Mr. Thorn finally leaned back, the chair shifting beneath him as he folded his hands on the edge of the table. "I hope you're hungry, Lisa. Marta has been in that kitchen since noon."

Lisa's eyes lit up at the thought of food. "I could eat a horse. Graphic design deadline diet — coffee and spite for three days straight." She shot Elena a grin. "You're sooo lucky you get real food here."

Elena opened her mouth to answer, but the kitchen door swung open before she could get the words out.

Marta emerged carrying a large wooden tray, steam rising from the plates arranged across it. One held neat rows of salmon nigiri, another held shrimp, pink and curled at the edges. A smaller bowl held pickled ginger and wasabi, its sharp scent cutting through the air.

"Ah, here she is," Liam said, his voice softening in a way Elena hadn't heard before. "Marta, this is Miss Lisa Chen. Elena's friend."

Marta set the tray down with a solid click, wiped her hands on her apron, and extended one toward Lisa.

“A pleasure. I’ve heard so much about you. You’re the one who does the graphic work, yes?”

Lisa shook her hand.

“I saved some of my special yuzu kosho for the salmon. Tell me if it’s too much heat.” Marta released her hand and pointed toward the dishes. “Soy sauce there, ginger there. Eat while it’s warm. Sushi waits for no one.”

Lisa reached for a piece of salmon nigiri with her chopsticks, dipping it lightly in soy sauce before taking a bite.

Her eyes widened. “Oh my god. Marta, this is incredible. The yuzu—it’s like a punch in the best way.”

She swallowed and grinned at Elena. “You've been holding out on me! After all those ramen nights, you never mentioned you had a personal chef who makes sushi like this.”

Elena forced a smile, the corners of her mouth tight. "Marta's been feeding me well. I told you the food was good." Her voice came out thinner than she intended, and she reached for her wine glass to cover it. The burgundy liquid caught the candlelight, and she watched Liam's reflection in the curve of the glass as he turned toward Lisa again.

“Tell me more about your graphic design work,” Liam said, his tone easy, almost warm. He set down his chopsticks and leaned forward slightly. “Elena mentioned you're freelance. What kind of projects do you typically take on?”

Lisa launched into a description of her latest branding project for a local brewery—labels, social media assets, a website redesign. She gestured with her chopsticks as she talked, her voice animated and unguarded.

Liam listened, nodding along and asking questions about the design process, the client's vision, and the budget. He seemed genuinely interested in her answers.

Elena watched them from the edge of her seat, her fingers tightening around the stem of her glass. The black dress clung to her skin, suddenly making her too aware of herself.

This was supposed to be a job. She was here to work off Marco's debt. So why did watching Liam take such an interest in Lisa bother her?

“You've got a sharp eye,” Liam said.

When Lisa laughed at a dry comment about a client who wanted “more pop but less color,” he laughed with her, a low, genuine sound that sent an unexpected twist through Elena's stomach.

He reached for the wine bottle and refilled Lisa's glass without being asked.

“Do you usually take on clients outside your city, or do you prefer staying local?”

“I sometimes take cases from other cities or regions, but it depends on the work, and of course there is an extra fee if I need to travel,” Lisa says with a smile.

"I might have some work for you down the line. I would like to keep your contact information if you would be okay with that."

Lisa's grin widened. “Sure thing. I'll send you my portfolio. Fair warning—I charge rush fees if you want something in under a week.”

She nudged Elena's foot under the table, a silent hey, this is great, but Elena barely noticed. Her gaze remained fixed on the condensation pooling around her wineglass, cold water beading against the crystal before slipping down the stem.

She was an investment. Liam had made that clear from the beginning.

He laughed at Lisa’s jokes, a low, warm sound Elena had never heard from him before. He refilled Lisa’s wineglass without being asked, his attention lingering on her as their conversation flowed easily between them.

Elena tightened her fingers around her own glass. She released it a moment later and lowered her gaze to her plate, forcing herself to take another bite.

The black dress brushed against her skin when she shifted in her chair, reminding her who had chosen it for her.

She kept eating while Lisa and Liam talked, pretending not to notice how often he looked at Lisa or how easily Lisa drew his attention, and each time Lisa laughed, something twisted in Elena’s stomach.

Dessert was brought out, a fresh sorbet with fresh cookies. Lisa looked at 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 blinked, pulled back into the present 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 can look at a painting for five seconds and tell you the artist's soul." She turned to Elena, an offering. "Right, El?"

