The way she looked at Sia wrecked me. Not with disgust. Not even with pity. With fear.
Like she’d just seen a version of herself, fast-forwarded and hollowed out. Knees on a tile floor, mascara running, dignity shattered.
“Master,” Sia had whispered like it meant something sacred. And I saw Floris flinch.
I’d seen a thousand expressions cross her face in our time together—defiance, arousal, grief, rage. But this? This was something new.
A quiet, dawning terror. Not of me. Of becoming her.
And I hated it. “You’re nothing like her, Floris.”
My voice cut through the silence between us as we crossed the parking lot. She didn’t respond right away. Just kept walking, chin high, like she could outrun the comparison playing in her head.
“Right,” she said, sharp as glass. “Because I’m so different from every other woman who’s worked for you.”
“You are different.”
“How? Because I haven’t called you master yet? Give it time.”
I stopped walking. The air was damp and thick with exhaust and rain. She was a step ahead, but she turned when I didn’t follow.
“Because you fought back,” I said. “Because you hacked my system to prove your innocence instead of crawling back to beg for forgiveness. Because even now, after everything, you’re still questioning me instead of falling into line.”
She didn’t argue. She didn’t need to. Her silence said enough.
The drive back was quiet. She stared out the window.
I stared at my own reflection in the windshield, wondering when the hell I started losing control. I’d built a career on seeing four moves ahead. But I hadn’t seen this.
Not Sia’s obsession. Not Floris’s resilience. Not the way either woman would undo me.
When we pulled into the underground garage, I cut the engine and kept my hands on the wheel. I hated apologies. They always felt like failure. But this one was deserved.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
She glanced over. “For what?”
“For accusing you. For tying you up. For not trusting you when it mattered.” I swallowed hard. “I fucked up. Badly.”
She didn’t coddle. Didn’t say it’s okay. “Yeah,” she said. “You did.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“How?”
I turned, really looking at her now. No surveillance feed. No filtered reports. Just her—exhausted, sharp, scared. Still here.
“I’ve never said I love you to anyone before,” I said. “Not once. Not even when I probably should have.”
Her eyebrows rose, but she didn’t interrupt. “But with you… it’s different.”
“Different how?”
“Different like I mean it.” My voice cracked at the edges. “Different like it scares the shit out of me.”
She blinked. Hard. And then looked away, like that was too much. Like it was almost worse than what I’d done to her.
“We didn’t start like a normal couple,” I added, because what else could I say?
“That’s the understatement of the century.”
“But I’d like to try. If you want.”
She could’ve said no. She should have. But she didn’t.
“Okay,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “But we’re doing this my way. No more surveillance. No more contracts. No more psychological warfare disguised as foreplay.”
I felt my mouth pull into something unfamiliar. A smile. A real one. “Deal.”
We made it to the elevator. Then it hit her.
I saw it—the moment she realized she’d just agreed to date a man who once threatened her brother’s life over a confidentiality clause.
I didn’t even wait for her to speak.
“You’re spiraling,” I said. “I can see it.”
She scowled. “I’m processing.”
“Processing what?”
“Us.”
The elevator dinged. Her floor. I knew she was seconds away from bolting—maybe not physically, but mentally.
“You want to know the difference between you and Sia?” I asked.
“Enlighten me.”
“She spent fifteen years trying to become the woman she thought I wanted. You tell me to go fuck myself daily, and I fell in love with that.”
Her face didn’t move for a beat. Then—just barely—her mouth quirked.
“That’s either the most romantic thing you’ve ever said or the most manipulative.”
I stepped closer. The doors were still open.
“Can’t it be both?”
She laughed. Real and reluctant. That sound always hit me in the chest.
“I’m still scared I’ll end up like her,” she admitted.
“Then don’t let me turn you into her.”
“And if you try?”
“Then remember you’re the girl who elbowed me in the face and hacked my system twice.”
That earned a full smile. The kind I wanted to frame and bury in my bones.
“I don’t think I could break you even if I wanted to.”
She hesitated. Then nodded slowly and stepped out onto her floor.
I watched her go.
Right before the doors closed again, I added, “I’ll finish some things in my office. When I come to your room later…” My voice dropped to that place only she recognized. “I want you naked. Ass up. Face down.”
She turned her head just enough to let me see her smirk.
“Yes, master.”