Chapter 5
Mira
What the hell had just happened?
My pulse raced, my body still buzzing like it hadn’t been dismissed from the moment yet.
“Ethan, tell Elisa her services will no longer be needed. Have her talk to HR and see if we need her in another area.”
Ethan didn’t argue. He just nodded, stood, and left, his glance flicking to me once. At least I wasn’t the only one blindsided by how far off script this had gone.
“Sir…”
Mr. Reid’s jaw clenched.
“I’m not an assistant. I’m a…”
“Yes, not an assistant. You work in risk and cyber analysis. I know precisely what you do, Ms. Rhodes.”
Heat pricked at the back of my neck. My hands twitched toward each other, a nervous tick, but I forced myself to stop. He rose, fastening his jacket with deliberate precision, and moved around the desk.
“You’ll do the same thing,” he said, settling onto the edge of his desk, every line of his body precise, controlled. “You may occasionally manage my calendar. Bring coffee. Consider those peripheral.” His tone suggested these were afterthoughts.
Was he making this up as he went?
I forced myself to look up at him instead of tracking the way even his stance carried command, as if power was stitched into the seams of his perfectly tailored suit. He reached over and picked up his phone, pushing a few buttons.
“My office.”
He hung up and gestured for me to stand. I turned toward the door then froze when his hand settled at the small of my back, guiding me forward with a pressure so subtle it could almost be professional.
Almost.
Heat flooded through me at the intimate touch. God, I’d been on overdrive since my run-in with the masked man Friday night, and the email I’d woken up to this morning hadn’t helped matters at all.
I stepped out of the office just in time to watch Elisa storm off, her pout too theatrical to be anything but staged. My stomach twisted. If she’d been dismissed so easily, what chance would I have? Ethan walked her to the elevator, and when it dinged, she stepped inside.
A very confused Micah stepped out, brows knitting the second his gaze flicked from Reid to me, like he’d walked into the wrong movie halfway through.
Mr. Reid stepped around me, his hand falling away, and addressed him.
“You wanted to see me, Sir?”
Micah blinked between us again, brows pulling tighter as if the movie had only gotten stranger.
“You’ll help her get settled,” Reid said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I want her workstation set up.” He gestured to the large desk directly outside his office. “Make sure she has access to the appropriate systems, security clearance, whatever she needs.”
Micah’s lips parted, his usual quick wit knocked clean out of him. For once, he didn’t have a joke. “Of course, Sir.”
I swallowed hard. Settled? Executive wing? My brain stumbled over the words.
Fired, HR, assistant, under me.
Reid’s gaze shifted back to me. “I expect efficiency, Ms. Rhodes. You’ll find Mr. Carver helpful in smoothing the transition.”
Micah shot me a look—the kind only a friend could give—half reassurance, half demand for answers I didn’t have.
Of course Reid would bring Micah in. He kept our systems running, the quiet backbone of the company.
Micah should’ve been running the analyst floor.
He was miles better than Stan, just hadn’t been there as long.
“Understood,” I said, even though that was the last thing I felt.
“Good.” Reid dismissed us both with a flick of his hand, like the decision had been made hours ago and we were only just catching up. His office door clicked shut behind him, and I jumped—finally taking the first full breath I’d managed since stepping onto this floor.
Micah looped his arm through mine and steered me toward the elevator. The second the doors slid shut, he turned on me. “You need to tell me what happened. Now.”
I laughed.
A jagged, breathless sound scraped out of my chest—wrong, wild, impossible to stop. The kind of laugh that made strangers back away, convinced you’d finally snapped.
Micah flinched, eyebrows shooting up, and I couldn’t blame him. I felt unhinged.
He shook his head. “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”
He wasn’t wrong. I didn’t know myself either, or the girl who had walked into Mr. Reid’s office. The girl who’d sent an email last night to a man she didn’t know. The girl who couldn’t separate that man from someone who might hurt her.
Maybe that was the point. Because all weekend, I hadn’t been worried about my job. Only one thought kept circling my brain:
What if I wanted him to hurt me?
Well, maybe not just one thought.
The bottle of wine I’d emptied last night hadn’t silenced them. Not even after I had hit send on that rambling, reckless email.
The response waiting in my inbox this morning had been worse than silence. It had been cold, sharp. Intimate enough to cut.
My skin still buzzed with the echo of his words, as if they’d been written across me instead of a screen.
Sir is fine for now. I will call you Pet or Little one.
This morning, you are going to go into your meeting prepared. Don’t fidget. Hold your head up high. Accept whatever is dished out with dignity and grace.
When you end your day, respond to this message and let me know how it went. Let me take that burden from you. Then we will talk about an arrangement that would be beneficial for both of us.
-Sir.
It took only an hour to move my things from my cubicle upstairs. Micah stayed by my side the entire time, which helped because Stan was furious. He showed up halfway through, ready to make a scene, but Micah intercepted him before he could get a word out.
Technically, Micah still reported to Stan, but that didn’t mean Stan liked him. Micah’s team had outperformed Stan’s for months, and everyone knew it. It told everyone a lot when Mr. Hale went straight to Micah and skipped Stan entirely.
Stan had been the only one surprised I hadn’t been fired. Everyone else leaned into the “semi-promotion,” chalking it up to me saving the company, even if I’d done it the wrong way. I just wasn’t sure this felt like a reward.
An hour before I was scheduled to leave, Reid had dropped a stack of folders on my desk that had to have been a foot tall with instructions to go over everything like I had with the last one.
