The prescribed outfit was soft. The skirt flowed to her knees. Elena stood in the foyer, the marble leeching warmth through her thin soles, waiting for her friend’s arrival. Her excitment barly held at bay by the presence of Mr. Thorn.

Liam Thorn stood just behind her, left shoulder, a solid presence in controlled stillness. His blue suit was immaculate, the bandage beneath his shirt barely visible. He didn’t look at her. His gaze was fixed on the grand oak doors, his expression the familiar, impenetrable mask. Yet something between them was different. The distance closer than before. His presence is warm.

Yet the silence between them was almost a wall. Until the wall was gone. Suddenly, his hand was resting on the arch of her back. Gently and unmoving. She stiffened and tensed up at his touch. It was so uninviting, yet pleasant. The warmth of his fingers, lightly held behind her back.

The doorbell chimed, a deep, sonorous note that seemed to travel up Elena’s spine. Making her jump.

Thorn pulled his hand back and moved. Not in a hurry, but with quick efficiency. He walked to the door and opened it himself.

Lisa stood on the threshold, a splash of vibrant color against the grey stone and stormy sky. Her black hair was streaked with electric blue and bright pink, hanging loosely over her shoulders and backpack. Her eyes went wide, taking in the soaring ceiling, the crystal chandelier, and the sheer scale of the entryway. “Holy shit, El,” she breathed, a grin spreading across her face. She then looked at Elena, and her eyes went wider. “Oh damn, I don’t think I’ve seen you wear something so cute in your life… What hunk got you to do that?”

Then her gaze landed on Liam. Elena watched it happen. Lisa’s assessing, appreciative look. The slight tilt of her head. The shift in her posture from awed tourist to engaged, flirtatious guest. “You must be Mr. Thorn,” Lisa said, stepping inside and extending a hand. “Elena’s talked so much about this amazing opportunity. I’m Lisa.”

“Liam Thorn,” he said, taking her hand, bringing it up to leave a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. The sight made Elena twitch. He was being really friendly towards her… His voice was that low, pleasant baritone he used for clients. “Welcome. Elena has been an invaluable addition.”

He released Lisa’s hand and placed his hands at his side. She forced a smile. “Lisa. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Are you kidding? This place is insane.” Lisa’s eyes darted around, missing nothing. “An internship? You hit the jackpot and didn’t even tell me the details!”

“It happened very quickly,” Elena said, the rehearsed lines feeling like ash in her mouth. “Mr. Thorn’s company already helps create support for emerging artists. My background and company were a perfect fit.”

“She’s modest,” Liam interjected, his hand secretly shifting behind Elena’s form from Lisa’s sight, his thumb making a slow, deliberate arc against her spine. “Her eye is exceptional. I knew I had to secure her exclusively.”

Lisa laughed, a bright, easy sound. “That sounds like Elena. Always the best, but never the braggart.” She looked at Liam, her gaze openly admiring. “And you’re, what, mentoring her? Personally?”

“Personally,” Liam confirmed, his blue eyes holding Lisa’s for a beat too long before returning to Elena. His hand remained. “Every aspect of her development is my priority.”

Elena stood between them, wearing the costume, speaking the lines, feeling the memory of his hand burn through the fabric. She saw her oldest friend seeing the beautiful, convincing lie, and the part of her that was still Elena Rossi quietly folded in on itself, becoming part of the scenery.

“Shall we give Lisa the tour?” Liam’s voice cut through the performance. He gestured toward the grand hallway leading deeper into the manor. “The grounds are particularly striking before a storm.”

Lisa beamed. “Lead the way, Mr. Thorn.”

Elena fell into step beside her friend, a silent ghost in her own life. Liam led them through the familiar spaces—the cavernous, book-lined library, the severe study with its monolithic desk, the formal dining hall with its table for twenty. He narrated with the detached precision of a museum docent. “The foundation’s archival collection,” he said in the library. Lisa oohed at the right moments, but her eyes kept drifting to the floor-to-ceiling windows and the darkening sky beyond.

“And outside?” Lisa prompted, her curiosity piqued.

