The apartment was eerily quiet as Lila stepped through the doorway, her presence filling the space. Evan couldn't help but stare as she entered, taking in every detail—the way her long coat fell gracefully over her frame, the sharp elegance of her high heels that revealed a perfect line up her legs, and the glint in her eyes that held both indifference and command. She looked like someone who owned the world, or at least believed she did, and in that moment, Evan felt a strange mixture of admiration and fear.
Her eyes scanned over the room, assessing the damage—the broken furniture, the shattered glass, the overturned belongings that were the remnants of his emotional outburst. Her expression didn't change; if anything, there was a hint of amusement in the faint arch of her eyebrow. She moved slowly, her heels clicking softly against the floor, each step calculated and deliberate, like she was inspecting a piece of art.
Evan's heart pounded as she approached him. He felt an overwhelming awareness of her gaze on him, more so when she stopped right in front of him, her eyes sharp and cold.
"Everything here belongs to me," she said quietly, "This apartment, the furniture… everything." She tilted her head, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made him feel even smaller, even more exposed. "Including you."
The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and he felt a flush of shame rise to his face. Still, he couldn't pull his eyes away from her. She was beautiful, almost painfully so, and yet every part of her radiated an untouchable power.
"I… I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible.
Lila's expression didn't soften. Instead, her expression grew even colder. "Sorry?" she echoed, her tone sharp, dismissive. "Apologies mean nothing to me, Evan."
She took a step closer, her presence overwhelming. "If you can't respect what I give you, you don't deserve to keep it."
Evan swallowed hard, his mouth dry. "I… I didn't mean to…"
"Then maybe it's time I remind you what belongs to whom," she interrupted, her voice icy. Her eyes narrowed, and her next command took him completely off guard. "Take off your clothes."
He blinked, shock and confusion filling him. "What?"
She didn't waver. "You heard me," she said calmly, each word cutting through him. "Take off your clothes. They don't belong to you. Nothing here does."
Evan's breath hitched, a surge of panic and humiliation washing over him. He looked down, trying to avoid her, but he could feel her eyes on him, unwavering and expectant. She wasn't joking. This was a command.
"I… please…" he stammered, his voice trembling, but before he could say more, Lila's hand came down, a sharp slap across his face. The sound echoed in the quiet room, and he staggered back, his cheek burning. He could feel tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, but he forced himself to hold them back, knowing it would only make things worse.
"I said, take them off," Lila repeated, her voice colder now, sharper.
With shaking hands, Evan began to undress, each piece of clothing he removed feeling like another layer of his dignity stripped away. He felt her on him, watching his every movement, and the shame was almost unbearable. By the time he was standing naked in front of her, his entire body was trembling, not just from the cold air but from the intensity of her stare.
To his surprise, she didn't berate him. Instead, she looked him over, assessing, and for a fleeting moment, there was something in her eyes he couldn't quite decipher. A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and her voice softened, taking on an almost mocking tone.
"You're beautiful, Evan," she said simply. "It's quite a sight."
The compliment caught him off guard, and a blush crept up his neck, his cheeks flushing red. It had been so long since anyone had said anything kind about him—though he wasn't sure if Lila's words were kindness or another form of manipulation. But the confusion made him feel even more exposed, standing naked under her critical gaze, wondering what she truly thought.
She tilted her head, her focus drifting over him again, and he could feel himself under her scrutiny. "What's wrong, Evan?" she asked, feigning concern. "Are you embarrassed?" Her tone held a hint of mockery, but there was a strange warmth in her eyes that left him even more confused.
"Just… cold," he mumbled, looking away, his face still burning.
Lila's smirk deepened, and she gestured to the broken mess around them. "Well, if you're so cold, you'd better get moving. Clean this up."
Evan nodded, swallowing back the last of his pride as he knelt on the floor, feeling the chill of the hardwood against his skin. His hands shook as he began picking up the broken pieces of glass and debris, his body fully aware of her watching him. Every movement felt exaggerated, every scrape of his fingers against the floor a reminder of his own vulnerability.
He bent to pick up a large shard of glass, but his grip slipped, and the sharp edge cut into his palm. He hissed, jerking his hand back as blood began to well up from the cut. Before he could react, Lila was beside him, grabbing his wrist with a firm but cool grip.
