“Pia.”
My name isn’t a name in his mouth.
It’s a warning.A plea.A confession he didn’t mean to make.
I shouldn’t like that.
But I do.
More than I should. More than is safe. More than is smart.
Heat coils low, wicked and traitorous.
He steps closer.
I don’t retreat.
“The coordinator told me your name - Pia.”
“It means devout. Someone dedicated to religion and virtue”
“Is that what you stand for………Pia?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Stay where you belong,” he repeats, lower now, almost rasped.
“And where’s that?” I ask softly.
His eyes lock onto mine.
I am not a priest.Not a son.Not an heir.
Predator.
His chest rises once, sharply. When he speaks again, his voice is strained—like he already knows he’s losing this battle.
“Not in that corridor.”
I smile.
Soft. Innocent. Deadly.
“I’ll try harder,” I murmur.
My fingertips brush the table again—barely touching the wood, but close enough that his breath stutters a second time.
He closes his eyes for the briefest second.
A flicker of defeat.A flicker of hunger.A flicker of the exact weakness I came here to exploit.
I gather the papers in my hands, give him one last gentle smile, and step away—
Slow. Sweet. Obedient.
But every step feels like I’m pulling a thread inside him.
A thread ready to snap.
