The Tamed and Broken

By the fifth year Dylan Crewe dropped me on a remote island, I finally learned submission.

He brought his sugar baby, a college student, along with a Doberman to pick me up.

I sank to my knees, wiped the sand off his leather shoes with my sleeve, and bent my back as a step for them.

“Your duty from here on out is to take care of Tammy Bates. She and the Doberman are your family now.”

I complied with his demand with a smile.

Dylan took over my family’s empire, pushed my parents to the depths of despair until they jumped to their deaths, while I was abandoned in the middle of nowhere to break me.

He succeeded in his venture. Back in the familiar manor, I couldn’t recognize the place I once called home.

My alarm clock rang at 4 o’clock every morning, as my day would start with a special diet for Dobie and its grooming session.

At nine o’clock, I would lay out Tammy’s outfit for the day and be her literal punching bag at the gym.

I would have the drinks and food ready for Tammy’s friends in the evening, as she kidded around with her friends about how she tamed the once proud, notoriously spoiled heiress of Hedgewood’s high society.

Three months after my return, Tammy Bates won the title at the National Boxing Tournament.

At the celebration party, Dylan Crewe stared at a picture of Tammy holding the trophy high when his eyes caught me in the corner of the frame.

He approached me, his tone of voice carrying a barely detectable quiver.

“Sarah, why didn’t you huddle closer to Tammy for a photo when she took the win?”

Without lifting my chin, I replied in a flat voice.

“I’m not worthy, sir.”

Dylan’s gaze with furrowed brows scanned my face keenly for a hint of resentment or pretense.

Not giving him a chance, I put my focus on scrubbing the already shiny floor.

Tammy strutted from the entrance, feeling as smug as ever.

“Look at my new watch, Dylan. Does it suit me?”

Dylan took a glance at me.

I kept my head down, and my voice was laced with the right amount of flattery.

“You have excellent taste, ma’am.”

Dylan’s scowl deepened.

I didn’t have time for Dylan’s skepticism as the stewing broth of premium meat for the Doberman was still on the stove.

Turning on my heel, I carefully carried out the scalding pot.

Tammy planted her bottom on the sofa, her right hand reaching into Dylan’s pants.

Dylan looked at her with so much love in his eyes, but his gaze turned icy the moment he turned to me.

With great caution, I poured the broth into Dobie’s food bowl and blew on the liquid to cool it down.

Tammy looked over as if she had just noticed me, her voice dripping with feigned charity.

“Sarah, take a break and sit once you’re done.”

Dylan chimed in for once