else saw.

And yet... here he was.

Standing in the middle of danger without a second thought, choosing her as if there had never been another choice to make.

Her lips trembled into something that resembled a smile, though her tears only fell more freely, blurring her vision.

Something unfamiliar stirred in her chest, warm and fragile. It was terrifying in how deeply it reached.

She didn’t have a name for it, not yet.

But for the first time... She didn’t want to push it away.

Behind them, the last of the resistance ended.

Maximilian moved with quiet finality, disarming the remaining men, binding them with practiced efficiency before dragging them aside and leaving them in a corner, unconscious or unwilling to move.

Silence began to settle.

Until... footsteps...Unsteady footsteps was heard behind them.

A figure emerged from the shadows, staggering slightly, one hand pressed against his side as if trying to hold himself together.

Bernice’s breath caught.

Her body went rigid, her fingers tightening instinctively against Sebastian’s sleeve.

Recognition hit before words did.

"...You?" she whispered.

The man lifted his head. He was bruised and disheveled but unmistakable. It was her brother.

The world seemed to tilt for a moment, everything narrowing down to that single, unbearable truth.

"You kidnapped me?" Bernice asked, her voice breaking from something far more fragile than fear. The kind of hurt that didn’t shield itself. The kind that simply... endured.

Her brother didn’t answer right away.

And in that silence, something inside her settled. She... understood.

Bernice let out a soft, breathless laugh, one that carried no amusement, only a quiet, bitter acceptance. Her fingers tightened in Sebastian’s shirt, clutching him as though he were the only thing keeping her grounded in that moment.

"This..." she murmured, shaking her head faintly, her tears still falling unchecked. "This is exactly why I refused you."

Her voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to.

Every word landed with quiet weight.

"Do you see now?" she continued, her gaze flickering briefly toward her brother before returning to Sebastian. "They would go this far... for money. It’s all they’ve ever cared about. It’s the only thing they worship."

Her grip tightened, her knuckles paling slightly against the fabric of his shirt.

"If you had nothing..." she whispered, her voice softening in a way that made it ache, "I would have accepted you in a heartbeat. Not for what you have, but for who you are. For the way you..." Her voice faltered, her breath catching. "For the way you love me."

Sebastian stilled.

The words struck deeper than anything else that had happened that night.

So that was it. No doubt in him, not fear of his family’s wealth and her place there, but fear of everything that came with him.

Her world... colliding with his. And destroying whatever they could have been.

A quiet breath left him, slower this time, his hand still resting against her cheek, though his thumb no longer moved. He didn’t interrupt her, didn’t rush to respond, because this wasn’t something to be fixed with quick reassurance.

It was something to be understood.

"Heh."

The sound cut through the moment, jarring and crude.

Chad scoffed, rolling his shoulder as if trying to shake off the lingering pain. "I only asked for a million," he said, his tone laced with irritation rather than remorse. "It’s not like that’s anything to him."

His gaze shifted toward Sebastian, sharp and calculating now.

"I looked you up," he added, wiping at the corner of his mouth where blood had dried. "You’ve got more than enough. So what’s the problem?" He tilted his head slightly, a mocking edge creeping into his expression. "What? You don’t love her enough to pay?"

The question hung in the air, deliberately provocative.

Then his expression darkened, his hand pressing briefly against the bruise on his face. "Actually," he continued, his tone hardening, "make it five million now. You shouldn’t have touched me."

The shift was immediate. He no longer negotiated, he demanded, as if Bernice wasn’t even part of the equation anymore.

Before anyone could respond, hurried footsteps echoed from the entrance.

A woman rushed in, a paper bag slipping from her grasp as her eyes fell on the scene, the men tied up, the blood, her son injured.

"Chad!" she cried, dropping everything as she ran to him, her hands immediately fussing over his face, checking him with frantic concern. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

Her gaze snapped up then, sharp and accusing.

"You’ll pay for this," she said, her voice rising, filled with outrage, just anger on his behalf.

Bernice’s breath hitched.

Her tears didn’t stop, but something in her expression changed. Something... emptied.

Her mother’s eyes finally landed on her.

And instead of relief, instead of concern... there was irritation.

"Why are you ruining everything?" she snapped.

The words struck harder than anything else.

Bernice flinched slightly, her fingers tightening again around Sebastian as if she might lose her footing otherwise.

"I didn’t—" she began, but her voice faltered, too small against the weight of it all.

"You always do this," her mother continued, exasperation spilling over without restraint. "Do you know how hard things are? Do you think money just appears out of nowhere?" She gestured toward Chad, her tone turning defensive, protective, but not toward Bernice. "Your brother is trying to fix things, and you—what? You make it difficult?"

Bernice stared at her, something breaking quietly behind her eyes.

Fix things?

By selling her?

By handing her over like she was nothing more than leverage?

Her lips parted, but no words came. Because what could she even say, when she had never been seen?

When she had only ever been... used?

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.

And through it all, Sebastian didn’t let go of her.

Not even for a second.

The tension inside the ship had barely settled when the sharp, deliberate sound of clapping echoed through the hollow metal space.

It cut through everything.

Through the accusations, the desperation, the quiet devastation lingering in Bernice’s eyes.

Catherine stepped in slowly, each measured step carrying a calm that didn’t belong in a place like this. Her gaze swept over the scene once—Bernice clinging to Sebastian, the restrained men, the bruises, the chaos—and then settled, cold and unyielding.

"Wow," she said, her tone light, but edged with something unmistakably sharp. "We really do have a family of the year here."