My hands tighten on the laptop edges.
They talk.
He's leaning in. Flirting. Touching her arm, her shoulder. She's stiff. Reserved. Taking drinks of wine too fast. Not pulling away but not leaning in either. Going through the motions.
He moves closer. Tucks her hair behind her ear. Fingers lingering.
My vision narrows.
She pulls back slightly. He follows.
In the corner of the screen, the shadows thicken. Shift. Her ghosts reacting to the intrusion. He doesn't see them. Too focused on her.
His hand slides to her shoulder. Massages. "When's the last time someone took care of you?"
Practiced line. Smooth. Makes me want to rip his fucking tongue out.
She doesn't answer. Just sits there like she's forgotten how to say no.
His hands work her shoulders. She's tense. Uncomfortable. He leans in. Kisses her neck.
No. No.
His hands slide down. To her waist. Under her robe.
Every muscle in my body coils tight. My hands start trembling against the laptop.
"Boss," Yuri says quietly. "You want me to—"
"No." The word comes out sharp. Final. "I need to see what she does."
On screen, Oliver's hand moves to her thigh. Slides higher. Under the fabric.
She's not stopping him. Not pulling away. Just sitting there, letting it happen.
"Boss—" Yuri tries again.
"I SAID NO!" I roar.
Viktor glances in the rearview mirror. Sees my face. Says nothing. Smart man.
Oliver's hand disappears under her robe completely. Between her legs.
My hands shake harder. The laptop rattles on my knees. I lean closer to the screen, every nerve screaming, rage building like a bomb about to detonate.
He leans in. Kisses her.
And she—she kisses back.
What the fuck.
My heart stops. Vision tunnels. Everything in me screams to kick the door in, to drag him out by his throat, to break every bone in his hand that's touching her.
But I force myself to look. Really look.
It's wrong. All wrong. I know what she looks like when she wants something. When she's truly present. When pleasure is real and not performance. This isn't that. This is going through the motions. This is faking. This is her body there but her mind somewhere else—probably two years in the past, with me, in that bed where I claimed her and promised forever without saying the words.
His hand moves under her panties. Fingers sliding between her legs.
