The question was gentle. It cracked something in her.
She stepped into the office. Let the door close behind her. Her hands were shaking. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked at the floor.
"He can't..." She swallowed. The words felt like glass in her throat. "He cannot get an erection. It's been two weeks. He's getting worse. He won't let me touch him. He won't look at me. I don't know what to do anymore."
The admission hung in the air. Sofia, still lying on the desk, turned her head and looked at Yuki with an expression that might have been sympathy or might have been nothing at all.
Viktor nodded slowly. His expression didn't change—no surprise, no discomfort, no judgment. Just the measured calm of a man who'd heard worse and knew exactly what to do with it.
"I see," he said. "Come here."
Yuki crossed the room. Her steps were small. Uncertain. She stopped a few feet from the desk, close enough that the candle's warmth touched her skin.
