Darker.
This wasn't about punishment anymore.
It was about possession so complete she'd forget she ever existed without me.
My phone buzzed in the cupholder.
A notification from the security system.
Belle's car had just pulled into the driveway.
Six minutes early.
I smiled despite myself.
Obedience wrapped in fury. Exactly what I'd trained her for without her even realizing it yet.
I walked through the front door expecting silence.
The calm emptiness I'd grown used to over the years—the kind that filled expensive spaces when no one else lived in them.
Instead, I got a scorned woman.
Belle stood in the foyer. Arms crossed tight enough to bruise. Face flushed with color I recognized immediately. Eyes blazing with something I'd spent two days cultivating without her permission.
She didn't wait for me to set down my bag. Didn't let me close the door.
"What the hell is happening to my store?!"
The words hit like a slap shot—fast, direct, meant to hurt.
I inhaled sharply.
Fury looked good on her.
So did courage.
Better than I'd imagined, and I'd imagined it plenty.
She strode toward me, closing the distance between us with jerky, furious steps. Pointed a shaking finger in my direction like she might actually strike.
"You didn't ask. You didn't tell me. You just—just ordered people into my shop! I came in today and everything was torn apart!"
Her voice cracked on the last word. Not from weakness. From betrayal.
That was what burned in her eyes—not just anger, but violation. The feeling of something sacred being touched without permission.
I understood that more than she'd ever know.
I stepped closer.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Uncertain in no way whatsoever.
"You want to work." My voice came out calm. Steady. Infuriatingly reasonable. "So your shop should be the best."
