NATALIE'S POV
Vivienne Lange.
Adrian's ex. The woman who's been stalking me, threatening me, watching my every move.
I have forty-five minutes to meet her. Forty-five minutes to figure out what she wants and how to stop her from destroying everything.
But my mind keeps dragging me back to three months ago. To the first night I walked into Adrian's penthouse. The night I discovered who I really was beneath all the lies.
The night everything changed.
THREE MONTHS AGO - THE FIRST NIGHT
I stood in Adrian's penthouse, my heart racing so fast I thought it might explode.
The space was huge—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, modern furniture, everything expensive and perfect. But I barely noticed any of it.
All I could focus on was the locked door at the end of the hallway.
"That's the room," Adrian said quietly behind me. "But we're not going there tonight."
I turned to face him. "We're not?"
"No. Tonight is just about talking. About making sure you understand what you've agreed to." He gestured to the couch. "Sit. Please."
I sat, and he sat across from me—not next to me, giving me space.
"First rule," he said. "You can leave at any time. The door is never locked from the outside. You have complete freedom to walk away whenever you want."
"Okay."
"Second rule: we establish safe words. A word you can say that immediately stops everything. No questions, no judgment, just immediate stop."
My mouth felt dry. "What word?"
"You choose. Something you wouldn't normally say during... intimate moments. Something clear and specific."
I thought for a moment. "Red. Like a stop light."
"Red works perfectly. If you say red, everything stops instantly." He leaned forward slightly. "You also need a slow-down word. Something that means 'this is getting intense but I'm okay, just need a moment.'"
"Yellow?"
"Good. Red means stop completely. Yellow means pause and check in. Green means everything is fine, keep going." His gray eyes held mine. "Can you remember that?"
"Yes."
"Tell me."
"Red is stop. Yellow is slow down. Green is good."
"Perfect." He pulled out a notebook. "Now we talk about limits. Things you absolutely won't do. Things you might be willing to try. Things you're curious about."
For the next hour, we talked. Really talked. About boundaries and fears and desires I'd never admitted to anyone.
Adrian was patient. Kind. He never pushed. Never judged. Just listened and took notes.
"You're scared of being vulnerable," he observed at one point.
"Yes."
"Why?"
I swallowed hard. "Because everyone I've ever been vulnerable with has left. My father abandoned me. My mother died. Being vulnerable means getting hurt."
"Not here," Adrian said firmly. "In this space, vulnerability is strength. Trust is sacred. I will never punish you for being honest with me."
Tears burned my eyes. "How can you promise that?"
"Because I understand what it's like to be betrayed. To have your trust shattered." Something dark crossed his face. "I would never do that to someone who surrendered their defenses to me. Never."
The guilt hit me like a punch. He was promising not to betray me while I was actively betraying him.
But I couldn't stop now. I was in too deep.
"Are you ready to see the room?" Adrian asked.
My heart jumped. "Yes."
He stood and held out his hand. I took it, and he led me down the hallway to the locked door.
He pulled out a key and unlocked it. Then he handed the key to me.
"This is yours now. You can come and go as you please. The room is as much yours as mine."
I took the key with shaking fingers.
Adrian opened the door.
The room was simpler than I expected. Soft lighting. A comfortable bed. Some furniture I didn't quite understand yet. Everything clean and organized.
"This is where we'll explore," Adrian said. "Where you'll learn what you're capable of. Where you'll discover parts of yourself you've kept hidden."
He turned to face me.
"Tonight, I'm going to teach you the basics. How to kneel. How to address me in this space. How to recognize when a scene is beginning and ending." He paused. "Nothing frightening. Nothing painful. Just the foundation. Is that acceptable?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
I understood. "Yes, sir."
A small smile touched his lips. "Good girl."
Those words again. They made warmth spread through my entire body.
For the next two hours, Adrian taught me. How to kneel properly. How to keep my eyes down when he commanded it. How to breathe through moments of uncertainty.
He was firm but gentle. Demanding but patient. Every instruction was clear. Every boundary was respected.
And something incredible happened.
As I followed his commands, as I surrendered control, the weight I'd been carrying for months started to lift. The grief, the stress, the constant fear—all of it faded into the background.
For the first time since Mom died, I felt free.
"How do you feel?" Adrian asked toward the end of the night.
I knelt before him, my hands resting on my thighs like he'd taught me.
"Light," I whispered. "Like I can finally breathe."
"That's what this is supposed to feel like. Not trapped. Not controlled. Free." He reached down and gently lifted my chin so I'd look at him. "You did beautifully tonight, Natalie. I'm proud of you."
Pride. When was the last time someone said they were proud of me?
Tears slipped down my cheeks.
Adrian pulled me to my feet and held me while I cried. Not as my dominant. Just as a man comforting someone who needed it.
"Thank you," I whispered against his chest.
"You never have to thank me for this. It's not a favor. It's an exchange. You give me your trust. I give you my protection."
I wanted so badly for that to be true. For this to be real.
But it was all built on lies.
When I finally left his penthouse that night, I felt like two different people. The woman who'd discovered something beautiful. And the woman who was going to destroy the man who'd given it to her.
PRESENT
My phone buzzes. A text from Vivienne.
VIVIENNE: Thirty minutes. I'm already at the café. I'll be the woman in the corner wearing red. Don't make me wait, or Adrian gets a very interesting email about his precious assistant.
I stare at the message, then at the locked door of Adrian's office behind me.
He's in there right now, thinking I'm trustworthy. Thinking my father is dead. Thinking our contract means something real.
If Vivienne tells him the truth, I lose everything. My job. My chance to clear my name. And worst of all—I lose him.
But if I go meet her, what will she demand? What price will she make me pay to keep my secrets?
I take a step toward the elevator, then stop.
My phone rings. Adrian's private line.
"Ms. Cross, come to my office. Now. We
need to talk about something urgent."
My blood turns to ice.
Does he already know?