Without a word, she lifted his hand and brought it close to her lips. To his shock, she ran her tongue over the cut, the sensation both soothing and utterly unnerving. "You keep breaking what's mine," she murmured, her voice low, almost a whisper. There was a strange gentleness to her tone, laced with a possessive edge that sent a shiver down his spine.
"I… I didn't mean to," he whispered, feeling a storm of emotions rising within him—shame, fear, and something else he couldn't quite name.
Lila's smile softened, almost amused.
"Get dressed. It's not fun if you're trembling the whole time."
Relieved, Evan scrambled to his feet, quickly pulling his clothes back on. His body ached with tension, his mind still reeling from the strange, unsettling encounter. He could still feel the burn of her touch on his skin, a reminder of the power she held over him.
Once he was dressed, he stood in front of her again, his head lowered, unsure of what she expected from him now.
Lila leaned back in the chair, crossing her legs with a calm authority. "You've made a mess of things, Evan," she said, her tone cold and measured. "But I'm willing to give you a chance to make up for it."
His heart pounded as he looked up, confused. "A… a chance?"
She nodded, as if she were offering him some grand favor. "You owe me a lot of money," she continued, her tone casual, almost dismissive. "But if you're useful, if you do something for me, I might be inclined to forgive a small part of it."
A chill ran through him at her words, and he had a sinking feeling he wasn't going to like whatever she had planned.
"There's a doctor," Lila said, her eyes narrowing slightly, "someone who may be getting too close to my brother, Kyle." Evan's pulse quickened at the name.
Kyle was a frequent topic at the restaurant, the subject of hushed conversations among staff and patrons alike. People spoke of him with a mixture of fear and disdain, describing him as a loose cannon, a man whose unpredictable temper made him dangerous. He was the eldest of the Crane siblings, and the rumors suggested he was always at odds with the chairman and Lila's other brother.
Evan couldn't pretend to understand the intricate web of power within the Crane family, but he knew enough to feel a chill at the mention of Kyle's name. He'd heard whispers about Kyle's methods—methods that involved intimidation and violence—and people who worked for the family spoke of him as if he were a storm that could descend at any moment, wreaking havoc on everything in its path. Even Lila, for all her power, seemed wary of him, though she never said it outright.
"You're going to follow him," Lila continued, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Watch him, report back to me. I want to know who he's meeting with, especially if it's Kyle. But you need to stay hidden. If he catches you, well… let's just say you won't like the outcome."
Evan stared at her, his mind reeling. Follow someone? Spy on them? He wasn't cut out for that. What if he got caught? What if—
"And if you get caught," Lila added, her voice suddenly cold again, "I won't save you. Nobody would believe you if you said my name, Evan. You're a nobody."
The words hit him harder than the slap had. Evan's stomach twisted into knots as the full weight of what she was asking settled in. If he got caught, he'd be alone. And if things went south, Lila wouldn't lift a finger to help him. He was completely at her mercy.
His mind raced, panic swelling in his chest. I can't do this. I don't know how to follow someone without being seen. I'm not like her. If something goes wrong, I'm the one who's going to pay the price.
But Lila wasn't done.
"If you do this well, I'll clear a portion of your debt," she said, as if offering him a lifeline. "Not much, but enough to make a dent. And if you keep doing well, you'll get more opportunities to reduce your debt."
Her smile faded, and her eyes sharpened. "Or, you could refuse. Stay here, work at the restaurant for the rest of your life. I don't mind either way. As long as you're mine, I'm having fun."
It wasn't really a choice. No matter what he picked, he was still trapped. His mind flashed back to the brothel, to the crushing debt, to Jason's betrayal.
His chest tightened, panic bubbling up again. But he forced himself to nod. He had no choice. He never had one.
Lila's smile returned, faint and amused. She stood up and stepped closer to him, her fingers brushing against his jaw. For a moment, Evan thought she was going to slap him again, but instead, she leaned in as if to kiss the cheek she had struck.
Instinctively, Evan flinched, jerking his head away. Lila paused, her eyes narrowing in faint amusement. Then, she let out a soft laugh, reaching up to tousle his hair like he was a child. "Cute," she murmured, before turning and walking out of the house, leaving him standing alone, still trembling.
Evan stood there long after she was gone, the quiet apartment feeling colder and emptier than ever. He wasn't sure what scared him more—the mission, or the fact that part of him was getting used to this.