The next working day passed quietly. I continued working with the remaining documents, closing reports, checking the data. There was no response to my file. Which meant either everything suited them, or the matter had been postponed. Neither option concerned me.
By four I was finished. I took my bag and left.
On the way I stopped by a store. I bought a couple of packs of ready-made food, the kind you can just put in the microwave and forget about for five minutes. A convenient format for evenings without plans.
At home I took off my shoes, tied my hair back, turned on the light in the bathroom. I was already heading for the shower when someone knocked on the door. Not loudly. I opened almost immediately.
Theron was standing in the corridor, as if in no hurry and with no doubt that I would answer.
I noted this and stepped aside, letting him in.
"Hello," I said.
There was no answer.
He came closer, leaned down, and kissed me. Abruptly, without preliminary courtesies.
For a moment a thought crossed my mind: missed me?
It left quickly. I doubted Theron missed anyone at all.
The kiss was insistent. He pressed me against the wall. I didn't respond; his force didn't leave me the space to. His eyes were half-closed. His hands held my face, controlling the distance. Not aggression, simply fact: he sets the pace, I accept it.
He looked straight at me, met my eyes, and barely smiled.
He tilted my head back, placed his leg between mine, touching where the body reacts faster than I manage to think. Then he drew back slightly, releasing my lips.
"I'm going to shower. Will you join me?" he asked calmly. The smile remained.
"I was actually heading there. But I'll let you go first," I said, smiling at him with a hint of mischief.
"As you wish," he replied in the same tone. The smile mirrored mine.
His guards entered the apartment, as usual carrying in bags of food and his things. They didn't come in at once—they waited for a signal, or for him to greet me. Maybe they were simply used to this routine.
I was not the only one he had. That was no secret. There were others, and not just one. A man with an appetite like his is hard to imagine alone. Once even my body had grown tired of his pressure, although it had long grown accustomed to many forms of pain.
But that kiss, mouth to mouth…
I don't remember him kissing like that outside the bed. Not out of habit, not in passing.
Maybe he just slipped. Or wanted to? He always does what he wants.
Without tension and without unnecessary thoughts, I began to set the food on the table. What had been brought was for him. I heated my microwave dinner. I didn't change my plans. Not even for him.
There was a knock at the door.
I went more carefully, looked through the peephole. Derek.
"Hello," I said and opened the door a little. Not fully. "Sorry, I can't today."
My lips pressed into a brief apology.
Derek glanced through the gap, noticed Theron's things inside. He looked at me, questioning.
"Theron," I said in a half-whisper.
For a second, something like satisfaction appeared on his face. A rare sight.
"Got it. You'll tell me later," he replied. He lifted a bottle of wine in farewell and left for his place.
Usually he came when he didn't want to be alone. When the thoughts began to press. Today I couldn't be near. Not even just to sit beside him. It irritated me. More than I wanted to admit.
I closed the door. Stood there a little longer, uncertain.
Would Derek be all right?
My thoughts were interrupted by Theron.
"Who was that?" he asked evenly, his gaze gliding over the set table.
"No one. An acquaintance," I answered shortly, still standing by the door.
He stopped and looked straight at me.
"Which acquaintance exactly?" Dry voice. The displeasure was not hidden.
"Doesn't matter," I cut him off. I had no desire to brief him. He comes here for sex; he gets it. The rest isn't his territory.
"Who?"—already a command.
"It doesn't matter," I repeated in the same tone and walked to the table. Sat down.
"Do you want me to find out myself, or will you still answer?" There was a familiar shade in his voice. The one that appears when he shifts to pressure.
"What's with the control? You come here for sex, and you get it. So no family drama," I said calmly.
He stood opposite me, across the table. His shoulders tense, his face dark. He clearly didn't like my answer.
"I'll ask one last time. Who?" Rage was close, almost in his voice.
"If you want to control someone—control your fiancée, Amy. And leave me alone," I said. My irritation broke through.
I didn't finish. By the look in Theron's eyes I could see him turn cold.
"Practice your dictatorship with her. I'm not interested," I added. Keeping myself in check was difficult, though outwardly he began to look like someone to stay wary of.
Before me stood that same Theron: cold, calculating, a mafioso. The one I had seen during torture.
Silence remained between us. I felt no tension. Everything appeared within familiar limits. But it was enough to say her name—for him to change. That meant it was a boundary he did not cross. And one I should not touch.
I waited for an answer, but he said nothing.
He simply turned, got dressed, and left.
I continued my dinner. At the same time, I texted Derek:
18:15 — "Everything okay?" — Mirey
The answer came quickly:
18:16 — "Yes." — Derek
Good, if he was all right.
But with Theron…
Is Amy really so important to him that even mentioning her name is forbidden?
I remembered how he behaves around her. Quietly. Carefully. Almost gently. As if she were a porcelain doll.
He abandoned his mafia life for her, Mirey, I reminded myself as I finished the dry meat.