Liam’s mouth curved into a faint, approving smile. “Of course.” Heading back downstairs, he opened a set of French doors Elena had never seen used, leading onto a wide stone balcony. The wind caught them immediately, carrying the scent of ozone and wet pine. Below, the land fell away to a slate-grey lake, its surface waving around from the approaching storm. Its size is much bigger than she had noticed from her window. Spanning miles across. She wouldn’t be surprised to find the lake connecting to the nearby Sea. Then she noticed a flagstone path winding down to a private dock, hidden from the view of her room, where a sleek, white, large sailboat strained against its lines. “The estate’s greatest asset is the view,” Liam said, his voice almost lost to a rumble of thunder.

Elena gripped the cold balustrade. She had seen this vista only from the high windows of her room. Here, exposed, the scale of his world—of her cage—was disappearing. The lake, the forest, the distant mountains, all his. Lisa leaned out, her colorful hair whipping around her face. “This is unreal. You get to look at this every day, El?”

She hadn’t. She didnt event think to look outside before. Before, she felt chained. Locked in her room, but thinking back, he never stopped her from exploring. The only restriction was the one time she started to move towards his personal quarters, and Presley stopped her and informed no individuals were allowed back there without his direct order.

Before Elena could form an answer, Liam was moving again, guiding them along a covered walkway that skirted the side of the manor. They turned a corner, and Elena stopped. Tucked against the house was a secluded courtyard. A rectangular pool, its water dark and stirred by the wind, flanked by a sunken hot tub that steamed defiantly into the cool air. Plush lounge chairs and a seating area under a large cantilevered umbrella stood ready, an oasis of leisure she never imagined existed here.

“A more casual amenity,” Liam said, his eyes on Elena’s face, watching her discovery. “Rarely used.”

Lisa laughed, walking over to dip her fingers in the hot tub. “Man, if I lived here, I’d be in this thing constantly. With a drink.” She looked back at Liam, her expression playful. “You ever have pool parties, Mr. Thorn?”

“The foundation has hosted benefactor events here,” he said, his gaze sliding from Lisa to Elena. “Elena will assist with the next one.”

The image of the swimsuit from Valerius went through her mind, its little coverage creating a pit in Elena’s stomach. Its purpose.

Lisa’s smile didn’t falter, but she seemed to register the tension thrumming in the air beside her. She looked at Elena, really looked, her playful glint softening into concern. “Are you okay? You’re quiet. Quieter than usual.”

Elena opened her mouth, a denial ready. But Liam spoke first, his voice a gentle, intrusive blanket. “The internship has been demanding. She pushes herself tirelessly. She has deserved this respite.” He took a step closer to Elena, not touching her, but his presence was a wall surrounding her. “Perhaps we should move inside. The rain is coming.”

With the statement of his words, a few fat, cold drops began to fall, splattering on the stone. Lisa nodded, pulled her jacket tighter, took the lead, and started to head inside. As they turned to retreat into the manor, Liam’s hand came to rest, light and inevitable, on the curve of Elena’s waist. A silent command. A claim. She walked beside him, feeling Lisa’s confused gaze on them, feeling the warmth of his hand pressing against her, guiding her inside.

Liam guided them back into the foyer, his hand leaving Elena’s waist only when Lisa turned to face them. “The conversation can continue over lunch,” he said, his tone shifting back to that of a gracious host. “I’ve had something prepared in the dining room. Lisa, I’d like to hear more about your work. Elena speaks highly of your creativity.”

Lisa’s eyes lit up, the invitation erasing her earlier concern. “I’m a graphic designer. Freelance. Mostly branding for indie bands and small galleries.” She followed him through an archway Elena hadn’t used, into a bright, sunlit room with a round table set for three. “It’s chaotic, but I love it.”

Elena took the seat Liam held out for her, the simple courtesy feeling like another layer of the performance. A uniformed staff member served a chilled soup and delicate sandwiches. Lisa dove into stories about difficult clients and last-minute deadlines, her hands painting shapes in the air. Liam listened, his gaze attentive, asking precise questions about software and market viability. He made it sound like a business meeting. He made it sound normal.

“And your personal life?” Liam asked, taking a sip of water. “Such a demanding schedule must leave little time for relationships.”

Lisa laughed, a little too brightly. “Oh, you know. Here and there. Nothing serious.” She glanced at Elena, a silent question in her look. “What about you, Mr. Thorn? This incredible house feels… very solo.”

