Brianna approached him with reluctant obedience, her movements stiff and uncertain. Scott's displeasure was immediate. "What is this? Are you made of stone? You know what's expected of you." "Yes," Brianna whispered, her voice trembling. "To satisfy you. But we're strangers, and there's no affection between us—" "Affection?" Scott's laugh was cruel. "You're my possession, nothing more." His finger traced a deliberate path from her lips across her neck to her collarbone, then lower. Brianna's breath caught as his hand found her breast. Her lips pressed together as she spoke, each word careful and quiet. "Mr. Anderson, I'm ordinary compared to the women in your world. I'm not worthy of you." "Worthiness isn't your concern—I decide that." His voice cut through the silence like a blade. "Why would I chase anyone else when I've already bought you?"