I never had illusions about myself. But perhaps Amy was the line I should not cross.
After washing the dishes and making sure Theron was not coming back, I washed his plate as well. I gathered his things and placed them outside the door. The guards would take them. Or he would.
I went to sleep without extra thoughts and, unexpectedly, fell asleep quickly.
His absence did not hinder me in the slightest.
The next morning his things were already gone. I did not see Theron either. It continued this way for two more days. I received no tasks.
Ostin had gone on a business trip and told me I could simply check accounting reports at the company. But when I came there, of course, they gave me nothing.
I was restless from idleness. On the fourth day, thankfully, I brought new books on jurisprudence and simply sat reading.
By the fifth day, I began to suspect they had forgotten about me.
I wrote to Ostin. There was no answer. Checked my email—empty.
A thought rose carefully: would he really fire me over her?
Such thoughts lead to others. Unwanted. Anxious.
Should I look for new work—that question lived with me the entire day.
The next day one of Theron's guards came.
"You are summoned to verify documents. Follow me."
I gathered what I needed and followed quickly. Finally, work.
The lack of tasks had begun to irritate me. Any occupation would do.
In the parking lot I got into the usual expensive car. We drove off.
After thirty minutes I didn't like the direction. It was the road to Theron's residence. The one I had been taken to after the torture.
The slight encouragement I had felt disappeared as soon as we entered the grounds.
I was being summoned to his home now?
Had something happened to him?
We approached the front entrance. The guard opened the door and asked me to follow.
We passed through the main building and, through a small garden, headed toward another house. On the grounds there was a fountain, a gazebo. Someone was drinking tea at a table.
I noticed a girl sitting there. She looked very much like Liana.
What was she doing here?
We approached another house, styled just like the first. The guard led me to a wooden door behind the living room on the first floor. He knocked. After receiving a response, he opened it.
I stepped into the office. Classic. Wood, restrained luxury. A large window facing a massive desk. Theron sat behind it, going through papers.
I took a step inside.
The door closed behind me, leaving us alone.
As usual, he paid me no attention.
But this time he didn't make me wait. Not the way he used to in his office.
"I want you to review some family documents," he said.
His tone was sharp, rough. It sounded like an order, not a request.
He had changed because of one mention of that girl. I noted it for a second, then set the thought aside. Work was work. The rest—later.
"What exactly am I looking for?" I asked, just as cold.
He stood up, giving me his place at the desk. Still not looking at me. I didn't try to catch his gaze either.
"Irregularities. Unjustified transfers. Illogical sales. Use your judgment."
Unusual that he trusted me with these documents. Family matters weren't the company. Considering this was a mafia dynasty, the trust seemed… practical, but not accidental.
I exhaled. Took my glasses from my bag and began. The folders were thick, the work substantial. I took out a notebook and a pen.
"Do you need coffee?" Theron asked, still coldly.
"Yes, please," I answered in the same tone.
He left the office.
I began reviewing the documents and making notes. On the first page it became clear: each folder belonged to a separate family member, listing their activities for the past two months.
The door opened and closed. I assumed it was Theron. I was wrong.
"So, the bitch even got in here," Liana's irritated voice tore through my concentration.
A walking drama on legs. Even here she wouldn't give me peace.
"First Dave, then I was removed from the company because of you, and now you're here too?" Liana almost screamed. "This will cost Theron. You're such a bitch. Who even are you?"
A headache began—like any needless noise.
"You and Dave are trying to blame your incompetence on me? Pathetic," I said. Irritation broke through.
Theron returned with the coffee. His expression made it clear he was displeased.
"What are you doing here?" he asked Liana in the same tone he used with me.
"Brought a folder. Your father sent it," she answered quieter, more cautiously.
Apparently removed from the company, she now worked here. The status of "loyal to the organization" kept her around.
Theron put down the coffee, took the folder.
"So now you're sleeping with him? That explains how you got rid of everyone so fast," Liana spat.
"Very funny," I couldn't resist. "I've said at the company before that I prefer women. But you're still the same. You think everything is solved through a bed, like it is for you."
A brief laugh escaped me.
How she managed to work beside Theron for so long was a mystery.
"GET OUT," Theron's voice cut through the room like a blade. It wasn't aimed at me.
I froze. My throat tightened.
It wasn't at me. Liana turned pale. Silent. She left. The door slammed.
Maybe I crossed the line again. Or simply named it out loud.
Theron stood, breathing heavily. The veins on his neck sharpened.
I mentally reviewed what I'd said, unable to find where exactly I went wrong.
He approached, turned my chair to him. Took me by the neck—not choking, just holding. Lifted my head until the muscles tightened.
"I told you," his voice was harsh.
I blinked. There were no questions.
"Remain a black mouse to everyone else. Emotions are only for me."
Almost a shout. And immediately—a kiss, sharp, insistent. His hand left my neck only to pull me closer.
I was shocked.
A rare state. The first time in a long while an emotion actually surfaced.
