Sophia
The grandfather clock in the corner of Vince's expansive office chimed, marking the passing of another hour. The ornate hands pointed to 5 PM, casting long shadows that danced eerily across the room. I glanced up from my laptop, feeling the weight of his gaze on me. Vince's eyes, dark and intense, seemed to pierce through the dim light, always watching, yet never when I looked back. I was really taken aback this morning when he insisted that I work in his office for further guidance and supervision, which wasn't necessary since I was experienced in what I do.
Seated behind his massive mahogany desk, stacks of papers surrounded him like a fortress, impenetrable and intimidating. His presence filled the room, a blend of power and danger that made my pulse quicken with both fear and a forbidden thrill. Our interactions so far were a delicate dance of dominance and submission, each moment fraught with unspoken tension.
"Sophia," his voice cut through the silence, deep and commanding, resonating with an authority that brooked no defiance. "Come here."
I stood, smoothing down my pencil skirt, my movements deliberate, masking the tremor in my hands. As I walked over, my heels clicked softly on the polished floor, the sound echoing in the oppressive quiet. Vince handed me a sleek black credit card without looking up, his fingers brushing mine. The brief contact sent a jolt of electricity up my arm, an unsettling mix of fear and desire.
"Tomorrow evening, there's a gala. You'll need something appropriate to wear. You'll use my card and buy yourself a dress and other necessities." His tone was matter-of-fact, yet the underlying current of expectation was unmistakable.
"Thank you, Mr. Harris, but it won't be necessary," I replied, my voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside me.
He finally looked up, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. "Sophia, it's Vince. We've discussed this."
I nodded, my heart pounding. "Yes, Vince."
Leaning back in his chair, he continued to study me, his gaze stripping away my composure, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. "I'll also accompany you to the mall. I have things to pick up myself. Be ready in an hour."
Surprised, I felt a surge of defiance rising within me. "Vince, that's not necessary," I said, my voice firmer than before. "I have my own money. I can buy my own dress. I have a car, meaning I can drive myself to the mall."
His expression darkened, the room growing colder with the shift in his demeanor. "It wasn't a request, Sophia," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You'll use my card and you'll go with me. Is that clear?"
Anger flared in my chest, my pulse quickening. "Why do you insist on controlling every aspect of my life? I can take care of myself. I honestly don't need your money or your company."
Vince stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. He was towering over me in an instant, the intensity in his eyes nearly overwhelming. "This isn't about control," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "It's about trust and protection. You're part of my world now, and in my world, appearances matter. You will do as I say."
I took a step back, my heart pounding in my ears. "You can't just dictate my life, Vince. I'm not a possession."
He closed the distance between us, his gaze locking onto mine with a fierce intensity. "I'm trying to protect you, to keep you safe. The gala is important, and you will be by my side." His voice was dangerously soft.
"Who do I need protection from?" I whispered, my voice trembling.
Vince's expression softened momentarily, a flicker of something almost tender crossing his features. "Sophia," he murmured, reaching out to touch my cheek. "You're not just another employee. You mean more to me...to us... than you realize. But this world is dangerous, and I...we... can't afford to let anything happen to you."
His touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the harshness of his words. The conflict within him was palpable, and for a moment, I saw a glimpse of the man behind the mask. The vulnerability, the fear of losing control.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions. "Fine," I said quietly. "I'll go with you."
He nodded, a hint of relief in his eyes. "We'll discuss everything else later. For now, get ready. We leave in an hour."
As I walked away, the reality of our complex relationship weighed heavily on my mind. Beneath the surface of his stern demeanour, there were fleeting moments of tenderness, but they were always overshadowed by the darkness that enveloped him. And yet, despite the fear and the uncertainty, I was drawn to him, caught in a web of emotions that I couldn't untangle.
In the privacy of my suite, I allowed myself a moment to breathe, to gather my thoughts. The impending shopping trip loomed before me, a simple task complicated by the presence of Vince. His control over me was absolute, and I both resented and craved it.
