I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back on my knees in that warm amber room. The weight of Dominic’s hand in my hair. The low timbre of his voice telling me I didn’t have to be enough. The terrifying relief that had settled so deeply into my bones, I could still feel it hours later.

I rolled over for the hundredth time and stared at the ceiling. You chose this. His words kept repeating in my head like a quiet command I couldn’t silence. Part of me wanted to hate how easily he had slipped inside my mind. The other part kept replaying the moment he’d pulled me against his chest, craving that rare feeling of safety again.

By the time morning light filtered through my curtains, I felt raw and exposed. Like I had left pieces of myself at The Crimson Veil.

Downstairs, the familiar sounds of breakfast greeted me, mom humming softly, the clink of bowls, the rustle of Dad’s newspaper. Everything was normal. Everything that used to ground me. Today, it felt heavy.

“Good morning,” Mom said, placing a plate of eggs with toasts in front of me with a warm smile. “Long night?”

I forced a smile and picked up my fork.

“You went out last night.” His tone was mild, but I knew that voice. It was the one he used when he was already putting pieces together. “And you look like you didn’t sleep much.”

I busied myself pouring a glass of water. “I needed some air. Sorry.”

He folded a corner of the newspaper down, studying me. “You’ve been tired a lot lately, distracted. Even your posture is different this morning. Your shoulders a little tighter than usual.”

My fork froze for a second. Of course, he would notice something so small. I forced myself to take another bite, hoping he couldn’t see how hard my heart was beating.

“I have a lot on my mind with school,” I said quietly. “That’s all.”

Dad didn’t push further, but I felt his gaze linger on me throughout breakfast. Every time I looked up, he was watching, not angry, just quietly observant. The guilt sat thick in my throat.

************************

I met Sophia and Emily after my afternoon lecture. We claimed our usual corner table at the café. Sophia immediately leaned in with a mischievous grin.

“You went back, didn’t you?” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows. “You have that ‘I did something thrilling and I’m scared I liked it’ face.”

I gave a small, reluctant smile. “I did go back. It was… intense. But I’m still processing it. I don’t really want to go into details yet.”

Sophia pouted but accepted it. Emily, however, stayed quieter. She watched me across the table with gentle concern.

“Jas,” she said softly when Sophia stepped away for a moment, “You can talk to us if it’s getting too much. Just… be careful, okay? This feels like it’s moving really fast.”

I traced the rim of my cup. “I’m being careful,” I murmured, even though I wasn’t sure I believed it anymore. “It’s just new. And it feels… good. To have someone actually see me for once.”

Emily sighed. She didn’t look convinced, but she let it go. The conversation moved on, but I couldn’t shake the unease Emily’s words left behind. After we said goodbye, I decided to walk home instead of taking the bus. I needed the fresh air and the time to clear my head.

The late afternoon sun was warm on my skin, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the private lounge. To the way Dominic had said “You chose this” like it was both a gift and a claim. Every few minutes I found myself touching my wrist where the leather bracelet used to sit. The absence of it felt strangely wrong now.

I tried to focus on practical things, the care plan I still needed to finish tonight, the upcoming clinical exam, my responsibilities, but the memories kept pulling me under. The quiet he gave me was addictive and dangerous. And the worst part was how much I already wanted more of it.

By the time I turned onto my street, the sky had begun to darken. I felt both exhausted and strangely restless, like my body was waiting for something it shouldn’t want. When I stepped inside the house and hung up my coat, something small slipped out of the inner pocket and fluttered to the floor. A cream-colored card. The handwriting was sharp, elegant, and unmistakably his.

Next time, wear your hair down. Leave the top button of your blouse undone. You looked beautiful on your knees. I wonder what else you’ll choose to show me.

I stared at the note, heat rushing to my face. My fingers trembled slightly as I folded the card and quickly hid it deep in my desk drawer before heading downstairs for dinner. He hadn’t given the bracelet back. Somehow, that made the note feel even more intimate.

During dinner, I tried my best to act normal. But my mind kept drifting back to the note. To his instructions. To the way he had told me I was perfect when I obeyed. Dad set his chopsticks down slowly. He looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable but heavy with quiet concern.

“Jasmine,” he said, voice calm and low. “You’ve barely said two words tonight. And you keep touching your wrist even though there’s nothing there.”

I froze as he watched me, patient and knowing.

“I’m here when you’re ready to talk,” he added quietly. “Whatever it is.”

The air felt thick. I nodded without speaking, afraid my voice would betray me. But inside, the guilt and the pull toward Dominic warred stronger than ever.