Chapter Eight
Ray Chen
No one tells me the rules.
That's how I know they're real.
The next morning, I wake before my alarm, heart racing like I forgot something important. The room feels watched—even though I know that's impossible. I sit up slowly, scanning the corners, the window, the door.
Nothing.
Still, I change.
I don't reach for the soft pink blouse I usually wear. I pick something plainer. Higher neckline. Longer sleeves. I don't know why.
I just… don't want to draw attention.
On the subway, a man smiles at me. Harmless. Normal. I look away instantly, pulse spiking, Sebastian's voice ghosting in my head.
Don't smile at men who don't matter.
The thought makes my stomach twist.
At the office, my badge opens doors faster than usual. Security nods at me like they know me now. Like I've been upgraded without being informed.
My desk has moved.
Same floor. Different position. Closer to the executive hallway. Further from everyone else.
I swallow.
"Did I request this?" I ask facilities.
They won't meet my eyes. "It was… approved."
By who, they don't say.
I sit, spine stiff, fingers hovering over my keyboard. My calendar populates itself—meetings already placed, buffers already built in. Lunch blocked off.
Alone.
I don't question it.
That scares me most.
At ten-thirty, someone from marketing approaches my desk. He's friendly. Too friendly. He asks if I want coffee.
My mouth opens.
Then my phone buzzes.
Unknown: No.
Just that.
I stare at the screen, breath shallow. The man waits, hopeful.
"I—I'm busy," I say quickly. "Sorry."
His smile fades. He walks away.
Relief floods me.
Then shame follows it like a shadow.
At noon, the soup arrives.
Same place. Same order. Delivered to my desk with my name written neatly on the lid.
No note.
No explanation.
I eat it anyway.
By three, I realize I haven't spoken to another man all day.
By four, I realize I haven't needed to.
My phone buzzes once more.
Unknown: You're learning.
My fingers tremble.
Me: I didn't agree to this.
The reply takes longer this time. Long enough to make my chest ache.
Unknown: You agreed when you stayed.
I stare at the message until the words blur.
He's wrong. I could leave. I could quit. I could disappear.
But the idea feels… heavy. Complicated. Dangerous in ways I can't articulate.
The office lights dim as evening approaches. People file out, glancing at me like I'm something fragile, something claimed.
I pack my bag slowly.
My phone buzzes again.
Unknown: I'll walk you down.
My breath catches.
I don't reply.
The elevator dings.
When the doors open, Sebastian is already there.
Waiting.
He doesn't touch me this time. Doesn't need to. He just stands close enough that I adjust my steps automatically to match his.
In the lobby, he pauses.
"You followed every rule today," he says calmly.
"I didn't know there were rules," I whisper.
He leans in, voice low, intimate, terrifying.
"Exactly."
The doors open to the night.
He doesn't escort me to the car.
He lets me walk alone.
I feel his eyes on my back the entire way.
And the worst part?
I don't feel relieved when he doesn't follow.
I feel… untethered.
Like I broke a rule I don't know how to name.