Page 11 of Branded

“Of course.” Sebastian leans back in his chair, perfectly comfortable. “Take all the time you need.”

But I can’t take time. There is no time, Janie is already on a plane, and the money has been transferred. I’m sitting here in a silk robe over lingerie, next to the most beautiful man I have ever encountered, and forty men have just watched me strip down to basically nothing while they decided how much I was worth.

There is no going back.

I pick up the following document, the words MARRIAGE LICENSE – STATE OF CALIFORNIA printed across the top in official lettering.

“This is insane,” I say quietly. “You shouldn’t be able to buy a wife.”

“I’m not buying a wife, I’m removing debts that she can’t pay back,” Sebastian corrects. “I’m entering into a legally binding marriage with a consenting adult. You walked onto that stage of your own free will, Lennox. You agreed to the terms. The only difference is that you didn’t read the fine print.”

“I didn’t read the contract because I was saving my friend!” The words burst out of me, sharp and furious. “Janie couldn’t do this. She would have died up there. I took her place, and now you’re telling me I signed up for marriage without even knowing it?”

“Yes,” he replies simply.

I want to throw the papers at him. I want to scream, to run, to call my father and tell him I’ve made a terrible mistake and need help. He’d bring lawyers, money, maybe even violence if necessary. No, violence was a guarantee with my family; we protect our own and we’d go to whatever lengths needed.

But that would mean admitting where I am. What I’ve done. That I walked onto an auction stage and let men bid on me like livestock. My father will never forgive me. My brothers will want to kill someone, probably both me and Sebastian.

“What happens if I refuse to sign?” I ask.

Margaret fields this question. “The contract you’ve just signed obligates you to the arrangement. Refusal to complete the marriage license would be considered breach of contract, which carries significant financial penalties and potential legal action. Additionally…” She pauses delicately. “The auction house would be within their rights to pursue your friend, Miss Turner, as the original contracted party for monies owed.”

There it is. The real trap for me. If I refuse, they’ll go after Janie.

Sebastian is watching me, his expression calculating. “You know, I wasn’t planning to bid on anyone tonight. There wasn’t anyone strong enough to handle what I needed, and sophisticated enough to present well in public. But then you walked across the stage.” He smiles. “That’s a bonus I didn’t expect. My mother’s going to be thrilled that I’m bringing home someone who knows our life, rather than a socialite.”

“Your mother?”

“Eleanor Drake. She’s very invested in appropriate matches for her children. She’ll be thrilled I’m finally settling down with someone from a respectable family.” His eyes glint with dark amusement. “Of course, she might be less thrilled when she learns the circumstances of our marriage. But by then, it’ll be too late.”

“You’re going to tell your family?”

“Absolutely. In fact—” he pulls out his phone again “—I think I’ll call my father right now.”

“Don’t.” The word comes out sharp. “Please. My family can’t know about this.”

“Why not?” He lowers the phone but doesn’t put it away. “Ashamed of me already, wife?”

“I’m not your wife yet.”

“A technicality that we will fix in about two minutes.” He gestures to the unsigned marriage license in front of me. “Sign the paper, Lennox. You made your decision when you walked onto that stage. Everything after is just paperwork.”

He’s right, and I hate him for it.

I look down at the marriage license. At the blank lines waiting for my signature, for my legal name, for my consent to become Mrs. Sebastian Drake.

Warren Briggs’s daughter marrying into the Drake family. On paper, it would look like exactly the kind of alliance my father wants for me. Two powerful ranching families joining forces.

Nobody would know I’ve been bought.

Twenty-four months. Seven hundred and thirty days. I could survive anything for seven hundred and thirty days. I’ve survived Montana winters that dropped to forty below. Survived calving season where you worked twenty-hour days and watched animals die despite your best efforts. Survived my father’s disappointment when I told him I was leaving for California.

I’ll make the best of this. Hell, on the bright side, it means I won’t have rent for two years, there’s no need to find a new roommate, and when it’s over I’ll be able to start over.

“I want that in writing,” I say. “The settlement at the end. The freedom to leave. Everything.”

“It’s already in the contract.” Margaret turns to page seventeen and points to a clause. “Upon successful completion of the twenty-four-month term, the Bride will receive a settlement of five hundred thousand dollars and full release from all contractual obligations. No-fault divorce will be filed immediately, with Mr. Drake waiving all rights to contest.”