Anya I shut the door behind me, hearing the ominous click as it locks from the outside. This isn’t just a room; it’s a well-decorated cage, and the weight of my reality settles in like an iron shroud. Slowly, I walk to the bathroom, each step dragging heavier than the last. The reflection in the mirror catches me off guard—a stranger with haggard eyes and a face drained of color. Who is this woman who thought she could outsmart a man like Bastien, who’s made a career, maybe even a life, out of being three steps ahead of everyone else? I turn the shower knob, letting the water heat up as steam fills the room, clouding the mirror and mercifully blurring my reflection. Stripping down, I step into the shower, the hot water hitting my skin like tiny, stinging slaps. I welcome the discomfort, the heat—anything to feel something other than this suffocating despair. The water hits my skin, searing and yet numbing, as if each droplet is both a balm and an acid. My body cringes at first,
AnyaI wake up to the ring of an alarm, a jarring sound that shatters the remnants of a restless sleep. For a second, I forget—forget where I am, why I’m here, and the cage I’ve locked myself into. But reality rushes back in like a flood, washing away the ignorance of sleep with a slap of cold truth. Today, I still have to be Anya the switchboard operator, not the fool who tried to run away.I drag myself out of bed, each movement tinged with a sense of dread. The events of the previous night loop in my mind like a reel, each moment sharp and vivid. The rush of escaping, the sudden stop of the SUV, and Bastien—his cold eyes, his cruel smirk, as if saying “Did you really think you could escape me?”I manage to dress, choosing a simple blouse and slacks. Nothing too flashy, nothing that screams ‘look at me.’ The last thing I want right now is attention, especially from Bastien.Heading to the kitchen, I try to shake off the remnants of dread that followed me into my dreams last night.
BastienI’m sitting here at my desk, staring at the screen that refuses to hold my attention. My thoughts keep drifting to her. Anya—or whatever the hell her real name is. She’s over there, plugged into that switchboard like some kind of machine, but I can see the tremble in her hands, sense the tension radiating off her. I’d have to be blind not to.She’s scared, and the dark part of me relishes it. She should be scared. She lied to me. But another part of me, a part I’m not all that fucking comfortable with, asks what I really expected. She found herself in a goddamn auction, for Christ’s sake. Lying probably seemed like the least of the evils she had to consider.I swivel my chair slightly, watching her closely as she picks up another call. Her voice shakes for a split second before she regains composure, handing the call with a professionalism that almost makes me proud. Almost.She’s efficient, I’ll give her that. The way she’s handling the calls, you’d think she’d been doing i
AnyaThe sunshine streaming through my windows hints at a world outside that I used to be a part of.But today is different. It’s my first day off, and I decide to spend it by the pool. The sun is out, the sky a crystal-clear blue as if trying to mock the murkiness clouding my thoughts. I walk out onto the penthouse deck, sliding the glass door shut behind me with a soft click.I make my way to the pool deck, ignoring the ever-watchful eyes of the guards positioned strategically around the area. They barely glance my way, their expressions unreadable but their presence as heavy as a chain. The sun beats down on the gleaming pool surface, turning the water into an inviting, shimmering blue. I lay down my towel on a chaise lounge, feeling the warm sun immediately start to sear my skin through the fabric of my swimsuit. For a moment, I close my eyes and let myself drift. The sun, the sky, the water—it’s almost enough to make me forget, almost enough to lull me into a false sense of free
BastienI walk back into the penthouse, each step heavy with the weight of unspoken tension. Fuck, why is this so damn complicated? The open sky and shimmering pool outside had presented a backdrop against which, for a fleeting moment, I felt something slip through my iron grasp. Control.Why am I rattled? I’m not a man easily disturbed, least of all by a woman. I’ve seen beauty in countless forms and faced down men who would kill without a second thought. But Anya... there’s something about her that pierces through the armor I’ve built over the years. The way she looked at me today, like she was seeing me for the first time, got under my skin in a way I didn’t expect.This isn’t my first time navigating power dynamics; I know the rules of the game. I’m the Alpha who owns this city—control is my birthright, my language.The thing about dominance is, it’s only as potent as the submission it evokes. And something about Anya calls to that part of me, resonates on a frequency I’ve never
AnyaMy fingers tremble as I push away from the table, still reeling from the tension that clung to the air like an invisible fog. “Thank you for dinner,” I manage to say, my voice betraying a vulnerability I can’t afford to show.“You’re welcome, Anya,” Bastien replies, his voice a calm counterpoint to my internal turmoil.I’m almost at the door when he adds, “Remember, tomorrow at seven.”“Yes, Alpha,” the words slip out before I can think, and I swear I feel the atmosphere in the room shift, as if something significant yet indiscernible has just occurred.Shaking off the heavy aura that surrounds me, I hurry down the corridor to my room, my steps faltering the closer I get. As soon as I cross the threshold, I shut the door behind me and press my back against it. My heart pounds in my chest like a caged bird desperate for release. I close my eyes for a moment, letting out a shaky breath.A bath, I decide, turning towards the bathroom. It’s a desperate attempt to regain some semblanc
BastienThe tension in the room is like a beast in a cage, pacing restlessly, waiting for a moment of weakness to break free.Dinner has been a battle of wits and wills, a tension I can almost taste. It’s electric, a live wire connecting Anya and me, and I’m restless, itching for something I can’t quite place. I watch her squirm in her seat, her movements betraying an internal struggle that resonates with my own unsettled state of mind. The full moon is near, its gravitational pull tugging at the very core of my being, making me feel more unhinged than usual.The restless thoughts in my mind are winning, and it’s both exhilarating and maddening. I need to push. To probe. To understand what the hell is happening here between us.She squirms in her seat again, biting her lower lip as if debating whether to flee or to stay. What the hell is it about this woman that makes me feel like I’m teetering on the edge? It’s like I’m at war with myself, torn between the urge to protect her and th
AnyaI make my way to the kitchen, my steps lighter than they’ve been in days. Despite the odd tension at last night’s dinner, I find myself strangely at ease this morning. The penthouse is silent, and for the first time since I got here, I feel like I can breathe. I scoop coffee grounds into the machine, press the button, and the aroma fills the room. Last night’s dinner plays like a surreal montage in my head, punctuated by Bastien’s penetrating gaze and that unnerving yet electrifying moment on my knees beside him. I can’t make sense of it, of him, of how he’s affecting me. A flutter of something—nervousness, excitement, or perhaps even fear—courses through me, leaving me unsettled.The phrase plays over and over in my head as the coffee brews. There was something in his tone, an unspoken weight, that I can’t shake off. I’ve never been one to seek approval, but the warmth that spread through me at his words was as disconcerting as it was pleasurable.My musings are interrupted by