THREE MONTHS LATER.
Lessons in Possession
INTERIOR. HOTEL SUITE.
Nora sat on the very edge of the wide bed. Thick curtains blocked the daylight, plunging the room into twilight. This was the same luxury suite, the place of her recent humiliation, where Adrian had forced her to play the role of the temptress.
She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling cold and a sticky shame. Her gaze was fixed on the door, which suddenly opened without a knock. Adrian entered confidently, tall and immaculate in his expensive suit. He swept his gaze over her—from head to toe. Nora looked subdued and broken; her pale face and hunched posture spoke of complete defeat. But there was not a hint of sympathy in his eyes.
Adrian: You did well enough yesterday, — he said, his voice even, emotionless, as if discussing stock quotes. — Not perfect… but enough to invest my energy and resources in you.
Nora winced. She looked up, a faint flame of protest flashing in her eyes.
Nora: Is there anything human in you? — her voice trembled with resentment. — You're assessing me like merchandise.
Adrian: That's exactly right, — he took a step, closing the distance. — I am a businessman and I need to know if a person is worth my time.
He tossed a thin, dark leather folder onto the bed next to her.
Adrian: A contract. For non-disclosure. For complete obedience to the rules. Sign it.
Nora, without taking her eyes off him, picked up the pen and signed, without even glancing at the text.
Adrian: You won't even read it? — something close to sarcasm tinged his voice.
Nora: If I refused to sign, would it change anything?
Adrian offered a slight — predatory — smile.
Adrian: No. I would still make sure you agreed to the status of my mistress.
Nora tensed, her shoulders rising.
Nora: We didn't agree to that.
Adrian: Don't worry. We won't be as intimate as you fear, — he said with careless indifference. — To everyone, you will be my expensive toy. An ornament I can show off when I want. And discard when I want.
He leaned closer. The scent of his expensive cologne filled the space between them. His palm, strong and firm, covered her chin, lifting her face, forcing her to look him straight in the eyes.
Adrian: Now you are my woman, Nora. Formally. Temporarily. But — mine.
He let go of her as suddenly as he had touched her.
Adrian: Now get ready. I need to turn you into a woman worthy of a man like me.
Nora: You have a high opinion of yourself, — Nora hissed with anger.
Adrian: But it happens to be true, — he shrugged, turning towards the door. — You have half an hour. I'll be waiting for you downstairs, in the car.
INTERIOR. BEAUTY SALON.
Nora sat in a soft leather chair, surrounded by multiple mirrors that reflected her from various angles. The specialists worked quickly, harmoniously, and silently: the stylist teased her hair, the makeup artist worked magic on her face, and the skincare specialist massaged her hands. She was being transformed into a completely different woman—one who, in Adrian's opinion, was worthy of being his "toy."
Adrian stood slightly behind her, leaning his shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't speak, just observed the process. When the makeup artist finished with her lips and stepped away to get the next tool, Adrian took a step forward. Suddenly, he picked up the thin, elegant lip brush with the remnants of dark red lipstick.
Nora: What are you doing? — Nora flinched in surprise.
He didn't answer immediately. His dark eyes, usually cold and calculating, studied her face intently.
Adrian: I'm teaching you intimacy with me, — he said in a low voice.
He stood so close that she could smell the fresh scent of his breath. His fingers touched her chin, steadying her face. She couldn't move. He slowly drew the brush across her lower lip—it was too slow, too sensual, unlike ordinary makeup application.
Adrian: Part your lips slightly, — he commanded.
Obedience was instinctive. She slightly opened her mouth, and her gaze was locked on his eyes, where something like fire flickered for a moment. His gaze lingered on her mouth. Unexpectedly, he remembered how she had pressed her lips against his yesterday, in that first, desperate attempt at seduction. And he wanted to kiss her. This desire was sudden, sharp, but he restrained it, pushing it back beneath his mask of composure. Instead of a kiss, his thumb slid across her lower lip, wiping away the excess lipstick. He pulled back, his face returning to its usual indifference.
Adrian: Get used to closeness. We must be convincing. Like real lovers.
INTERIOR. BOUTIQUE. FITTING ROOM.
A boutique accessible by invitation only. Adrian seemed to be the master here, selecting outfits for Nora with cold efficiency—garments that screamed of fabulous price and impeccable taste.
