4
Eva.
An email came in at noon: Dinner meeting tonight. 7PM sharp. Wear red. —JH
I stared at the screen, my heart thudding. I had no idea if this was part of my job or just another way for him to remind me that I belonged to him. There was no subject line, no details, just the time and a command.
I spent my whole afternoon in a fog, running my tongue over my lips, thinking about last night in the elevator—the way he hadn’t let me look away, how my legs had trembled all day from the memory. I barely got any work done. Every time I glanced up, Julian was there, perfectly composed, running the company like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t taken me apart and put me back together three different ways since Monday.
By five, I was in the bathroom, fixing my hair, smoothing my dress. Red, li
