( Sebastian's POV)
The car rolled through the city streets, and all I could think about was how much I hated these fucking events.
They weren't just meaningless affairs; they were battlefields. Every glance, every word spoken was a strategic move — a test, a threat, an invitation.
And tonight, it was no different.
Isla sat beside me, her profile illuminated by the streetlights. She looked like she belonged in this world, despite everything. Her beauty was striking enough to make even the most hardened men pause, but I didn't want anyone looking at her — not the way I knew they would tonight.
Not without the right reason.
The gathering was being held at Carter Jennings' penthouse. I could already feel the weight of his gaze in my mind, his smirk, the way he'd look at Ocean like she was another prize on display. I hated it, but I needed to be there. This wasn't just about control; it was about ensuring everyone knew she was mine.
The moment we entered, the temperature of the room shifted. Conversations paused, just long enough for people to turn their heads and notice the presence of Sebastian Velez. But my eyes immediately found Carter across the room — leaning casually against a column with a glass in his hand, looking every inch the predator.
And next to him… Ocean.
She hadn't seen me yet, but Carter had already made his move. He'd placed himself next to her with that easy smile of his, his posture too familiar, too comfortable.
"Stay close," I said to Ocean ,my voice low but firm.
She nodded, but there was something in her eyes that flickered with a challenge. I couldn't tell if she was defiant or just… unsure of what this world was doing to her.
The air between us crackled as I moved toward them. Carter's gaze flicked over me, then back to Ocean.. He didn't flinch, but his eyes narrowed with a hint of amusement.
"Ocean," he said smoothly, "I was just telling Sebastian how much he's missed out on, keeping you hidden."
I stepped up behind her, placing my hand at her lower back — possessive, unapologetic. Ocean didn't flinch, but she froze.
"Careful, Carter," I warned quietly. "Your mouth's getting ahead of you."
Carter's grin didn't fade. He took a sip from his glass. "I was just being friendly, Velez. But of course, you're very protective of her. Understandable, really. She is stunning."
My hand tightened at her back, and her breath caught, but she didn't look at me. She kept her eyes on Carter, like she was measuring the distance between them.
"I'm sure you know better than to cross me." My voice was so quiet it was dangerous.
"Now, now," Carter said, holding his hands up, "I wasn't trying to do anything wrong." But his eyes never left Ocean's face. He wanted her. I could see it. Every move, every word he'd thrown was aimed to test me. And she didn't even realize she was a pawn in his game.
I leaned closer to Ocean, my lips brushing the curve of her ear. "Don't play his game."
Her shoulders tensed, and I could feel her pulse quicken. But she didn't pull away.
She nodded once, but I saw the flicker of something — defiance? Curiosity? I couldn't be sure, but it made my chest tighten.
The conversation shifted then, as if Carter had won some small victory, but it didn't matter. I had her close now, and that was the only thing that mattered.
We spent the rest of the evening circling the room, always within my reach. I watched her closely as she interacted with others — the way she laughed politely, the way her eyes scanned the room, aware of every gaze on her.
But nothing compared to the moment when she met Carter's eyes from across the room.
She'd been talking to another man, but her gaze slid over to where he stood by the bar. I saw the way she softened for a second. The way her lips parted just slightly. I saw her, but I didn't think she realized she was doing it.
And then Carter smirked, his eyes dragging over her like he was cataloging every part of her.
My hand found her waist again, and I yanked her a little closer than usual. "Did I say you could look at him?"
Her eyes widened, a flash of surprise running across her face. She didn't say anything, but I could feel her pulse racing underneath my hand.
I leaned into her, close enough that she could feel my breath on her skin. "You're mine," I whispered, just for her to hear. "Every inch of you. And no one else gets to look at you like that."
I felt her tremble against me, a small shiver that sent a surge of satisfaction through me. She wasn't entirely mine yet, but I was starting to get what I wanted.
Carter made his way over to us after a few minutes, but I didn't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him. Instead, I turned Ocean toward me, my fingers digging into the curve of her hip as I spoke.
"You're mine, Ocean. Remember that."
She looked up at me then, her gaze searching, conflicted. But it didn't matter. I had already decided what I was going to do with her — what I was going to take from her.
"You're here with me," I said softly, "and I don't share."
The moment I spoke those words, I knew something had shifted between us. She didn't protest. Didn't argue. She just looked at me, her eyes dark with something unreadable.
By the time the evening wrapped up, I'd made sure everyone in the room knew one thing: Ocean was under my protection. No one else's.
Not Carter's. Not anyone else's.
When we finally left, I felt her press against me in the elevator, like she was searching for a way to escape. The tension between us had stretched so thin that I wasn't sure it would snap or break.
"Sebastian," she said quietly, her voice small. "You don't own me."
I smiled. "But I do."
And for the first time, it felt like she was starting to believe it.