The Obedience Vault
Part I – Arrival
The contract was twelve pages long, printed on thick cream paper with an ink that smelled faintly of lavender and metal. Elias Crane signed it without reading past the fourth clause. Power games bored him. He’d played them all — mergers, acquisitions, mistresses in latex, playboys in cages. Nothing surprised him anymore.
And yet, something about the Vault’s invitation had whispered past his cynicism and deep into his chest, like a knife drawn lovingly down bone.
“No safe words. No limits. No false power. Only obedience.”
Elias smiled as he handed the pen back to the courier — a silent man in a gray suit who bowed and left without a word.
The Vault was hidden beneath a countryside manor, the kind with ivy on the stone walls and classical statues holding cracked urns. From the outside, it looked like old money. But as soon as the last door closed behind him, Elias felt the shift — as if he’d stepped into another layer of the world, one ruled by scentless air, matte black walls, and silence.
A woman waited by the elevator. She was dressed not in leather or lace, but a crisp white uniform. Her posture: perfect. Her expression: unreadable.