Daniel had been walking on a razor’s edge ever since Juliette’s return.
Days were filled with reports, strategy decks, and boardroom whispers. Nights were more complicated—split between obedience lessons, praise, punishment, and cryptic moments where Juliette would circle him like a predator while Tyrone looked on, silent and pleased.
He was learning how to be composed under pressure.
But pressure doesn’t always come from the top.
Sometimes, it slinks in through the cracks—wearing stilettos and a smile.
It was early evening when Celeste made her move.
The office was mostly empty. Most execs had gone home. The cleaning staff hadn’t arrived. The golden light of sunset slanted through the tall windows, catching the sleek steel and marble in long, burning reflections.
Daniel was seated alone in the war room—a soundproof glass enclave meant for high-level strategy sessions. He was finishing a revised presentation Tyrone wanted reviewed before their Asia pitch.
Celeste appeared like a ghost in the doorway. No knock. No greeting. Just a sultry silhouette and the scent of gardenia and heat.
“You’re working too hard,” she said, voice low.
Daniel looked up, composed. “It’s what he expects.”
She stepped in without invitation.
“He expects a lot,” she purred, walking behind his chair. “But you’re doing more than delivering. You’re thriving. I can see it. He’s made you stronger.”
Daniel’s shoulders tensed slightly. “He’s taught me well.”
Celeste leaned down—her breath against his neck. “I wonder if he’s taught you everything.”
He turned slowly, eyes lifting to hers. “Celeste—what are you doing?”
She smiled, lips red as a wound.
“What he’s too busy to.”
She circled the table, her hips swaying. Today, she wore a high-slit pencil skirt and a silk blouse just one button away from scandal. Her nails were blood red. Her heels clicked like countdowns.
“Tyrone’s out of the office. I saw the calendar. Bangkok prep,” she said. “Juliette’s at the hotel, I’m guessing. He has his hands full.”
Daniel said nothing.
“So why are you here… working?” she whispered, stepping behind him again. “You deserve attention too.”
Her hands landed gently on his shoulders.
He flinched, but didn’t move.
“You’ve become very good at kneeling for him,” she said. “But have you ever thought about what it would feel like to be… in charge?”
He didn’t answer.
“He has power,” she continued. “But he’s greedy. He doesn’t share. He trains you, uses you, parades you like a pet.”
She leaned in, lips brushing his ear.
“I’d worship you, Daniel.”
That made him turn.
Slowly. Deliberately.
He stood from the chair. Not aggressive—but assertive. Taller than her now. Broader. Firmer.
“That’s not what this is about,” he said, voice calm.
Celeste blinked—momentarily thrown off. “What do you mean?”
“This isn’t about worship. Or seduction. This is about you wanting to see if you could steal me.”
She tilted her head. “And what if I do?”
Daniel stepped closer—so close she had to tilt her head up.
“You won’t.”
A beat of silence. She narrowed her eyes.
“You really think he’d care? You’re not the first little project he’s played with, Daniel. You think you’re different?”
Daniel smiled.
It was the first time he’d smiled like that—like Tyrone.
“No. I know I’m different. Because he trained me to recognize weakness. And right now…”
He glanced down at her hands, which had begun to tremble ever so slightly.
“…you’re showing all of yours.”
Celeste stepped back, carefully concealing her surprise.
“So you’re loyal. Fine. Maybe you’re just scared of what he’d do if you gave in.”
Daniel held her gaze, steady.
“I’m not scared. I choose to obey him. That’s the difference.”
Celeste inhaled sharply. Her expression flickered—pride, arousal, frustration.
“You’ll regret this,” she said.
Daniel shook his head. “No. You will. Because now he’ll know what you tried.”
She froze.
“You wouldn’t.”
Daniel turned back to his work. Calm. Unbothered.
“He trained me to report threats to his authority.”
Celeste stepped forward, panicked now. “Daniel—”
He cut her off with a glance. “Leave.”
She did. Quietly. But the moment she vanished behind the glass doors, Daniel let out the breath he’d been holding.
His hands trembled.
But his conviction did not.
Later that night, Tyrone’s phone buzzed while he was at his penthouse.
Daniel had sent a simple message.
Celeste came to the war room. Tried to manipulate me. Said you were too busy. I refused. Told her I choose you. Just thought you should know.
Tyrone stared at the screen for a long time.
He didn’t reply immediately.
Instead, he called Juliette.
“He passed,” he said.
Juliette purred over the line. “So… are you going to reward him?”
Tyrone’s smile was slow. Dangerous. Proud.
“Oh yes. He has no idea what’s coming.”