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Alfred.

He finally released my face, pushing my head back against the pillows harder than necessary, the action causing a small flash of pain. He stepped back and began rubbing his chin thoughtfully while gazing at me with a disturbingly calm, calculating expression.

"You don't have to love me right now," he said in a firm, low tone that sent chills down my spine. "You just have to stay."

The way he spoke made it clear this wasn't a new thought—this was something he had already decided long before tonight, perhaps from the moment he learned I was back in the country. This was a premeditated plan, not a spontaneous act of passion.

"You can't be serious," I said, disbelief coloring my voice. "You can't just keep me here against my will."

"I'm Sebastian Evans," he replied simply, as if that explained everything. And in a way, it did.

"What? You seriously intend to imprison me here like some kind of pet?" I stuttered in complete shock, my eyes widening to their fullest extent as I stared at him in absolute thunderstruck disbelief. The reality of my situation was finally hitting me with full force—he wasn't just making idle threats or trying to scare me. He genuinely intended to keep me here.

"Not a pet," Sebastian corrected calmly. "Never that. You're the love of my life, Alfred."

"This isn't love," I protested. "This is obsession. This is control. Love doesn't lock people up when they say no!"

"You don't understand yet," he said, shaking his head as if I were a child who couldn't grasp a simple concept. "But you will."

"Understand what?" I demanded.

Sebastian didn't answer immediately. Instead, he slowly leaned down until his lips were right next to my ear and whispered with surprising softness, "Yes, I'll keep you here for as long as it takes until you fall in love with me again. However long that might be."

His warm, lovely breath that I had once found so comforting now fanned across my cheeks and neck like a haunting reminder of what we once shared. Despite everything, my traitorous body responded to his proximity, a shiver that had nothing to do with fear running through me.

"Never," I whispered, but without much conviction.

I involuntarily sealed my eyes tightly shut as memories flooded back unbidden—vivid mental images flashing through my mind of our first and last night together. The tenderness in his touch then, so different from his roughness now. The way he had whispered my name like a prayer. The promises we had made in the dark that he had broken in the light of day.

"You remember," he murmured, noticing my expression. "Good. Hold onto those memories, Alfred. That's who we really are together."

"That was a fantasy," I replied, forcing my eyes open to face reality. "This is who you really are."

I forcefully dragged myself back to earth and firmly controlled my rebellious feelings, sternly reminding myself of an important truth: I am not his plaything or possession. He can't simply discard me carelessly and then retrieve me back into his life anytime he wants on a selfish whim.

"Listen to me carefully, Sebastian," I said, clearing my throat and making my voice as steady and determined as possible. "I am not going to stay here with you. I have forgotten about you completely, and I genuinely want to be with the person I truly love now."

I was lying, of course—I hadn't forgotten him for a single day. But he didn't need to know that. My pride wouldn't let me show weakness now.

"Jack is waiting for me," I added for good measure, watching his face darken at the mention of the name. "He'll be looking for me."

"Let him look," Sebastian replied dismissively. "He won't find you here."

"People will notice I'm missing," I argued. "The police—"

"I own half the police force in this county," he interrupted calmly. "And the other half knows better than to cross me."

The casual way he referenced his corruption was chilling—a side of Sebastian I had suspected but never wanted to confirm existed.

"You really have changed," I whispered. "Or maybe I just never knew the real you at all."

"Then you are absolutely not leaving me until death separates us!" Sebastian suddenly shrieked with startling volume, his voice reaching a pitch I had never heard from him before. His eyes were wild, almost feverish in their intensity as he began violently hitting the wall repeatedly with his head, each impact making a sickening thud that made me wince.

"Sebastian, stop!" I cried out in alarm. "You're going to hurt yourself!"

But he continued, as if physical pain could somehow drown out his emotional agony. Blood began to appear on the wall where his forehead struck, a small smear of crimson against the pale paint.

Despite everything—the kidnapping, the threats, the restraints—I found myself desperately wanting to jump out of the bed and rush to him, to wrap my arms around him tightly and somehow stop him from hurting himself further. Each horrible knock of his head against the wall made my own heart pound painfully hard in response, literally taking my breath away with concern.

"This isn't going to solve anything," I pleaded. "Sebastian, please listen to me. This isn't the way!"

"Then tell me what is!" he demanded, finally stopping his self-harm to face me. A thin trickle of blood ran down from his hairline, making him look even more unhinged. "Tell me how to make you love me again!"

"Love can't be forced," I said softly. "And it can't be imprisoned. If you really love me, you'll let me go."

He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could form the words, we were interrupted by someone knocking much harder on the bedroom door, the sound sharp and urgent. I blew out a long sigh of profound relief because the timely door knock had effectively stopped Sebastian's disturbing self-harm. He stood still for a moment, clearly debating whether to ignore the interruption, before reluctantly moving to unlock the door.

"Who is it?" he called out, his voice remarkably steady considering his state just moments before.

"It's Matthews, sir," came the muffled reply from the other side.

"Sir," one of his security men called respectfully from the doorway, his expression carefully neutral despite the bizarre scene he must have walked in on—his employer with blood on his face and his "guest" tied up on the bed.

"What do you want? I specifically instructed that I don't want anyone to interrupt me under any circumstances!" Sebastian snarled, his eyebrows drawing together in a furious scowl. His tone made it clear that this interruption had better be extremely important, or there would be serious consequences.

"I understand, sir, and I wouldn't disturb you if it wasn't absolutely necessary," the man replied with admirable composure. "But there's an urgent situation developing downstairs that requires your immediate attention."

"What could possibly be more important than this?" Sebastian demanded, gesturing vaguely toward me.

The security man hesitated, clearly uncomfortable delivering his news in front of me, but Sebastian's impatient expression spurred him on.

"Sir, I'm truly sorry, but this is extremely urgent and time-sensitive!" The security officer's face looked deeply troubled and genuinely worried as he delivered his news. "We have a significant situation on our hands."

"What kind of situation?" Sebastian narrowed his eyes suspiciously, perhaps sensing this wasn't a routine security matter. "Speak plainly, Matthews. What's happening?"

The man straightened his shoulders, preparing to deliver news he knew wouldn't be well-received.

"Sir, there are several police officers, including the county sheriff himself, along with a growing number of news reporters gathering at the main gates downstairs," Matthews informed Sebastian with obvious reluctance. "They are actively demanding to see and speak with Mr. Alfred immediately."

Sebastian's expression darkened with each word as Matthews continued, "They claim to have an official inspection warrant authorizing them to search these premises, sir. Apparently, someone has formally filed a kidnapping complaint stating that you forcibly abducted Mr. Alfred from the restaurant earlier this evening."

"Jack," I breathed, relief flooding through me. He had seen what happened and acted quickly.

"That meddling bastard," Sebastian growled, confirming my guess.

"The reporters already have cameras running, sir," Matthews added carefully. "Several news vans are setting up equipment outside the gates."

The implication was clear—this wasn't going to quietly disappear. Whatever happened next would likely be captured on film and broadcast across the region, if not nationally, given Sebastian's position as mayor.

"Tell them to leave immediately," Sebastian ordered. "This is private property."

"We've tried, sir," Matthews replied. "They have a valid warrant. If we refuse entry, they're authorized to use force."

"No one will take him away from me under any circumstances, even if I completely lose my political position and every penny of my money! Never!" Sebastian hollered with frightening intensity, slamming both his hands roughly against the door frame. The wood splintered slightly under the force of the impact, a testament to the strength his rage had given him.

"Sir, please consider your position," Matthews urged quietly. "The political ramifications—"