Amara didn't sleep much.
Her fingers had lingered too long on the contract before placing it in her bag. The weight of it felt unnatural, like a stone pressing against her spine. But beneath the anxiety… was something else.
A pulse of desire. A need to test limits. To be seen.
To be known.
When she walked into the office the next morning, she expected to find Leon already waiting. But for once, his office was empty. The blinds half-closed. The air quiet.
Good. She needed a moment.
She went to her desk, opened her bag, and pulled the envelope free. She placed it on the edge of her desk like a confession. Bold. Visible. Waiting to be claimed.
He arrived at 8:32 a.m. sharp. Dark grey suit. White shirt. No tie. He didn't greet her as he passed—just glanced at the envelope.
He stopped.
Picked it up.
Their eyes met. Held.
He opened it without a word, scanning the signature at the bottom. Then slowly, carefully, he folded it and slipped it into his inner jacket pocket.
"Close the door," he said.
Her heartbeat jumped.
She stepped into his office, shut the glass door, and faced him. No desk between them now. No calendar or email or task list to shield her.
Leon moved around to the front of his desk and leaned against it, arms folded.
"This isn't a game," he said.
"I'm not playing."
He raised a brow, then stepped forward until she could feel his breath. "Then tell me why you signed it."
Amara's voice was quiet, but steady. "Because I'm curious. Because I want to understand what it means to give control without losing myself."
Leon's eyes flicked across her face, searching. Reading. Calculating.
"And because," she added, softer, "you make it hard to say no."
His expression didn't change, but she felt the shift. The tension tighten.
He reached out and touched her chin, gently lifting it. "You're giving me your trust."
"I know."
"And your body."
She nodded once.
"But not your heart," he said, voice low.
She hesitated. "Not yet."
He smiled faintly. "Good."
Then he stepped back. The spell, for a moment, uncoiled.
"There's a private space on the top floor," he said. "I don't take clients there. No meetings. Just you and me, when I decide the time is right."
Her mouth went dry. "When will that be?"
"When I'm sure you're ready to stop pretending you're not already mine."