Chapter 4: Monday morning revelation

The persistent buzzing of her phone dragged Vera reluctantly from a deep, satisfying sleep.

She managed to slap the snooze button, but the phone rang again immediately. Squinting at the screen through the pre-dawn gloom, she saw it was her best friend, Kate, calling her up at 9:00 a.m. on a Monday.

Vera usually ignored the world until noon if her college classes were later in the day. Kate knew this, so Vera wondered what emergency could possibly warrant this early intrusion.

With a groan of annoyance, she answered. “What in the hell is so important?” Her voice was thick with sleep.

“Don’t tell me you are still in bed, Vera,” Kate's calm, yet accusatory voice sounded over the phone.

“Okay, I will not,” Vera responded sleepily.

Kate heaved a dramatically frustrated sigh before reminding her. “Vera, your appointment with the new behavioral therapist is today by Ten o'clock.”

Sleep instantly vanished from Vera’s eyes.

Those words woke her up. “Oh shit.” She shot up from her bed, putting her friend on speaker as she scrambled to the bathroom, grabbed her toothbrush, and brushed her teeth.

“Did you really forget? This is supposed to be the big day! The day we finally get some control over this... situation.” Kate continued.

Vera’s mind immediately flared, a defiant heat rising at the mention of control. Did she really need to get help? Her "situation" had led her to an intensely thrilling night with Elias on Saturday. Getting help might mean she would have to police herself, to deny the part of her Elias clearly relished. She was sure one major step would be to cut ties with partners who indulged her intense desires.

“Are you listening to me, Vera?” Kate pulled her out of her reverie. “You do not have to be scared. You can get better. All you need to do is make it to the appointment today. One step at a time.”

Listening to Kate root for her was tiresome. As much as Vera knew her friend meant well, she was not so sure she wanted to be helped at this point.

Everyone at school already knew about her reputation; her high sexual drive had no boundaries. She would gladly fuck any guy who showed even a little interest in her—a habit that felt less like a problem and more like a powerful, exciting truth after her encounter in the pub stall.

Vera rinsed her mouth and returned the brush. “I will give it my best shot, Kate. Or you will not let me hear the end of it. Now I have to go get ready.” she said, stripping out of her silk pajamas.

“Alright. I will keep in touch,” Kate said and hung up.

Vera zoomed in and out of the shower. While she towelled her body, a maid called from her bedroom. “Breakfast is served, ma’am. Your father awaits you in the sunroom.” she informed her.

Vera stepped out of the bathroom just as the maid opened the door to leave. “Do inform him that I am leaving for an early study session and will not be able to make it to breakfast.”

“Yes, ma’am. Will you be home for dinner?” The maid inquired while Vera scouted her wardrobe for something aggressively appealing—a look that silently challenged any notion of control.

“I will let you know later,” was Vera’s response, and she heard the familiar click of her door as the maid exited.

Vera opted for a black cashmere sweater that hung low, almost slipping off one shoulder, a black mini-leather skirt with matching sheer leggings, and black stiletto heels. Donning light makeup and her favorite silver choker, she raked a hand down her auburn hair and picked a white clutch. It was 9:20 when she marched out of her room to the garage.

The valet held the door to her car as she got in and handed her the keys. Quickly pressing the button, Vera smiled smugly as the Ferrari’s engine roared to life.

Then, she sped out of the compound onto the highway, hoping that the city’s morning traffic was not too restrictive today.

Vera soon arrived at the clinic and briskly walked to the receptionist, who smiled on seeing her, and Vera returned the gesture with a tight, professional smile.

“Good morning, ma’am. What can I do for you today?” she asked.

“I have an appointment for Ten o'clock,” Vera responded.

The receptionist checked her watch.

“Lucky you. You almost missed it. Your name, please?”

“Vera Lancaster.” She mouthed the name as she typed into her system.

“Okay. Your therapist will see you now.

The third floor, third door on the right.” She pointed to a wide hallway.

Vera expressed her gratitude and hurried down the hall to the elevator. She clicked on the floor and tapped her foot as she waited patiently. She needed to approach this with the right attitude, she decided, determined not to let anyone define or tame her.

The doors dinged open. She took her right and knocked on the third door. Not waiting for a response, she pushed it open and walked in. The office was moderately sized and tastefully furnished in shades of white and slate.

Several catalogues on topics about sexual health and impulse control lined the walls. On the shelf were different books as well as various clinical models of anatomy.

Vera felt a brief flash of heat at the sight and directed her eyes to the man in the room.

The man behind the desk was intently studying a folder before him, his focus absolute. His brown curls reminded her of a certain powerful man, and Vera immediately tucked the image away. She was here to get help, and that was what she would do.

“Good morning, doctor.” Vera greeted, going further to take the plush leather seat across the desk.

She was, however, not prepared for the seismic shock awaiting her as the man raised his head to look her in the face.

Her therapist was none other than Elias Thornes.

Elias’s electric blue eyes—the same ones that had watched her climax in the pub—met hers over the polished mahogany desk. He leaned back slightly, a faint, predatory smirk playing on his lips, the kind that promised she was still very much his prey. He snapped the folder shut, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

"Miss Lancaster," he drawled, his voice dropping to that familiar, husky baritone, "Please tell me: Why are you here to see me about your lack of 'boundaries,' when clearly, you just love being commanded?"