Three hours. Three fucking hours since I left her room, and I can still feel her lips, still hear that innocent question: "How was that for a first attempt?" Like she hadn't just blown my mind the second she took me in her mouth along with everything else.
The cold shower didn’t help, or the business reports I'm pretending to read, or the distance I've put between myself and the woman who's systematically destroying me.
She played me.
Completely.
Turned what was supposed to be clinical training into something that felt like...
Like what? Like she wanted me?
Christ. I'm losing my fucking mind.
My phone buzzes. Matteo again.
"What?"
"Boss, we need to finalize the viewing arrangements. Kozlov's assistant called three times today, and Al-Rashid's people are pushing for specific details."
"Handle it."
"I need your input on format. Do you want them here separately or together? What kind of interaction are we allowing? How much access—"
"I said handle it."
"Sir, these are decisions that require your approval. We're talking about fifteen million euros minimum. Maybe more if they get into a bidding war during the viewing itself."
“No, we’re not fucking talking about fifteen million because the auction will never happen. Tonight, I’ll allow her to call both families and plead her case. Now that she knows exactly what’s about to happen, she’ll be able to convince Alessandro and her father to pay up.”
"What do you want me to do in the meantime?”
"Set up separate viewings. One hour each. Neutral conversation, basic assessment. No physical contact."
"Kozlov specifically requested demonstration of her training. He wants to see evidence of her... conditioning."
My grip tightens on the phone. "What the fuck is he asking for now?"
"Obedience commands, positioning, maybe some submission techniques. Nothing extreme, just proof that she's been properly prepared."
"Fuck, no."
"Sir?"
"No demonstrations. They can look, they can make small talk with her, that's it."
"But boss, they're expecting—"
"I don’t give a shit what these assholes are expecting. They’re coming to evaluate a potential purchase. They can do that without putting their hands on her."
"Kozlov might not be satisfied with just conversation."
"Then Kozlov can take his money elsewhere and fuck off."
"I'll see what we can arrange," Matteo says carefully. "Maybe a compromise. Verbal commands only, no physical contact."
"Fine. Set it up."
I hang up before he can ask any more questions I can't answer rationally.
