The Forbidden (The Forbidden Clause #1)

Thursday Morning

I stop wearing perfume. I stop walking past his office unless necessary. I answer every text and message he sends with perfectly professional emails—punctuated, polite, bloodless. When I bring him reports, I set them on his desk with surgical precision.

No eye contact. No breath wasted. No heart exposed. But I can feel his gaze follow me every time. Burning. Searching. Hurting. And I don’t look back. Not because I’m strong. Because if I do…

I will fall apart.