Then I stepped back. Gave her room. Let her breathe.
"Get settled." I nodded toward her bag, still sitting where I'd left it. "We have dinner in an hour."
"I'm not hungry."
"I don't care."
The words dropped between us like stones.
She turned, mouth already opening with some sharp retort I wasn't going to let her finish.
I dropped my hand from her wrist.
Just let my presence do the work.
Let her feel the difference in size, in reach, in the simple physics of what I could do if I decided to.
My voice dropped.
Low.
Controlled.
Certain.
"I can make you scream my name in pleasure, Belle." I watched her pupils dilate despite the fury tightening her jaw. "Can take you apart so slowly, so thoroughly, that you forget why you're supposed to hate me."
Her breathing changed.
Shallow. Quick.
"Or—" I leaned in, close enough that my words ghosted across her face. "I can punish your defiance. Every time you refuse. Every time you disobey. Edge you until you see fucking stars. Until you understand that this—" I gestured between us. "—isn't a negotiation."
She swallowed hard.
"Either way, Belle, you will break."
The certainty in my voice wasn't cruelty.
It was inevitability.
Simple math she hadn't learned to calculate yet.
Six months was a long time to fight someone who had nothing but patience and control.
Someone who'd already won before she signed her name.
I let the silence stretch, let her mind race through possibilities she didn't want to imagine but couldn't stop from forming.
Then I delivered the blow that would follow her to dinner, to bed, to every moment between now and the end of this contract.
"You'll beg."
Her eyes widened. Not fear. Something worse. Recognition that I meant every word.
"For release. Or forgiveness. The choice is yours."
I stepped back. Gave her room to breathe. Room to pretend she still had options.