Nora was changing into another dress—a flowing blue one, emphasizing every curve. She had only managed to zip it up halfway when the fitting room door was thrown open. Adrian walked in like a man who required no permission, disregarding all rules of decorum.
Nora: I'm not yet… — Nora began.
Adrian: I don't care, — he cut her off.
He turned her to face the reflection. His hands settled on her shoulders, heavy and authoritative. They slid lower—along her collarbones, then to her waist, adjusting the fit of the fabric on her body.
Adrian: You must look expensive. And act as if you're used to it, — his voice was low.
He adjusted the fabric on her back, and his fingers traced the line of her spine through the thin silk. Nora shivered, unable to suppress the reaction.
Adrian: Don't flinch, — came the demand.
He pulled the zipper all the way up. She felt the fabric tightly hugging her body.
Adrian: I am training you in tactility. So you don't jump every time I touch you. And so others believe—you are truly mine.
His fingers lingered on her waist, exerting light but insistent pressure. In the mirror, they looked like the perfect couple: he—the unapproachable owner, she—his luxurious, obedient accessory.
INTERIOR. JEWELLERY SALON.
The atmosphere in the jewellery salon was even more ceremonial. Crystal display cases, velvet, subdued lighting that made the diamonds sparkle like stars. Sales assistants, impeccably dressed, practically ran around Adrian, ready to fulfill his every whim.
He chose a piece of jewellery—a delicate, yet incredibly expensive chain with a pendant of a rare stone.
He approached her from behind, taking the chain. He swept the hair from her neck, gathering it to the side. The chain settled on her neck.
Adrian: Now you look exactly as my mistress should look, — his voice grew even softer. He couldn't resist—his lips touched her neck, just below the hairline. She gasped in surprise. Nora didn't know why her knees were trembling—from fear of his unpredictable power, from hatred of her own weakness, or… something else she was afraid to admit.
INTERIOR. HOTEL SUITE. NIGHT.
The same luxurious suite where Nora had taken the "seduction exam." Nora stood before a massive mirror, her reflection in the expensive dress and jewellery—a perfect, irresistible woman.
Adrian took a place right behind her back. His hands rested on her waist. Nora flinched.
Adrian: Look, — his voice was low, enveloping, and commanding. — Look at how you look with me.
She lifted her eyes, meeting her reflection. She—in the expensive dress, with new hair, jewellery… and with his hands on her, which now seemed part of her outfit. This was power. His power over her. And over how she felt.
One of his hands moved higher, slipping beneath the fabric and beginning to caress her breast. Nora tried to resist, to push his hand away, but he didn't allow it.
Adrian: Stand still and enjoy it, — he commanded. — Remember, to everyone, we are lovers. I can touch you whenever and wherever I want. We won't sleep together, but you must enjoy my caresses, no matter where I touch you.
He continued to caress her breast, his actions insistent and skillful. Nora felt her body betray her, reacting to the touches. Her nipples swelled and hardened.
Adrian: Now turn to me and touch my chest, — he demanded, not releasing her waist. — I want to see that you enjoy touching me as much as I enjoy touching you.
He sharply turned Nora toward him, pressing her closer by the waist, so they were flush against each other.
Adrian: Well? Or do you want me to beg you again?
She obeyed. Slowly, Nora began to unbutton his perfectly fitted shirt, feeling the hardness of his muscles beneath the thin fabric. When his trained body was exposed, she ran her nails across it, barely scratching. Adrian instinctively pressed her closer to him, emitting a low, almost animal sound.
Adrian: Good girl. Continue, — he demanded, looking her straight in the eyes. — Kiss my chest. You must caress me so that others desire you and want to be in my place. Such scenes of affection are inevitable. It's part of the game. Part of your job.
Nora obeyed. She began to cover his chest with kisses, gentle at first, and then—more demanding. Her hatred finally found an outlet in this role. She poured everything she felt into these movements—and didn't notice how the hatred mixed with a sudden pleasure. She became so engrossed that she didn't realize how she had moved from his neck to his lips.
Adrian, long since aroused by her touches, did not stop her. He allowed her to touch his lips, but in that same second, he seized the initiative, deepening the kiss. For the first time, he felt her respond to his kiss on her own, without his demands. Nora dissolved into him, surrendering to the moment, not yet realizing that she liked it.
