*
Sea's laugh echoed in the cavernous room, sharp and humorless. "You know? What kind of delusion are you living in, Bright?" She stood abruptly, brushing off the lingering fog in her head. "I don't care how much money you have, or what kind of twisted game this is. You don't own me."
Bright didn't flinch. He stayed rooted in place, watching her with a calm intensity that made her stomach churn.
"I don't need your permission, Sea," he said quietly. "You're already here, aren't you?"
Her pulse quickened, but she refused to show weakness. "You won't get away with this. Someone's going to come looking for me."
"Let them." Bright shrugged, moving to pour himself a drink from the crystal decanter on a nearby table. He tilted the glass toward her, offering one, but she didn't move. "By the time they figure out where you are, you'll already have made your choice."
Sea crossed her arms, her nails digging into her skin. "You're insane."
"And you're beautiful when you're angry."
Her jaw clenched. "I swear, the first chance I get—"
"You'll try to run?" He cut her off, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "I'd expect nothing less."
The calm way he said it unnerved her more than his threat. He wasn't just confident; he was absolutely certain she wouldn't escape.
"Why me?" she demanded, desperate to understand the madness behind his actions. "Out of all the people you could've pulled this stunt on, why me?"
Bright's gaze softened, just slightly, as if she'd asked a question he didn't entirely want to answer. "Because you're different," he said finally. "You walked into my world without fear. You challenged me, Sea, in a way no one else ever has."
She thought back to their first encounter—the night she accidentally stumbled into his deal at the docks. She'd overheard too much, said too much. She remembered the way his men had looked at her, ready to silence her permanently, until Bright had called them off. She hadn't thought much of it at the time, chalking it up to luck.
But now, standing here in his mansion, she realized it had been anything but.
"You're insane," she repeated, though her voice wavered this time.
Bright smiled faintly, setting his glass down. "You've said that already."
Sea took a shaky breath, her mind racing. If she was going to survive this—if she was going to get out of here—she needed to stay calm. Play along, figure out his weaknesses, and bide her time.
"Fine," she said abruptly, straightening her posture.
Bright raised an eyebrow. "Fine?"
"You want 365 days? You've got them." She forced a smirk, hoping it hid the tremor in her hands. "But don't think for a second that I'm going to make this easy for you."
His expression flickered, amusement dancing behind his dark eyes. "I wouldn't expect anything less, Sea."
She turned away, pacing the room to put some distance between them. Her gaze swept over the ornate furnishings—the grand piano in the corner, the gold-framed artwork on the walls. Everything about this place screamed power and wealth, but it also felt cold, sterile.
"You know," she said, her voice light but edged with sarcasm, "for someone who claims to know me, you've got a terrible strategy."
Bright leaned against the table, watching her intently. "Enlighten me."
Sea spun to face him, her arms outstretched. "You want me to fall in love with you, right? Kidnapping me and locking me in your creepy mansion isn't exactly a great start."
"I never said this would be conventional," he replied smoothly.
She scoffed, shaking her head. "You're unbelievable."
Bright took a step closer, his presence commanding. "And yet, here you are."
Sea swallowed hard, refusing to let him intimidate her. "What happens if I don't fall for you, huh? What's the plan then?"
Bright's gaze darkened, the teasing glint in his eyes fading. "If, after 365 days, you still don't want to stay... I'll let you go."
His tone was so serious, so certain, that it left her momentarily speechless.
"And I'm just supposed to take your word for that?" she asked, her voice quieter now.
"Yes."
She stared at him, searching his face for any sign of a lie. But all she saw was the unwavering confidence of a man who believed every word he said.
"Good luck, Bright," she muttered, turning her back on him. "You're going to need it."
---
**Later That Night**
Sea lay awake in the oversized bed he'd provided for her. The room was luxurious—too luxurious—with its silk sheets and ornate furnishings. It was the kind of place she might've fantasized about as a kid, but now it felt like a prison.
She stared at the ceiling, her thoughts racing. How the hell was she supposed to survive a year here? Bright had made it clear he wasn't going to hurt her, but that didn't mean she was safe. Not really.
Her fingers trailed over the edge of the pocketknife she'd hidden in her boot when they brought her here.
One year. She could endure anything for a year... couldn't she?
Sea exhaled sharply, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. The mansion was quiet, but she wasn't naive enough to think she wasn't being watched.
Bright's voice echoed in her mind: *"You're mine."*
Her grip tightened on the knife.
Not for long.