CHAPTER FIVE

I followed him.

That was the first thing that terrified me.

Not the contract.

Not the money.

Not even the idea of sleeping under the same roof as Grayson Knight.

It was the fact that when he turned and walked out of the office, I stood up without being told and went after him.

The elevator ride was silent.

He didn’t look at me. Didn’t speak. Just stood there, hands in his pockets, calm like my entire life hadn’t just collapsed into his palm.

I stared at the mirrored wall instead, barely recognizing myself. Red eyes. Pale face. A man who had agreed to sell parts of himself he hadn’t even named yet.

The doors opened onto the underground parking garage.

A black car waited.

“Get in,” he said.

I hesitated for half a second just long enough for him to notice.

“If you’re expecting reassurance,” he added coolly, “you won’t get it from me.”

“I’m not,” I said quickly, and got in.

The ride was smooth. The kind of quiet that makes your thoughts louder.

I kept waiting for him to touch me.

He didn’t.

Not when the car stopped.

Not when we entered the building.

Not when we stepped into an elevator that shot up faster than my heartbeat.

His penthouse was… obscene.

Glass walls. City lights. Space that swallowed sound and left you feeling small inside it.

“This is where you’ll stay,” he said, tossing his keys onto the counter.

I stood near the entrance, unsure where to put myself. Every instinct told me to keep my distance. Every nerve screamed awareness.

“Rules,” he continued, loosening his cuffs. “You’ll learn them. Tonight is simple.”

I swallowed. “Simple how?”

“You eat. You shower. You sleep.”

That wasn’t what I expected.

I frowned. “And… the rest?”

He turned to look at me then. Really look.

“The rest,” he said evenly, “doesn’t happen because you’re desperate.”

My heart started beating fast.

“You agreed to a deal,” he went on. “Not to be used like a stray dragged in from the rain.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that.

“You’ll have your own room,” he said, pointing down the hall. “Bathroom included. Clothes will be delivered tomorrow.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “You’re not ”

“No,” he interrupted. “I’m not.”

Something dangerous flickered in his eyes. “Don’t mistake restraint for disinterest, Leo.”

Heat crawled up my neck.

“I’m not confused,” I said defensively.

“You are,” he replied calmly. “You just don’t know what to do yet.”

Dinner arrived without me ordering it. I ate mechanically, aware of him across the table, watching without staring.

Every time our eyes met, something coiled tighter inside me.

Afterward, he gestured down the hall again. “Get some rest.”

I nodded and turned 

“Leo.”

I stopped.

“If you change your mind,” he said quietly, “my door is there.”

He didn’t say what.

He didn’t need to.

In my room, I showered longer than necessary, trying to wash off the day, the fear, the strange awareness of being wanted without being touched.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling.

This wasn’t what I imagined selling myself would feel like.

It felt… worse.

Because he was patient.

A knock sounded sometime later.

My heart slammed.

I opened the door slowly.

Grayson stood there, sleeves rolled up again, hair slightly undone. Not predatory. Not smiling.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “You?”

I shook my head.

Silence stretched.

He stepped closer not into my space, but near enough that I could feel him.

“This is where people usually beg,” he murmured. “Or push. Or panic.”

“And me?” I asked softly.

“You’re standing still,” he said. “That’s interesting.”

His fingers lifted.

Hovered.

Didn’t touch.

Every nerve in my body screamed at that inch of air between us.

“Go to sleep, Leo,” he said quietly, lowering his hand. “Tomorrow… we start.”

He turned and walked away.