the evening. The conversation with Stallion, his touch on her shoulder,the foot massage ,

e, and that had led to years of heartache, pain, and betrayal. How could she possibly trust Stallion now, even if

r him. She couldn't

, when he touched her even slightly, she dripped wet. It had been

She longed to feel like a woman again. And he

ed her out –yet. He wouldn't stoop so low. Whatever

he city lights below, her phone buzzed on the coffee

You deserve it after all the hard work! Ju

or her old life – before all of this had started. Before Stal

e popped up – this time

inking about you. Let's tal

from St

omorrow. The message was simple enough

he was somehow out of place. She had never been surrounded by so muc

there was

e way he looked at her when they were alone – like she was something more than just an employee. S

ll so co

oken. She wasn't ready to put herself back out ther

w she wasn't ready to be in any relationship wit

strictly p

r phone rang. It was Stallion. Perhaps he want

open up," he said as soon

r and shoulder when she opened the

ck? What co

thing?" She aske

s fire in his eyes. Hi

n't let her finish befo

t she needed him too. She had l

and down below. He laid her on the couch, undressed her and dipped his finger inside of her. She cried in ec

?" He asked, confused, because he

d he entered her and rocked her slowly. She moaned softly but

self to a new coat when winter came, had become so different. Now, her daily surroundings had transformed to marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and a view that

clothes she wore felt like costumes – beautiful, but foreign. Ava had been hired by Stallion to help manage his life, an intimidating and unpredictable job, but she was determin

able. At first, she saw him as the model employer – kind but professional, willing to give her the guidance she need

ly happened. She wondered if he saw her as vulnerable or cheap. She didn't want to regret that moment, becau

d in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. And she had to admit, there was a magnetism about him. His confidence, the way he carried himself, the way he looked at her. There was something in his eyes that made her pulse quicken. Yet,

felt so personal, so intimate, that she found herself opening up in ways she hadn't anticipated. She felt her guard slipping, little by little, a

self a glass of whiskey and offered her one, which she politely declined. He didn't seem to mind and settled

low and thoughtful, "you're no

eks warm under h

th, maybe. A determination." His eyes met

ad ever spoken to her like this. She felt exposed, as if he c

don't know if I tell you often enough, but I'm grateful for everyth

rtow. She'd been swept up before, only to find herself broken and alone on the other side. She wanted to just keep things s

oft, barely above a whisper. She was going extra to

, call me Stallio

d though she tried to focus on the papers in front of her, her mind was racing. What did he see when h

rs were warm against hers, sending a shiver down her spine. She looked up, meeting his gaze, a

"you know you don't hav

and she didn't know how to respond. Part of her wanted to stay, to see what would happ

go," she stammered, h

, but he nodded, releasing her hand. "Of cou

h her emotions were a storm wit

ied, his gaze lingering o

e couldn't deny the pull she felt toward him. She had been hurt before, and s

elf. The memory of his touch, his words, his gaze – she couldn't shake them. And she knew

t thought crossed her mind, lingerin

ven the man he appeared t

ng something? The way he looked at her, the way he spoke, it was all too intense, too consuming. And as much as s

o sleep was a question that left her unea

wasn't even what