The library was a labyrinth of dark wood and old paper, but the workstation Vivienne had prepared for Maya was a jarring contrast—sleek, metallic, and bleeding edge. Maya had been coding for six hours, her fingers flying over the keys as she navigated the encrypted layers of the Vance family's private archives.
She was so focused that she didn't hear the doors open. She only knew she wasn't alone when the chair she was sitting in was suddenly spun around.
Vivienne stood there, looking like a goddess of corporate war in a deep emerald silk dress. In her hand was a glass of wine, and her eyes were dark with a mixture of fatigue and something far more dangerous.
"You've made progress," Vivienne said, her voice a low purr. She set the glass down and leaned over Maya, her hands gripping the armrests of the chair, effectively trapping her. "But I hear you were... difficult for Sloane this morning."
Maya swallowed hard, the scent of Vivienne's perfume filling her lungs. "She has a very broad definition of 'protection.'"
"Sloane does exactly what I tell her to do," Vivienne whispered, leaning closer until their foreheads almost touched. "She told me you tried to leave the wing. We had a deal, Maya. And when you break a deal with me, there's a penalty."
Vivienne reached out, her fingers trailing down the column of Maya's throat before hooking into the collar of her shirt. She didn't pull, but the threat was there. The heat in the room seemed to rise ten degrees.
"I need to know I can trust you," Vivienne murmured, her gaze dropping to Maya's mouth. "Not just your mind, but your loyalty. Show me how much you want to keep your brother safe."
Before Maya could answer, the heavy library doors creaked open. Sloane walked in, her silent footsteps echoing on the hardwood. She stopped a few feet away, her eyes moving between Vivienne's hand on Maya's collar and the flush on Maya's cheeks. She didn't look angry; she looked hungry.
"The security feeds are cleared, Vivienne," Sloane said, her voice like grinding stones. She didn't leave. Instead, she moved behind Maya's chair, her large hands resting on Maya's shoulders, mirroring Vivienne's trapping position.
Maya was caught between them—the cold, elegant brilliance of the Socialite and the dark, possessive heat of the Shadow.
"Good," Vivienne said, never taking her eyes off Maya. She leaned in even closer, her lips brushing against Maya's ear. "Sloane, help our guest understand the importance of following the rules. I think she needs a more... hands-on lesson tonight."
Maya's heart thundered in her chest, a mix of terror and an electric, shameful thrill. She was no longer just an employee or a debtor. She was the prize in a game she didn't know how to play.