“My focus is my work,” he said, his eyes sliding to Elena as Lisa looked away to take a bite. His glance returned before she looked up. “And the development of my investments. It requires singular attention.”

The word ‘investments’ landed on Elena’s skin like a physical touch. A hand slipping across her skin. She traced the rim of her water glass, the cool condensation wetting her fingertip. Lisa, emboldened by the wine she’d been poured, leaned forward. “So this mentorship. Is it, like, all work? Or do you two ever… unwind?”

The air in the room changed. It became still, charged. Liam set down his fork. “Elena is under considerable pressure to excel. Her dedication is commendable.” His voice was smooth, but the subtext was a wall around them. “I have noticed she does need direct guidance. She appears to need order. Routine. Clear boundaries.”

She thought about his words. She looked at Lisa, who was watching her, waiting for the friend she knew to say something sarcastic, to roll her eyes. Instead, she just watched, slowly sipping soup from her spoon.

Lisa’s playful smile finally faded. She looked between them, the dynamic now clear and unsettling. The charming boss, the silent protégé. The hand on the waist. The rehearsed answers. “Right,” Lisa said slowly. She pushed her plate away, her appetite gone. “Well. It sounds intense.”

Liam observed the shift, the crack in the facade of a pleasant visit. He didn’t seem displeased. He seemed… satisfied. “All meaningful things are, Lisa,” he said, standing. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to. Lisa, please enjoy your visit. I’ll leave the afternoon to yourselves.” He gave a curt, polite nod. “A pleasure, Lisa.”

He left, and the warmth of his presence disappeared. The room felt both emptier and heavier. The silence he left behind was filled by the drumming rain against the windows. Lisa stared at the doorway he’d vanished through, then turned to Elena. Her expression was stripped of all its earlier levity. “El,” she said, her voice low and serious. “What the hell is really going on here?”

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Elena said, the lie smooth and practiced now. She forced a small, tired smile. “A demanding internship with a brilliant, demanding man. I’m just… adjusting.” She traced the condensation on her glass, avoiding Lisa’s searching eyes. Then her mind thinking: Why did I say brilliant?

Lisa watched her for a long moment, then sighed, the tension leaving her shoulders. “Okay. Okay, sorry. I just… you’re so quiet. And he’s so intense. It threw me... But god is he H-O-T!” She pushed back from the table, her playful glint returning. “Can I see your room? I need to see where the magic—or the grinding pleasure—happens.”

“There’s no grinding pleasure, L.” Elena says, letting out a sigh. Using her nickname L when she felt she was being too ridiculous. Getting up from the table, Elena led her upstairs. Lisa’s gasp upon entering the suite was genuine. “Holy shit, El. This is a room? For an Intern? This is a penthouse!” She rushed to the wall of windows, pressing her hands against the glass. “This view. It’s like you’re living inside a painting. A stormy, terrifying painting based on the looks of the outside.” Sure enough, the storm outside appeared to be intensifying. Water coming down hard, clouds rumbling in the distance.

She disappeared into the bathroom, and Elena heard another, louder gasp and yelling from the attached bathroom. “A soaking tub? And this shower? It’s bigger than my kitchen!” Lisa popped her head back out, her eyes wide. “Okay, the internship is officially worth it. I don’t care how intense he is. You get to relax in here every day.”

Elena sat on the edge of the vast bed, the duvet impossibly soft under her hands. She felt the ghost of Liam’s thumb on her spine. “It’s just a room, Lis.” Shifting to her more normal nickname of use.

“It’s not just a room,” Lisa countered, flopping onto a plush armchair. She kicked off her shoes, tucking her feet beneath her. “It’s a statement. And so is he.” She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “So. Spill. There’s something there, right? Between you two? All that ‘singular attention’. That did not feel like just boss energy.”

Elena’s heart thumped once, hard. “It’s just professional. He’s my employer. That’s all.” The deflection came out more clear then she expected. She grasped for a new subject, directing it back to Lisa. “Tell me about the new gallery project you mentioned. The one with the neon installations. How’s the branding going?”

Lisa’s expression shifted, a flicker of something unusual crossing her face before she covered it with a bright smile. “Oh, it’s great! The client is a nightmare, wants everything to ‘vibrate with existential angst’ but also be ‘commercially viable.’ You know the type.” She launched into a detailed story about font choices and color theory, her hands sketching shapes in the air. The details, the frustrations. Elena listened, nodding in the right places, listening to her long story.

