Page 46 of Suite 7

I press send before I can change my mind again.

Then I put the phone face-down on the counter and stare at the wall.

Thirty seconds.

The phone buzzes.

I flip it over.

Kane: Good girl for asking properly. My penthouse, seven PM tonight. Wear something comfortable you can remove easily. Bring questions, we’ll negotiate everything before any scene. Come prepared to discuss limits, frequency, discretion, and expectations. Don’t be late.

Kane: P.S. I called Morrison's Auto. Your appointment is confirmed for ten in the morning. Don't skip it.

I read it twice.

He made an appointment for my car. Before I’d even sent this message. Before I’d said yes to any of this in daylight, in plain language, with full information.

I set the phone down and stand there for a moment.

Then I pick it back up.

Me: Yes, Sir. I’ll be there.

Me: Both places.

I send it. Then immediately send the follow-up before I can stop myself:

Me: Just to be clear, this means I don’t get to scene with other Doms at Eclipse, right? Asking for a friend.

His response takes about fifteen seconds.

Kane: If you scene with anyone else, I’ll spend an entire session making sure you remember exactly who you belong to. Clear enough?

I stare at my phone.

Me: Crystal. Worth asking though.

Kane: Careful. I’m keeping track of the bratty behavior. It all gets addressed tonight.

Me: Looking forward to it, Sir.

Kane: I’m certain you are. Seven PM. Don’t be late.

I set the phone down and stand in my kitchen in my pajamas, grinning at the wall like an idiot.

Seven PM.

I have twelve hours to figure out what on earth I’m going to wear.

Kane

* * *

I’ve read the message eleven times.

Vera: I consent to an ongoing arrangement on your terms. Please tell me what you require of me.

She rewrote this. Multiple times, I can see it in the almost-stiffness of the phrasing, the considered language of someone who talks in quick sharp sentences and has made herself slow down and mean every word.