Page 22 of The Secretary Volume II

I know I am.

Ellis likes that.

The gates slide open before we even reach them.By the time the car stops in front of the house, the door is already open.

He’s waiting.

I’m not sure why.Ellis always gets what he wants.

I step out, smoothing my dress with careful hands.

He doesn’t greet me.He just watches, relaxed and composed, like a man who doesn’t question how the night will end.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”

“I didn’t know I had a choice.”

That makes him smile.“You didn’t.”

Inside, nothing is out of place.The lighting is low, soft music curling through the air—something curated, something designed.No different than everything else in his world.

The staff is there but not there.A shadow in the periphery.A woman in uniform lingers at the edge of the hallway, her gaze carefully averted.

Ellis leads me into the dining room.Two plates.Two wine glasses.A meal laid out as if this were a date.

We both know it isn’t.

He pours the wine himself, slow and deliberate.

“Do you know why you’re here, Gillian?”

I should.

I don’t.

His eyes flicker, amused.He sees the hesitation.He likes it.

I test him.“You said you missed me.”

A smirk.“Did I?”

I lift my glass.“Didn’t you?”

His lips twitch.He enjoys this.The pretense, the unraveling.

I play along.It’s easier that way.Safer.

“You’ve been distracted,” he says, swirling his wine.“Forgetting things.”

The words settle between us.Heavy.Pointed.

I know what he’s doing.

I’ll play his games.But not that one.

“I remember this.”I gesture at the table.“Dinner.Wine.You like red, but not too dry.”

Ellis’s gaze sharpens.

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