Page 172 of Their Arrangement

The driver doesn’t speak when I step into the car. He never does. The windows tint as we pull into traffic. Standard protocol.

The laptop is already on my seat. I open it. She’s halfway to work now. Crosses the street at the light. The intersection camera catches it—a smear of lipstick on her teeth. She doesn’t notice.

I exhale through my nose.

Not laughter.

Just… somethingclose.

She walks like she wants to disappear. But the sidewalk doesn’t let her. She’s visible now. To more than me. That’s the part I hate. That’s the part I can’t control.

When I arrive at the building, the security team nods. I don’t return it. My eyes are on the elevator feed. She’s already inside. Fidgeting with the strap of her heel.

Left foot.

She can’t reach it.

The clasp is crooked.

I step into the elevator three floors down. Calculate the timing. When I step out, she’s just ahead. Bag slung over her shoulder. Hair twisted.

She walks three steps?—

Stops.

The strapslips.

And the hallway holds its breath.

There are at least six people watching. They say nothing. They don’t move. But they feel it. The shift. The moment. And I? I walk straight to her.

Ikneel. Not quickly. Not performative. Not as if it’s routine. But slow.Intentional. A man tying his name to someone else’s body with a single flick of his fingers.

I fix the strap. Smooth the leather. Press her ankle lightly. And then I look up. Her mouth is parted. Breath caught. Everyone is watching.

But her eyes?

Only on me.

“Next time,” I murmur, just for her, “you ask me to do it before it breaks.”

She doesn’t nod.

But her knees almost buckle.

I work. Watch. But the day means nothing. Nothing but meetings I’m not interested in and men in suits I no longer see.

I only see her.

And when I can’t stand that coiling tension inside me anymore, I rise. Close my laptop and leave.

She’s working, head down, a tiny furrow of concentration between her brows. My pulse kicks at the sight and my cock grows hard.Fuck.

I leave quietly, slipping away like I wasn’t here at all. No one is going to miss me, just like they don’t see me. A ghost wrapped in darkness. One I’ve been my entire life.

The driver pulls upbehind her apartment building. I issue a command and climb out. All I’m focussed on now is the door to her apartment, and the faint trace of her she left behind.

She left the window unlocked again.