The two talked for hours. Sharing stories back and forth of clients, art, and Lisa talking about the guys, and girl, she recently had ‘expositions’ with. Art was the one topic the two could go on for hours. Though their tastes were different, with Elena favoring classical and older arts. Lisa loved the modern and vibrant designs, even enough to argue that most Graphiti should be legal. As long as it looked good enough.

Outside the rain intensified, sheeting down on the window and blurring the world outside into grey and green smears. Lisa’s story wound down. She looked at Elena, her gaze softening. “You love the actual art, El. It’s exactly the kind of raw, boundary-pushing stuff we used to hunt for.” The words ‘used to’ hung in the air, a quiet indictment.

“What makes you think i stoped?” Elena laughed. Lisa following in tandem.


“You can tell me, you know,” she said, her voice barely audible over the rain. “If there's something—

*BOOM* - A large crackling sound interrupted her from outside. Both of them looked out the window. The sky was dark the weather was bending and pushing the trees heavily. Lisa stood, walking back to the window. She watched the storm for a long, silent minute.

"It's getting bad," Lisa said, her breath fogging the glass. "I should probably head out before it gets worse."

Elena's hand shot out, gripping Lisa's wrist. "No. It's too dangerous. Driving up here in this?" She shook her head, the movement sharp. "I'll ask Mr. Thorn if you can stay."

Before Lisa could object, Elena ran out the door. Starting through the home she found him in his study. With a knock and the sound of a responce, she stepped into a room of work and silence. He looked up from a tablet, his blue eyes catching the low light. “The storm is dangerous.” He starts.

"Yes, thats why Im here. May she stay the night?" Elena stated, her voice measured. Though it wasn't comming accross as question.

Liam considered her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Of course. Hospitality is a given. I do not have a spare room, only servant quarters, which are not suited for a guest, so you will need to share your room with her." He set the tablet down. "I command you to join me for dinner. Eight o'clock. The dining room," he ordered. “Lisa is invited as well if she wishes.”

“Ok,” she instinctively let out. Letting a sigh of relief out. Feeling this would be much more difficult.

“No.” He interjected, causing her to stop her rotation towards the door. A questioning look spread across her face. “I think youve forgotten our agreement. Let this be your one warning; if it happens again, you will be punished.”

Recalling the verbal contract, she quickly stiffened. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry.” She said, slightly bowing her head.

“You’re dismissed. See you at dinner.” His tone showed a hint of appreciation.

Returning to her room, she told Lisa the news that she could stay and of the upcoming dinner plans. "Oh, a dinner date! I brought my bag and have something cute to change into! You gotta change too!” She said, skipping over to the wardrobe. Opening it up, she saw how bare it was. “Oh, I knew how minimalistic you are, but this seems like a new level…”

Lisa starts to rummage through the clothing. “The clients I meet are important, so i had to upgrade my wardrobe.” She quickly slipped out of the lie. “I didn’t have much money to buy nice things, so I aimed for what would be best.”

“What about your other clothing—” She cut herself off as she opened one of the draws in the wardrobe. Her eyes went wide looking into her underwear drawer. “W-what kind of clients do you handle? Ive never seen you in anything more then the plain granny panties and plan bras.”

“Ive never worn granny panties!” Elena quickly interjects.

“And youre still saying theres Nothing between you two?!?” Lisa askes full disbelief, crossing her face. “None of this is making sense, El.”

“Alright! I read an article that wearing sexy underwear would help me feel empowered. So I went and bought a bunch, and youknow, it’s working!” She scrounged together another lie. The feeling of all these lies is starting to make her feel horrible. Her frustraition of her lies is starting to anger her.

“Woah, Im sorry El!” Lisa quickly says, seeing Elena’s face turning red. “Here, let’s make you look cute.” Pulling out a pair of panties, she reaches back into the hanging clothing and pulls out a dress. The black one from Valerius. “Lets get dressed and look cute for our gracious host. We don’t have a lot of time, so let’s both shower together and help eachother quickly wash. There's definitely room in that big thing.”

The two girls hop into the shower and quickly wash up. Drying off, they dress into their outfits. Elena, after putting on her panties, puts on the black dress. Its corset front pressed up her breasts. Making them stand firmer than normal.