He couldn't hold back anymore; he kissed her passionately, almost savagely, with a desire that swept away his usual, practiced coldness. The kiss was more sensual than any orgasm, breaking down the walls he had so carefully erected. Realizing that his flesh was swelling again and he might not control himself, he abruptly stopped, stepping back, like a man who knows how to maintain self-control. But with difficulty.
Adrian: We are ready, — he said dryly, adjusting his crumpled shirt. His voice sounded slightly husky. — In two days, you will meet the man you must seduce. He will be celebrating his birthday. We will arrive to congratulate him.
INTERIOR. ROLLS-ROYCE SALON. LONDON.
Nora sat, barely touching the seat, and Adrian was seated opposite her, watching her with unconcealed, assessing scrutiny. The diamonds on her neck shimmered coldly in the subdued light.
Nora: I still don't understand why this charade. You could have brought any model, Adrian. Why me?
A thin, predatory smile touched his lips, not reaching his eyes.
Adrian: Because you are the perfect bait.
He leaned closer, and the scent of his expensive cologne and power enveloped her.
Adrian: Your target today is a man who is publicly impeccable but a true scumbag inside. He has a wife, Ellen. She is from a good family, but he has turned her life into hell. Publicly—an exemplary marriage. Behind closed doors—coldness, humiliation, and complete neglect.
Nora: And she can't just leave?
Adrian: She cannot. Contract. A prenuptial agreement. In the event of a divorce, she is left with nothing. She has to abide by the contract terms until Theodore has a proven, legally clean infidelity. A real one. Witnesses, confirmations. He is incredibly careful.
He took her hand, and his fingers squeezed her wrist.
Adrian: Your mission is simple, Nora: seduce him. Push him to violate the contract. You are not doing anything wrong. You are doing a good deed. You are freeing a woman from a golden cage. And you get your money. You must become his catastrophe.
Nora: What if he doesn't take the bait?
Adrian: He will.
Nora sighed heavily, looking at her reflection in the glass.
Nora: Fine, Adrian. I'll do it.
Adrian: Good girl, — he whispered, and released her hand.
The car stopped. The game began.
INTERIOR. ELITE RESTAURANT, LONDON. EVENING.
The London sky overhead was dark and heavy, but the light from the windows of "The Atrium" restaurant made the night blinding. It was a world woven from crystal, gold, and conspicuous wealth.
Adrian was the first to step out of the black Rolls-Royce Phantom. He offered his hand to Nora.
Adrian: Let's go, — his voice was dry and commanding.
Nora emerged as if stepping off the cover of the most expensive magazine. The dress—flowing blue silk. On her neck, where there was nothing yesterday, a diamond necklace now glowed, screaming of its price. She looked… divine. Like a woman bought for millions.
They entered the main hall. All eyes turned to them. Men greedily devoured Nora with their eyes, assessing her sexuality and her cost. Women whispered softly, trying to figure out who she was.
Adrian, ignoring the attention, confidently walked towards the center of the hall. His target was obvious. Standing by a round table, laughing and holding a glass, was Theo. Adrian stopped behind his back.
Adrian: Brother, happy birthday.
Theo slowly turned around. His smile instantly vanished. Nora felt the ground give way beneath her feet. Adrian authoritatively placed his palm on Nora's thigh and pressed her close to him.
Adrian: Allow me to introduce you, — pure, unadulterated victory resonated in Adrian's voice. — My woman. Nora. Although, as far as I know, you are already well acquainted.
A glass slipped from the hands of Ellen, who stood beside Theo, and shattered on the marble floor with a deafening ring. Lady Cecilia, Adrian's stepmother, recoiled, covering her mouth with her hand.
The past that Nora had run from, and Theo had tried to bury, now stood between them. And stared straight back. Nora closed her eyes for a second: "I knew. I felt that something was wrong with this agreement. Now it's clear why Adrian needed me specifically."
Theo quickly regained his composure. Taking Nora's hand, he looked into her eyes, brought it to his lips, and kissed it gently.
Theo: I'm glad you're here, Nora. Seeing you again is the best gift for me.
To be continued...