Edward Corvin woke before dawn, the strange weight in his chest still lingering like a shadow.
A dull ache.
A whisper of wrongness he couldn't shake.
He left the house quietly, kissed Elena and the children without thought, and made his way to work.
The day stretched long and grey, filled with the clatter of tools and the scent of oil.
His hands worked automatically, muscles moving with the precision of habit, but his mind wandered…
That feeling gnawed at him, as if something unseen had rooted itself inside his chest.
When the pain in his fingers grew sharp, he set them down and reached for his coffee.
Steam rose from the cup, fragile in the morning air.
That's when Joslyne appeared.
The boss's wife.
A woman as distant as winter, known for her icy demeanor and sharp words.
Always aloof. Always disconnected.
Never one to mingle.
Yet today…
She smiled.
Her voice was soft, almost honeyed.
"Just checking around" she said, glancing at him with an unreadable expression.
Edward blinked.
Why now?
He told himself it was nothing.
Just polite conversation.
An odd coincidence.
They talked…
And talked…
Words spilling from his lips like a river of oblivion.
He didn't notice at first…
Her movements growing slower, deliberate.
Her gaze lingering longer than necessary.
Until…
Her hand touched his chest.
Then… lower.
His eyes widened, heart lurching.
One hand on his chest.
The other creeping to his groin.
Instinct screamed at him.
He shoved her away, his voice harsh, trembling.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Joslyne merely smiled—a thin, knowing smile.
Edward fled the room.
His steps quick, frantic.
He cursed himself.
"How dare I let her touch me?"
But deep inside, a small, terrifying thought began to bloom…
"How long before....i don't resist?"