Guilty

The woman was already kneeling on the black bed, blindfolded, waiting for her collar.

My hands were shaking, holding his property.

Then the door locked behind me. Him.

He didn't even look at me. He looked at her.

"Miss Carter was curious about this room on Friday," he said calmly, unbuttoning his cuffs. "So she will stay. She will watch. She will learn what happens when you enter my world without permission."

I panicked. "Sir, I should go —"

"Stay." One word. Authoritative. Cold. "Or you are fired. Effective immediately. Your choice."

I froze. Leo's fees. Ethan. The rent.

I stayed.

What happened next was not love-making. It was ownership.

He didn't touch me. He showed me. How cold he could be. How controlled. How a man can break a woman with just his voice and presence. The red lights, the sound of the handcuffs clicking, the whips on the wall that he didn't even need to use because his dominance was enough.

The woman on the bed went from soft moans to whimpers to full begging. Begging for him to stop. Begging for him not to stop. It was too much. He didn't stop until he decided he was satisfied.

I was terrified. My legs were liquid. I was sweating, my face burning with shame because my body was reacting to something my mind said was wrong.

When he finally stood up, He was totally naked he looked straight at me — like I was the only one in the room.

Then he walked to the bathroom without a word.

I didn't run. I couldn't. My knees gave out and I had to hold the wall to leave and clear my head.

RYAN'S POV

The office bathroom was cold.

I locked myself in and slid to the floor. My legs were gone. Completely weak.

What did I just watch?

I wasn't supposed to like it. I was supposed to be disgusted. I am a married woman. I am a mother. Good girls don't watch things like that and feel their stomach drop like that.

But I did.

And I was terrified of him. Truly terrified. Not because he was cruel to her — she wanted it, she begged for it — but because he had that much control. Over her. Over the room. Over me. He told me to stay and I stayed. He told me to watch and I watched. Even though I wanted to run.

My husband has never looked at me like that. Like I am something to be owned. To be ruined.

My phone buzzed. Ethan: Where is the money for Leo's books?

The money. Right. That's why I stayed. That's why I watched.

I splashed water on my face. My lipstick was ruined. My eyes were red.

I opened the bathroom door —

And he was there. Leaning against the opposite wall. Shirt back on, but the top three buttons open. Sleeves rolled up. Watching me.

"Did you clear your head, Miss Carter?" he said quietly.

I couldn't answer. My knees were still shaking.

He stepped closer. Not touching me. Just close enough that I could smell him. Sweat and expensive cologne.

"You were scared," he whispered.

I nodded, looking down.

He lifted my chin. Same as Friday. Rough, gentle.

"Good," he said. "You should be scared of me. But tell me the truth — were you only scared?"

His grey eyes dropped to my lips. Then to my neck. My bare neck. Where that collar should have been.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't lie.

He smirked like he already knew the answer.

"Go home, Ryan. And tomorrow, don't wear lipstick. I want to see your real mouth when you beg."

He walked away, leaving me alone, legs weak, in the cold bathroom.

Oh, miserable me.

I dragged myself home. Just a few weeks in my dream company and I was already losing my mind.

I had mixed feelings. Watching him with another woman made me feel bad. Jealous. But why? He wasn't mine. Why should I be jealous?

And yet... it should have been me on that bed.

The taxi pulled over in front of my house , Getting to the door, I had to gather the courage to face my family because I felt guilty.Leo ran to me, telling me a thousand things at once. His small hands around my legs were the only real thing in my day.

Ethan came out from the kitchen, smiling, and planted a kiss on my forehead.

"You're late," he said.

I made dinner. Like a good wife. I stirred the pot but my mind was still in that red room. The handcuffs clicking. The woman begging.

I felt guilt. Was it guilt? Because judge me not — if Alexander asks me to bed right now, I will gladly say yes.

But does my husband deserve that? Does my home deserve to be destroyed?

I know the sex is not always how I want it. It's quick, it's cold, but it's still Ethan. My husband, I served dinner.

"I had a long day," I excused myself. "Sorry, I had dinner with some colleagues before coming back."

I hurried upstairs. I just wanted to sleep past this day. To forget his eyes. To forget how my knees went weak.

I lay down, closed my eyes —

And my phone rang.

ALEXANDER STERLING popping on my screen.

My heart stopped.

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