My brain’s trying to turn this into a case file. Make it logical. Manageable. Provable.
But there’s no case file for this. No evidence that would hold up in court.
“The fuck.”
It slips out before I can stop it.
Two words. Barely a whisper. But in the quiet of Dom’s office, they’re loud.
Five years of perfect professionalism. Five years of “yes sir” and measured tones and never breaking composure.
Gone.
And I can’t take it back. Can’t rewind. Can’t pretend I didn’t just show them exactly how much this is destroying me.
Marcus falters. Just for a second. That smile freezing.
Then he throws his head back and laughs. Actually laughs. Delighted.
“I like when you’re honest, Dylan.” His eyes bright. Predatory. “It’s refreshing.”
He likes that I broke. Likes that he got under my skin. Likes that he’s winning.
Dom claps his hands together. Sharp. Decisive.
“Then it’s settled.”
It is not settled. Nothing about this is settled.
“Dylan, you’ll meet with the designer now to be fitted.” Dom’s already moving on. Already decided. “And Friday night, you’ll accompany Marcus to the fundraiser.”
He pauses. Looks at me directly. That cold blue stare that sees everything.
“Do make connections.”
The order is clear. Be charming. Be beautiful. Be Marcus’s.
“That will be all.”
Dismissed.
I stand there for a second. Legs shaking. Throat closed. The ring burning so hot against my chest I can feel it through my shirt and bra, searing into my skin.
Friday. Three days from now. I have to go with Marcus to a black-tie fundraiser. Alone. In a dress he picked. Looking perfect for him. In front of donors and officials and everyone who matters in this city.
Building the narrative. Making it look real. Making it look like I want this.
And I can’t say no.
“See you Friday, Dylan.” Marcus’s voice follows me as I turn toward the door. “It’s going to be perfect.”
Not it will be nice. Not I hope you enjoy it.
It’s going to be perfect.
My stomach drops. That copper taste floods my mouth—the same taste from the stairwell, from the alley, from every moment my body has tried to warn me I’m in mortal danger.
A statement. A promise. A threat.