Lisa pulled out a red party dress. Its top having a even V-line with the gap down between the breasts, going straight up over the straps on her shoulder. The back revealing down to the center of her back. The skirt of the dress comming down to her knees. The arms had their own sleeves that were connected to the sides of the dress, but left the shoulders revealed, the sleeves a sheer fabric stretching down to a ring that looped over her middle fingers.

Both girls stood in front of the mirrors, having just finished putting on jewelry from the jewelry box in the bathroom. “Damn, we look amazing,” Lisa said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” she said, letting out a sigh of her own. The sight of the two of them, dressing up for her boss… Her warden. The man whos taken everything from her.

But has he? Here Lisa is, both a guest and under his care during this horrible storm. Shes not living in a cell. He’s given Elena a comfortable living situation, bought her clothing, and even protected her from a man with a knife. Is he really that bad? She thought to herself.

Walking into the dining room, Elena finds Liam Thorn already standing behind a chair, two spots prepared in front of him. One set on the otherside. Elena looked at him with surprise on her face. He was wearing something shed never seen before.

Liam had changed into a dark green sweater that softened the lines of his shoulders, his figure still standing strong. When he saw them both, his eyes opened in surprise, a full break in his normal poker faced facad. His attention shifted to Lisa. Looking over her form in the red dress.

“You both look beautiful.” He proceeds to pull out the chair in front of him. First letting Lisa sit, then pulling out the chair for Elena. Walking around the table, he sat down across from them.

Dinner was served: fresh-caught salmon, presented with a side of rice, and fresh steamed broccoli. Conversations flowed in and out of different topics. The entire time, Mr. Thorn seemed to be invested in Lisa. Getting to know about her graphic design work and projects. Photos being shared of her projects. Even going as far as to collect her phone and contact info so he could call on her if he found a need for her work.

He laughed at her jokes and comments, a low, warm sound that Elena had never heard. Relaxing her. He refilled Lisa's wine glass himself, and the attention stayed mostly on her, the conversation bouncing between the two.

Elena sat in the black dress, its fabric whispering against her skin, leaving a reminder of its purchase and of him. She traced the stem of her wine glass, the edge of her finger rubbing with its own soft ring. She continued to eat, while the two conversed away. She felt like she was furniture. An accessory. Just an item in the room. Maybe just an "investment", and she was the backdrop. Every time Lisa laughed, a hot, sharp coil tightened in Elena's stomach.

Desert was brought out, a fresh sorbet with fresh cookies. Lisa looking to Elena with a glance of excitement.

"You have a fascinating mind, Lisa," Liam said, leaning back in his chair, his gaze appreciative. "Chaotic, but brilliant. It's a rare combination. I can see why you and Elena are such great friends.” Elena snapped out of her own head at the mention of her name, barely listening to the conversation.

Lisa flushed, waving a hand. "It's just messing with pixels. Elena's the one with the real eye. She could look at a blank canvas and tell you the artist's soul." She turned to Elena, an offering. "Right, El?"

Liam's eyes slid to Elena, finally. They held no warmth, only assessment. "Elena does have an amazing eye for art. The clients she has with her business have work that is shown to help bring great forward, wonderful pieces of work, and are promising artists.” He turned back to Lisa. "Tell me about this gallery client. The one who wants to 'vibrate with existential angst.'"

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

Later, back in Elena’s bedroom, the two proceeded to strip out of their dresses. Lisa sees Elena’s new nightwear, bites her tongue, and just gives her an eye, giving her the silent message, ‘These outfits!’

Lying in the large bed, Lisa hugged her tight. "He's amazing, El. Seriously. Intense, but… he gets it. He listens." She pulled back, her eyes bright with wine and admiration. "You're lucky."

The words were a knife. If only she knew. Elena forced a smile. "Get some sleep, Lisa." The silence of the manor returned. The soft breathing of Lisa laying in the bed next to her. Her head was racing through the events of dinner. How ignored she felt, the attention Lisa always got.

Unable to sleep, she sat up. Looking around the quiet room. The storm outside is still roaring.

*Bzzt Bzzzt* Her phone vibrates. She picked up her phone from the desk. A message waiting. Liam Thorn: You were beautiful tonight. I’ll have to personally thank you later for an amazing evening.