I stare at my mum in disbelief.
How could a decision like this be made without me?
My gaze shifts to my brothers—but they continue eating like nothing happened, like this is just another normal dinner. Like I'm not sitting here, being traded.
Not one of them thought to warn me.
The sound of my utensils hitting the plate echoes sharply through the room.
My dad looks up immediately, his glare slicing through me.
"So… are the Houstons dead too?" I blurt, my voice edged with anger.
Silence hangs for a second.
"It would be better if you shut that word hole of yours and finish your food," my father says calmly, already returning to his meal.
Like I didn't speak.
Like I don't matter.
A bitter laugh threatens to escape me.
"Well, I'm the bargaining commodity, right?" I shoot back. "Why not at least let me know when I'll be sold off?"
No one answers.
"Business has become a fierce battle," my father continues, addressing Mr. Ellison like I'm invisible.
My chest tightens.
"That's what happens when a special ops agent becomes a CEO," Mr. Ellison replies.
I push my chair back, ready to leave, but a hand wraps around mine.
I freeze.
My brother.
I turn slowly, glaring at him.
He knew.
Of course he did.
If anyone else betrayed me, maybe I could handle it—but him?
That stings deeper than anything.
"Exactly what I've been saying," my father goes on. "Aetos came in and started controlling the flow of business."
I look at my mum.
She doesn't even lift her head.
Something inside me cracks.
I yank my hand free and walk out.
The air on the balcony is cold against my skin, but it does nothing to calm the storm inside me.
I rest my arms on the glass railing, staring up at the sky.
How could they do this to me?
Like I'm nothing. Like my voice doesn't count.
Maybe it never did.
A shaky breath leaves me.
Then—
The letters.
My chest tightens.
That feeling creeps back in.
The one that never really leaves.
Watching.
Waiting.
I hear footsteps behind me and turn sharply.
"Sarima."
Oliver.
I don't respond as he steps beside me.
"It's been a long time," he says softly, trying to ease the tension.
But I don't want ease.
Not right now.
"The Houstons were found in a river. Car accident," he adds carefully. "It's not your fault."
"And the son?" I ask immediately.
He hesitates.
Just for a second.
But I catch it.
"I… he wasn't found like the others," Oliver says.
My stomach drops.
Something cold coils inside me.
"How do you know that?" I ask, my voice quieter now.
He straightens slightly. "I'm a detective."
I study him.
Memories of when we were kids flash through my mind—simpler times, easier smiles.
"You're still short," he says suddenly, smirking.
I scoff. "Because you grew, what? Two inches?"
"You were always short, Sarima."
I punch his arm lightly. He winces.
"I know you noticed," he says.
"What?"
"My voice."
I roll my eyes, but a small laugh escapes me.
For a moment… everything feels normal.
We both laugh.
And for a second, I forget.
Then I remember.
The letters.
The watching.
The feeling that this moment… isn't ours alone.
"I don't want you to be tense about the marriage," Oliver says, his tone softening.
I exhale slowly.
"I don't know how you're so calm," I admit. "They treat us like exchange tools. Look at Donovan… at Asher… it's like Dad is draining the life out of everyone."
Oliver turns fully to me.
"Look at me Sarima," he says gently. "Don't see it as a business deal. See it as two people who already know each other."
My chest tightens.
"I promise I won't make you sad."
For a second… I almost believe him.
And that's what scares me.
My throat goes dry.
"I don't want you dead, Oliver," I whisper.
He frowns. "You're not cursed, Sarima. You're just scared."
Am I?
Or am I being watched right now?
"Oliver....the truth is...."
My phone buzzes.
The sound cuts through everything.
I freeze.
Slowly, I pull it out.
A message.
Unknown number.
My fingers hesitate… then I open it.
My breath stops.
It's a video.
Black and white.
Grainy.
Live.
Me.
And Oliver.
Right now.
My heart slams violently against my chest as my eyes dart around the balcony.
Nothing.
No one.
But I can feel it.
That presence.
Watching.
Always watching.
Then I see the message beneath the video.
DON'T DARE ME.
The words don't feel like a threat.
They feel… personal.
Like I've disappointed him.
Like I've crossed a line I didn't know existed.
A chill runs down my spine.
For a second, I feel exposed—like even my thoughts aren't mine anymore.
"What's the truth?" Oliver asks, concern filling his voice. "Are you looking for something?"
His hand lands on my shoulder.
I flinch.
Fear grips me instantly.
Not for me.
For him.
"Oliver," I say quickly, stepping away, "I don't want you dead."
His expression shifts—confusion, hurt.
"This marriage… it can't happen."
"Sarima—"
I turn and walk away before he can finish.
I can't explain.
I can't risk it.
Laughter echoes from the hallway as I approach.
My parents.
Mr. Ellison.
Like nothing is wrong.
"You should invite him for your birthday tomorrow," Mr. Ellison says.
"That won't be bad," my father agrees. "We can build the alliance there."
My stomach twists.
I turn back to Oliver.
He's still standing there.
Watching me.
I force a small smile and wave—like a child pretending everything is okay.
He smiles back.
But I see it.
The hurt in his eyes.
I turn away quickly and head to my room.
The door shuts behind me.
Silence.
I collapse onto the bed, my body finally giving in.
My phone buzzes again.
I don't want to check it.
But I do.
Another message.
This time… no video.
Just text.
My fingers tremble as I open it.
"You shouldn't make me jealous Afràtos.
I was patient with you.
Don't make me stop being gentle."
My breath catches.
Then another message appears.
"Tomorrow is your father's celebration.
So many people will be there…
It will be easier to get close to you."
My heart stops
And for the first time…
I'm not just afraid of being watched.
I'm afraid of finally seeing him.