"When you talk to Victorio today, remember that you're not the same woman who started working there over a year ago. You're stronger now. You're mine now. And no matter what happens, you're coming home to me."
His words stay with me as I shower and get ready. The black dress fits like a second skin, professional but sexy. Without panties, I'm hyper aware of every single movement, every brush of fabric against my skin. I know it's exactly what Santiago intended.
By the time I arrive at Season's offices downtown, I've managed to compartmentalize my nerves. I can do this. I need to do this.
"Violet!" Jessie practically launches herself at me as soon as I step off the elevator. "Oh my God, I was so worried about you. Are you okay? What happened? Holy shit, you look amazing."
I hug her back, grateful for her friendship. "I'm okay. Really. Just had some personal stuff to deal with."
She pulls back, studying my face. "You do look different. Good different. Like... confident different."
"A lot has happened," I admit. "But we can't talk about it here. Lunch today?"
"Absolutely. Oh, and heads up—everyone's been asking about you. Especially Victorio. He kept asking Jennifer when you'd be back."
My stomach flips. "Really?"
"Yeah. I think he's got some big project he wants you to lead. You've been making quite the impression."
I settle back into my workspace, catching up on emails and reviewing the social media campaigns that ran while I was away. Everything seems to have run smoothly in my absence, which is both relieving and slightly concerning.
Around ten, my phone buzzes with a text from Santiago:
How's my good girl doing?
I glance around to make sure no one's watching before typing back:
Thinking about what you made me do this morning.
It's not even a minute before he's responded back.
Good. Remember who you belong to.
The exchange leaves me flushed and distracted. I force myself to focus on work, diving into analytics reports and planning content for the rest of the week.
Just before lunch, Clarise from Victorio's office appears at my desk. "Hi Violet. Mr. Ramirez would like to see you in his office when you have a moment."
My heart starts pounding. "Did he say what about?"
"Just that he wanted to welcome you back and discuss some upcoming projects."
I take a deep breath, checking my appearance in my phone's camera. My makeup is perfect, covering any trace of what happened last week. I look professional, put-together, confident.
Icando this.
Victorio's office is on the top floor, all glass and steel with a stunning view of the city. He's standing by the windows when I knock on the open door.
"Violet, come in. Close the door behind you."
I do as he asks, my palms slightly damp as I approach his desk. "You wanted to see me?"
He turns, and for a moment I just study his face, looking for any resemblance to my own. He's in his late forties, with salt-and-pepper hair and kind brown eyes. His skin is olive-toned, like mine, and there's something about the shape of his nose that reminds me of looking in the mirror.
"First, I wanted to make sure you're okay," he says, gesturing for me to sit. "Jennifer mentioned you had a family emergency."
"I'm fine now, thank you. Ready to get back to work."
"Good. Because I have something I wanted to discuss with you." He sits behind his desk, pulling out a folder. "Your work over the past year has been exceptional. The social media campaigns you've developed have significantly increased our engagement in addition to our overall brand recognition."