Liam's gaze settled on Elena as she glanced up, catching his eyes on her for a moment. His expression was unreadable, and she could only assume he was assessing her—her posture, her manners, whether she was paying attention.

She looked back down at her plate before the moment could become anything more.

“Elena does have an amazing eye for art,” Liam said. “Her business has clients producing work that's starting to gain real attention.”

He turned back to Lisa, continuing the conversation as though nothing had happened.

Elena pushed back from the table, the legs of her chair scraping against the hardwood. Lisa was already on her feet, stretching her arms above her head with a groan.

"God, I'm stuffed. That was incredible." Lisa grinned, patting her stomach. "I think I ate for three people."

Elena forced a smile, her eyes flickering to Liam. He remained seated, one hand resting on the table, his gaze still on Lisa. The attention curdled in Elena's stomach. Liam's eyes met hers for a fraction of a second. But all she was was his investment.

But none of it reached her anymore. Not the jokes, not the warmth, not even the way he said her name. She wasn’t part of it.

Lisa waved at him. "Thanks for dinner, Mr. Thorn. Seriously. Best meal I've had in—" she laughed, "—maybe ever."

"Liam," he corrected, his voice smooth. "And you're welcome, Lisa. I'm glad you could stay."

They left the dining room and stepped into the main hall. The old wood creaked beneath their feet, and the single lamp cast a dim yellow circle across the floor, leaving the rest of the hall in shadow. Elena's heels clicked against the polished boards with every step. She wished she could take them off.

Lisa waited until they reached the bottom of the grand staircase before lowering her voice.

"Your boyfriend is hot," Lisa said, low and teasing, as they climbed the grand staircase. "Like, stupid hot. The kind of hot where you forget your own name."

Elena's jaw tightened. "He's not my boyfriend."

“Right. Your boss. Who lives with you?”

Lisa bumped her shoulder as they stepped away from the dining room.

“I don’t know—this might sound weird, but he was listening to me without really listening. It felt like he was watching me more than following the conversation. Like he was paying attention because he needed to, not because he was interested.”

She glanced back toward the dining room.

“And every so often, I’d catch him looking at you. Just for a second. Then he’d look away like nothing happened.” Lisa’s brow furrowed as she hesitated and lowered her voice. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m reading too much into it. Something just felt… off.”

Elena didn't respond. That wasn't what she'd seen. Liam had been attentive to Lisa from the moment they'd sat down. He'd asked questions, listened to her answers, laughed at her jokes. He'd seemed more engaged than Elena had ever seen him during a conversation that wasn't about business.

She swallowed hard, forcing the image to settle. She didn’t trust her voice to argue it aloud. Something tight and hot coiled in her stomach again.

They reached the second-floor landing. The hallway stretched ahead, lined with closed doors and faded portraits. They both walked to the room at the far end, pushed the door open, and stepped inside. Elena’s large bed dominated the space, dressed in fresh new white linens and a thick duvet. A lamp on the nightstand glowed soft amber.

Lisa followed, letting out a long sigh. "Finally. I was dying to get out of this dress." She kicked off her heels—thud-thud—and started unzipping her dress. "God, that's better."

Elena stood by the door for a moment, her arms crossed. The storm outside was building—wind rattled the windows, and a distant rumble of thunder rolled across the sky.

“So,” Lisa said, pulling her dress off her shoulders and stepping out of it, “what’s the deal with you two? I’m curious. There’s got to be more to it than just boss and employee.”

"It's complicated."

"Complicated how?" Lisa's tone was light, but her eyes sharpened. "Complicated as in you actually like him, or complicated as in you're in over your head?"

Elena's throat tightened. “He’s complicated. I’m still trying to figure him out." She turned and walked to her wardrobe.

She reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a pair of pajamas, taking them into the bathroom. The soft, familiar fabric slid over her skin as she changed. When she looked in the mirror, her stomach tightened. Even now, she was wearing something Mr. Thorn had chosen for her.

Lisa's eyes dropped to the pajamas, then lifted back to Elena's face. A smile tugged at one corner of her mouth.

Elena sighed. “Don't. I already know what you're thinking.”

“I wasn't going to say anything. I was just looking.”

“That ‘look' says otherwise.”

“I just like the pajamas. What's wrong with appreciating a nice pair of pajamas?”

Elena glanced down at herself. “They're just pajamas.”

Lisa looked at them again. “They're definitely nicer than anything I've ever seen you sleep in.”

Elena folded her arms. “They're comfortable. That's all.”

“Uh-huh.” Lisa's smile widened. “Comfortable. Got it.”

Elena rolled her eyes. “You are impossible.”