He and Cross left for the day while I’d spent the next three hours skimming what I could and making a plan for the following day.
I should have asked when he needed it by, but when he leaned over me, with that strong leather and sandalwood scent of his, I couldn’t find my words.
Now I sat down across from Micah in his and Noah’s apartment, looking out across Seattle. Micah handed me a glass of wine and sat on the other side of the couch.
“You going to tell me what’s going on?” he asked. “Noah’s got the graveyard shift at the hospital tonight, so spill.”
“How much do you know about Sanctum?”
“The club?” He shrugged. “Noah and I have been members for a couple years. We try to go once a month.”
“The back rooms?” I pursed my lips together, my face heating.
He smiled and cocked his head. “We’ve walked through the gallery before. There’s themed rooms upstairs as well. Why do you ask?”
I reached down and pulled out the card Sir had given me Friday. “I ran into someone in the gallery.”
He took the card from me. “The gallery is members only or with guests, which you weren’t.”
“I know, another case of being somewhere I’m not supposed to be.” I sighed. “You’re into the whole kink thing?” The question slipped out before I could stop it.
Micah flipped the card over, studying it, then handed it back to me. “It’s not a thing. And not something you get into lightly.”
“But… what if I’m curious?”
Micah leaned back, swirling the wine in his glass like he needed a moment to gather his thoughts. “Curious is one thing, love. Acting on it is another. You don’t dip a toe in and hope for the best. Not in this world.”
I traced the edge of the card. “He said…”
I stopped, heat rushing into my cheeks. God, how did I even explain it?
Sir is fine for now. I will call you Pet or Little one.
The words burned like a brand.
Micah’s eyes narrowed. “He said what?”
“Nothing,” I deflected too quickly.
Micah wasn’t buying it. He set his glass down, leaning forward. “Mira, I love you, and I’m the last person to tell you to turn your back on something you’re curious about. That was why we took you. Get you out of your head, try something new.”
“He wants to train me.”
He bit his bottom lip. “As a submissive?”
I turned the card over in my hand. “I—”
Micah took my hand in his. “Okay, a few things.”
I waited, setting down my wine on the coffee table, giving him my full attention.
He released a slow breath and held up one finger.
“One—you don’t improvise in that world. It’s not safe.
If you’re actually going to explore this, and yes, with the right connection, it will quiet those voices in that pretty little head of yours, you need to do it safely.
One drink to warm the nerves is fine. Showing up drunk and hoping for the best?
Absolutely not. Any Dom worth anything won’t touch you if you’re more than slightly buzzed. ”
I nodded.
Dom-short for Dominant.
I’d done some Googling on my lunch break.
“Two—boundaries are everything. You decide what you will and won’t do beforehand. We call them limits. You get a safe word. It’s non-negotiable, and everything stops when you use it. If someone tries to pressure you, guilt you or gaslight you after, that’s not play—that’s abuse.”
“Boundaries, limits, safe words, got it.”
Would it be rude to take notes?
“It’s not uncommon for people to keep their identities private,” Micah added. “We have friends with play partners who don’t know each other outside the club at all.”
“So this isn’t abnormal?”
“There’s so much variety. You can be anyone. Communication is everything.” He shrugged. “Aftercare isn’t optional. Whether he handles it himself or arranges it, you need someone who checks on you and makes sure you’re okay. I’ll check in the day after, but if he ghosts you, kick him to the curb.”
“You make it sound like I have control.”
He smiled softly. “You do. A sub can stop a scene with one word. A good Dom pushes, but never crosses the line.”
“Am I stupid for wanting this?”
He patted my hand. “No. Just be safe. Meet at Sanctum and use one of their rooms. They even have personal alarms. If you want to try it, follow Sanctum’s strict rules. Don’t meet anywhere else.”
I went home late with all the information rolling around my head. The last thing I did before turning off the light on my nightstand was send an email.
Sir,
Today didn’t go as expected. I still have my job, though I’m unsure whether that’s a good thing right now. If I were to accept your offer, what would the rules be? Expectations? What would the next steps be?
-M
My phone dinged not five minutes later with a response. My stomach fluttered—fear or anticipation, I wasn’t sure—as I clicked it open.
Pet,
I like that you are careful, cautious. It’s the only way something like this works.
If you accept my offer, these are my rules.
Safe word-You will choose one, or we will use the traffic light system: yellow and red. When red is spoken everything stops. Immediately. No exceptions.
Location- We will meet only at Sanctum. They have several private rooms I would like to explore with you.
Confidentiality- What happens inside the walls of Sanctum stays there.
Limits- Attached you will find a questionnaire. Fill it out completely and return it to me before we meet. This is not optional.
Hard limits are non-negotiable. They will not be tested, pressed, or ignored.
Soft limits may be explored, but only with your consent in the moment.
If something changes, you will tell me. Honesty is not a request—it is required.
Questions-You may ask questions ahead of time, but during our sessions you will speak only when permitted.
Relationships- While you and I are engaged in extracurricular activities, you will abstain from any and all other intimate relationships. This is for your safety as well as mine. For the duration of this arrangement, you will be mine.
Feelings-This arrangement is reciprocal and transactional: we both get something from it.
I will teach you how submission can set you free, but this is not a romantic relationship.
If you develop romantic feelings for me, you must inform me immediately.
Rules say we will end the arrangement and go our separate ways.
If you cannot agree to all of these, we will not proceed.
You asked what the rules would be. These are mine.
If you’re still considering, respond with your safe word of choice and the finished questionnaire.
-Sir