Vedansh: "After office. In my car."

Shit. The message was short, clipped, and devoid of any warmth. There was no emoji, no softening of the words.

It was a command, not a request.

The rest of the day was agonizing. Every time I saw Vedansh in the hallway, his gaze would find mine. It wasn't angry anymore, just... intense. A steady, deliberate stare that felt like a physical weight, reminding me of my impending sentence. His voice, when he had to speak to me about a work matter, was cool and professional, but underneath it, I could hear the edge that told me I was in deep trouble. I seriously considered just going straight home, thinking maybe I could talk to him tomorrow when he'd had time to cool down.

And that was a very, very bad idea. Because as I walked toward my car in the parking garage that evening, a strong arm wrapped around my waist. Before I could even scream, I was lifted effortlessly over a shoulder. Vedansh didn't say a word. He just carried me, my protests muffled against his back, and unceremoniously deposited me into the passenger seat of his car, slamming the door shut behind me.

He slid into the driver's seat, the confined space of the car suddenly feeling much smaller. Without a word, he ripped off his tie, the silk whispering through the air. He grabbed my wrists, pulling them together in front of me before deftly wrapping his tie around them, knotting it with a sharp, final tug.

Me: "What are you doing?"

He: "You know you're in trouble. And you were trying to run away."

Me: "I wasn't running! I have no clothes here. I was just going to pick some up and then come to your house."

He turned to me, and a slow smile spread across his face. It wasn't a good smile; it was a predator's smile, full of dark promises.

He: "Baby, from next time, don't lie to me. And I can assure you, you aren't going to need clothes tonight. Plus, tomorrow is Saturday. No office. Just us. So I will take my time with you."

That statement sent a jolt through me, a confusing mix of fear and excitement that I couldn't untangle. He saw the conflict in my eyes, and his smirk widened, telling me he knew exactly what I was thinking.

He started the car, pulling out of the parking spot with a controlled aggression. But as he drove, one hand remained on the wheel while the other moved to my thigh. His fingers traced patterns on my skin, inching higher and higher, a slow, deliberate journey that made my breath hitch with every advance.

Once we reached his apartment, the door barely clicked shut before he guided me to the plush sofa. His movements were deliberate and controlled, his eyes holding mine with an intensity that made my heart race. He helped me out of my shirt and skirt, his touch both gentle and commanding. Before I could react, he took my hands, guiding them to rest behind my back. Then, he gently lifted my legs, folding them at the knees to create a perfect "V," leaving me completely open to his gaze.

He: "I have to cook food for you. We need to keep your energy up. I wouldn't want you getting too tired when we're... catching up on things, right?"