“What?” She held up her hands, laughing. “I'm innocent.”

Elena walked past her, back into her room. Lisa padded after her, and they both climbed onto the large bed. The storm was getting louder—rain began to lash against the glass, a steady drumbeat. The wind howled through the eaves.

Lisa settled onto her side, propping herself up on an elbow. "So. Tell me everything."

"There's nothing to tell," Elena said, pulling the duvet up to her chest. The silk whispered against the sheets. "I work for him. I live here. That's it."

“Bullshit.” Lisa’s voice was soft, but firm. “Not about the job. You’ve just been weird about him ever since I got here.”

Elena looked away. “I don't know what you mean.”

Lisa watched her for a moment, the teasing expression fading from her face. “Maybe I don't either. There's just something about all of this that feels weird.”

Elena gave a small shrug. “It's a weird situation.”

“I know.” Lisa pulled the duvet higher over her shoulder. “I just mean... you seem different.”

Elena glanced at her.

“Not bad different,” Lisa added quickly. “Just... not quite you.”

Elena was quiet for a moment. There was no easy answer to that, so she settled for the one she could give.

“I’m okay, Lis.”

Lisa studied her face. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Elena managed a small smile. “I'm sure.”

Lisa held her gaze for another second before finally nodding. “Okay.” She settled back against the pillow, though Elena could tell she wasn't completely convinced. “If you ever aren't, though... you tell me.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Lisa nodded, apparently satisfied. “Good.”

Elena let out a quiet breath and looked toward the window. Rain streaked the glass, blurring the lights outside into pale smears.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

Then Lisa's mouth curved into a grin. “Because I already hate your boss.”

Elena laughed softly. “You met him for one afternoon.”

“Exactly.” Lisa rolled onto her side, facing her. “And I'm very efficient.”

Elena's heart squeezed. There it was. The thing she'd been afraid of. Lisa's attraction to Liam. The way she'd laughed at his jokes, the way she'd leaned into his attention.

"Oh, don’t worry. He's not my type," Lisa added, almost as an afterthought. "Too intense. I like 'em fun."

"He's not that intense," Elena said, but her voice was hollow.

Lisa snorted. "Babe, he looked at you like he was going to eat you alive. And you looked at him like you wouldn't mind."

Elena's face burned. "I did not."

"Did too." Lisa shifted, turning toward her. "When he said we looked beautiful tonight, you literally blushed. It was adorable."

Elena shook her head. Her throat felt tight. He had said it earlier, when they arrived. A simple compliment, shared between them both. She had barely thought about it since.
So why did she suddenly remember feeling her cheeks warm when he said it?

"I think I've had enough for tonight," Elena said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Can we get some sleep?"

"Sure." Lisa yawned, settling deeper into the pillow. "Gotta be ready for whatever amazing breakfast Marta has for us in the morning."

Elena smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. She reached over and switched off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness shot through with flashes of lightning. Thunder rolled again, closer now. The storm was directly above them.

She lay on her side, facing away from Lisa. She could hear Lisa's breathing even out within minutes—steady, deep. Asleep. Elena's own body felt wired, every nerve alive. She stared at the dim shapes of the furniture, the rain sluicing down the window, the shadows that seemed to move.

She thought about dinner. The way Liam's eyes had lingered on Lisa. Not hungry. Not predatory. Just… watching. Paying attention in a way that made her skin tighten. And Lisa had basked in it. Laughed. Leaned in. Talked for what felt like hours. And Elena had sat there in the black dress Liam had chosen, saying almost nothing.

She hated that it was there at all. She had no right to it. Liam wasn't hers. He was the man who owned her contract. He was the contract. The rule she lived inside. The reason she couldn’t decide what anything meant anymore.

The storm pressed on. The wind screamed. A crash of lightning split the sky, and for a moment the room was white. Elena's pulse jumped.

She reached for her phone on the nightstand. Just to check the time. The screen glowed, and she saw a notification. A message from a number she'd saved as "Thorn."

Her thumb hovered. Then she swiped it open.

The words were simple. They burned:

“You were beautiful tonight. I’ll thank you properly later.”

Elena's breath caught. The phone trembled in her hand. The storm raged. The rain hammered. But all she could feel was the heat spreading through her chest, her stomach, lower.

She looked at the message again. Her thumb moved, but she didn't type anything. She just stared at the words, the cold promise of "later" hanging in the dark.

Outside, the thunder rolled. And Elena lay awake, the phone still lit in her hand, the storm inside her louder than the one outside.