I didn't try to pull away. His kiss was too forceful, and I began to catch breaths of air. He lifted me and set me on the table right on top of the documents. The coffee fell to the floor. He paused, looked at the spilled liquid as if it mattered more than what was happening.
"Don't tell me you plan to finish this with ordinary sex on a desk," I said, trying to break the tension. My breathing still uneven.
"It feels like even if I fucked you right here, you would keep sorting the papers without paying attention to me," he said with a fleeting smirk. The coldness in his voice vanished.
"Quite possible," I replied, smiling in return.
He hesitated, as if deciding whether to go further or stop.
"I'll get a new coffee. Focus on the documents." There was an unfamiliar hint of care in his voice.
Theron stepped back and left the office.
I caught my breath, adjusted my clothes, sat down again, and continued reviewing the documents.
After some time Theron returned with coffee, set it beside me, and left again, not interfering.
I buried myself in work completely and lost track of time. The coffee had long been finished.
"It's time to go home," Theron said.
I hadn't noticed he had been in the room this entire time.
"Did you find anything?"
"There's a lead, but I need a longer period than two months," I said, pulling away from the papers.
"What period?" he asked while gathering the documents into stacks.
"A year would be better. There's a slight repetition in the sale of shares and buildings through distant relatives. To understand if it's coincidence or not, I need a longer timeframe."
"Anything else?" he asked, walking me to the door.
"Mostly unjustified sales. I'd like to know who they transferred to. Could you provide buyer data?"
"Yes. I'll prepare it. Next time you'll dig deeper," he said. The coldness left his voice.
I didn't understand him, but as usual, I decided to go with the flow.
He walked me to the car. I noticed someone put his bag in the trunk and that he got inside as well.
It seemed he was coming with me.
Maybe he would stay at my place tonight?
We reached my building.
He got out with me. The guard carrying his things followed behind. At the door another one was already waiting — with a restaurant bag. Dinner.
I looked at this entire arrangement skeptically.
As soon as we entered the apartment, Theron headed for the bathroom. On the way he asked if I wanted to join him. This time, I agreed. I usually refused. But not today.
Only once I stepped into the bathroom did I notice he had more shower products than I did. He clearly took care of himself. Rare for a man. Though I didn't exactly have much to compare with.
"You first," he said, adjusting the water.
"And here I thought we'd be washing together," I answered, sarcastic.
It felt like he was checking how uninhibited I was around him.
Without hesitation, I undressed and stepped under the warm water.
Theron undressed slowly. Just watched. Never looked away.
I soaped the sponge until it foamed and ran it along my body.
Scars. Those ones. I used to always be aware of them. Disgust came automatically. With him, I almost forgot they were there.
Theron stood and watched. The desire was obvious.
He was naked. His hand slid down his erect penis.
I stepped fully under the water and it washed the foam off my skin. Theron approached.
"Forgive me, but right now I'm going to have just plain sex in the shower," he said with a faint smile, reminding me of my earlier words.
He pressed me against the wall, lifted my hip, and stuck his cock between my legs, right into the hottest spot on my body. I wanted him too; it would've been damn unfair if he'd just stroked himself while looking at me.
"Arms around my neck," he said, low-voiced. Almost seductive.
I obeyed. He lifted my other thigh and my legs slipped around him almost on their own.
The first thrust pulled, I couldn't hold it back; a moan slipped out. It was good; my body truly wanted him.
"You missed this too," he murmured in that same low voice. "Your body missed mine. Don't deny it."
Thrust after thrust. Each one hitting pleasure, and I didn't hide the sounds.
"I'm not denying it," I managed, breathless.
My breathing faltered, water blurred the sounds, but his voice came right at my ear, short:
"Look at me." A command.
And even here, I obeyed; I didn't care — I just needed him not to stop. His pace quickened and I realized he was coming.
"Shit, it was a big mistake to shower together," he muttered, setting me back on my feet.
He pulled me in and kissed me through the water.
"Hopefully your body had enough rest in the meantime," his voice was too enticing in that calm, low tone.
I smiled slightly and understood the night was only beginning.
The lower part of his body made that perfectly clear.
That night we never ate; all we did was have sex. Feeding the almost week-long hunger.
After hours spent in the bathroom, he helped me dry off with surprising care and even carried me to the bed, where I fell asleep immediately. I didn't even notice his arm around my waist, or that he used me like a pillow. I was exhausted.
In the morning Theron got up first; as usual, I heard him getting ready and leaving the apartment. My body ached with that familiar mild soreness in my legs.
The thought of skipping work drifted around my head, but I forced myself to get up.
His things were gone from the bathroom, the untouched dinner bag in the kitchen gone as well. As usual, he took everything with him.
I went to the closet and that's when my eyes caught something that shouldn't have been in my apartment. On the chair, on top of my clothes, was a necktie.
Theron's tie. He wore it yesterday.
Why did he leave it here?
A tie…