chapter 10
Graduation arrived with hot sun and black robes. I stood at the podium, looking out at a sea of faces. In the front row, Roman sat with his parents. They still looked uneasy—like they were waiting for him to snap at any moment.
But Roman was calm.
He was only looking at me.
He held a small camera, recording my speech as if my voice was the only thing he trusted to stay.
I delivered the clichés about hope and futures and bright horizons. The kind of speech adults nod at, satisfied.
When I stepped down, Roman was already there to catch me, hands steady, eyes fixed.
“You were perfect,” he said.
“I was boring,” I laughed.
“You were perfect,” he repeated, like the words were law.
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.
The crowd nearby went quiet.
Roman opened it.
It wasn’t a ring.
It was a small silver dog tag on a delicate chain.
Engraved on it was one word:
SIENNA.
He held it out to me.
Then he bowed his head, exposing his neck.
“Put it on me,” he said.
My breath caught.
It wasn’t a marriage proposal.
It was heavier than that.
A public declaration. A choice. A surrender.
An acknowledgement of what everyone had whispered about for years.
The leash.
I fastened the chain around his neck. The cool metal rested against his throat. Roman straightened, then kissed my forehead right there in front of the headmaster, the board members, and the entire student body.
“Now everyone knows,” he murmured. “If they want to get to me, they go through you.”
“And if they hurt me…” I began.
His eyes darkened, fierce with devotion.
“I know,” he said. “I’ll protect you.”
Hand in hand, we walked away from the school like it was a chapter we’d finally closed.
And as we reached the car, I listened one last time—just once—for that robotic voice.
I wanted to know if the system was truly gone.
At first, there was only faint static.
Then a new message appeared in my mind like a dying notification.
“Target Roman: status permanently locked. Owner: Sienna. Campaign complete. Happy ending achieved.”
I smiled.
“What is it?” Roman asked, opening the car door for me.
“Nothing,” I said, sliding into the seat. “Just… I think I won the game.”
Roman leaned in to buckle my seat belt, his face inches from mine.
“I don’t know what game you’re talking about,” he murmured, “but you won me a long time ago.”
He closed the door, sealing us off from the rest of the world.
The mad dog and his keeper.