I glanced at the clock, the minutes ticking away with relentless precision. An hour. I had one hour to prepare, to steel myself for the evening ahead. But no amount of time could ready me for the storm that was Vince Harris.
Scene: The Mall
We entered a high-end boutique, and I was immediately greeted by a sales associate with a practiced smile. Vince remained near the entrance, his gaze fixed on me like a predator watching its prey. The associate led me to a rack of evening gowns, her cheerful demeanor a stark contrast to the storm brewing between Vince and me.
As I ran my fingers over the luxurious fabrics, my mind raced. What kind of dress would be appropriate for a mafia gala? Something elegant, but not too revealing. Sophisticated, yet comfortable. The thought of the gala, surrounded by powerful and dangerous figures, made my stomach churn with anxiety.
I pulled a few options and headed to the dressing room, feeling Vince's eyes burning into my back. The first dress was a sleek, black number with a plunging neckline. I stepped out to show Vince, feeling his eyes rake over me. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his silence louder than words.
Next, I tried on a deep red gown with a slit up the side. Vince's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as they traced the line of my leg. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of fear and something else, something forbidden.
Finally, I slipped into a navy blue dress with intricate lace detailing. It was elegant, sophisticated, and made me feel like a princess. I stepped out, meeting Vince's gaze. For a moment, I thought I saw something soften in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
"Do you like this one?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.
Vince's eyes bore into mine, cold and unyielding. "Do you even know what you're doing?" he said, his tone laced with disdain.
My heart sank. "What do you mean?"
He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "You think wearing a pretty dress makes you fit into this world? You're out of your depth, and it's pathetic."
Anger flared inside me. "I'm trying, Vince. You did insist I buy a dress so I'm basically doing this for you."
He scoffed, his lips curling into a sneer. "For me? Don't flatter yourself. You're doing this because you have no choice. Don't mistake necessity for devotion."
"You don't have to be so cruel about it then."
"Cruel?" he echoed, his voice low and dangerous. "This is barely nothing. If you can't handle my words, how do you expect to handle the reality of my world?"
I squared my shoulders, determined not to let him see how much he was hurting me. "I'll learn."
Vince's gaze softened for a brief moment, a flicker of something almost like regret passing through his eyes. But then his expression hardened once more. "Just remember, you're here because I allow it. Don't mistake that, love."
My heart skipped a beat at the endearment. Love? Did he really call me that? The word echoed in my mind, a confusing mix of emotions swirling within me.
With that, he turned on his heel and gestured for me to follow him. He strode to the cashier without looking back, leaving me no choice but to trail after him. As I reached his side, he spoke to the cashier in a commanding tone.
"We'll take all three dresses," he said, pulling out a black card and handing it over. Does he not remember that he gave me his card earlier?
The cashier's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the card, but she quickly masked her surprise and nodded. "Of course, sir."
I glanced at Vince, confusion and frustration bubbling within me. "Why all three? I just need one for the gala. "
He finally looked at me, his expression unreadable. "Because I can," he replied coldly. "And because I don't want anyone else to see you in them."
His words were possessive, and the realization of his control over me hit hard. I had thought wearing the dresses was about fitting in, but to Vince, it was about ownership.
Vince's gaze swept over the store. "She'll also need shoes and jewellery to match," he said, addressing the sales associate, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The sales associate quickly guided us to the accessories section. Under Vince's watchful eye, I selected several pairs of shoes and matching jewellery sets, each choice feeling like another chain locking me into his world.
The cashier handed back the card and the neatly packed dresses, shoes and jewellery. Vince took the bags and walked out, leaving me to follow.
"Here's your card back, even though I didn't use it." I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Keep it," he said flatly, "You might need it again."
I opened my mouth to argue, but his cold stare cut me off. "No room for argument, Sophia. Use the card, buy what you need, and stay close."
Swallowing my frustration, I nodded. "Fine."
As we stepped back onto the bustling mall, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was more trapped than ever.