Page 84 of Thor

I felt sick. They'd been watching us. Following us. My mind flashed to Thor's sanctuary, our private space away from everything. The place where I could be myself. Where we—

"I can't help you," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I just help with some basic accounting for legitimate businesses. I don't know anything about club operations."

He smiled again, that same cold expression. "That's not what we’ve observed. You and Eriksson in that back office for hours with those ledgers. The ones he wouldn't let anyone else touch."

My blood ran cold. They'd been watching that closely.

"I'd be careful with the denials, Miss Wright. They don't suit you." He reached for his phone, turned it over. "Especially given what we have."

I saw the photo before he could fully turn the screen toward me. It was from inside Thor's cabin – his sanctuary. Me, kneeling on the floor, wearing nothing but one of Thor's old t-shirts that barely covered my thighs, looking up adoringly as Thor sat in his handcrafted wooden chair. My hair in pigtails. A stuffed animal clutched to my chest. My Little side exposed, vulnerable, completely private.

"That's—" I couldn't finish.

"There are more," Viper said casually, swiping to another image. This one worse – Thor spanking me while I counted out loud, tears streaming down my face in that beautiful cathartic release that only he could give me.

"Stop," I whispered.

"Imagine your colleagues at Prestige Partners seeing these," he continued, his voice almost sympathetic now. "The rising star accountant, acting like a little girl for the Kings' enforcer. I imagine the partnership track would close rather quickly."

My career. My reputation. Everything I'd worked for.

"These are private," I managed, hating how my voice shook.

"Not any more," he corrected. "And there are dozens more. Your employers would be fascinated by the extracurricular activities of their trusted financial advisor."

I thought of Amy, my sister. Her treatments. The insurance that my job provided. Without my income, without my benefits—

"So here's what happens next," Viper said, sliding a small black burner phone across the table. "Weekly uploads of all their financial documents. Starting tomorrow. Otherwise, those charming photos go to every partner at Prestige."

I stared at the phone like it might bite me. "I can't betray them," I said, barely audible. "Thor would—"

"Thor would what?" Viper's eyes glinted. "Kill you? Beat you? Leave you? All likely outcomes if he discovered your betrayal. So don't get caught." I wasn’t going to say that, of course. I didn’t think Thor would ever beat me, no matter what I did. He might leave me, though.

Viper stood, smoothing his henley. "You have until tomorrow evening for the first upload. Instructions are programmed into the phone."

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice raw.

He paused, looking down at me with something almost like pity. "Club business, Miss Wright. Nothing personal. You just happened to be the perfect weak link."

As he walked away, I remained frozen, staring at the burner phone on the table. It sat there like a live grenade, ready to destroy everything I cared about no matter what I chose to do with it.

IstumbledoutofTheCopper Kettle with the burner phone burning a hole in my purse. My legs moved automatically, carrying me away from the café while my mind spun in useless circles. Each breath felt shallow, insufficient, like my lungs had shrunk to half their size. I needed space. Air. Time to think before facing Thor with what had just happened—with what I might be forced to do.

Ironridge Memorial Park wasn't far. My heels clicked against the sidewalk in an uneven rhythm that matched my chaotic thoughts. I'd lied to Thor this morning, telling him I had a meeting with Amy's doctor followed by research at the library—two places he wouldn't follow me, two excuses he wouldn't question. The lie had tasted bitter on my tongue even as I'd kissed him goodbye.

The park spread before me like a green sanctuary. Dogwoods and cherry trees bloomed in scattered bursts of white and pink. On any other day, their beauty might have soothed me. Today, I barely registered them as I searched for somewhere private.

I found a secluded bench tucked away behind a cluster of pine trees. No joggers. No dog-walkers. Just me and the impossible weight of what had happened. My knees gave out, and I sank onto the wooden slats, my professional facade crumbling now that I was alone.

My hands shook violently. Not just trembling—full-body shudders that seemed to start in my core and radiate outward. I couldn't control them, couldn't stop them. The fear had moved beyond my mind and taken over my body.

The burner phone felt toxic in my purse, like it might contaminate everything it touched. I pulled it out, staring at its cheap black plastic case. Such an unassuming object to destroy lives.

"Fuck," I whispered, the rare profanity inadequate but all I could manage.

The choices before me were impossible. Betraying the Kings would make me a rat—the worst thing possible in their world. I'd seen how the club treated traitors, heard Thor's stories about what happened to those who broke trust. And beyond the physical danger was the certainty of losing Thor forever. He would never forgive such a betrayal, never trust me again. The thought of seeing his love for me transform into hatred made me physically ill.

But refusing the blackmail meant professional destruction. Those photos—Thor spanking me, me in Little space with my stuffed animals, calling him Daddy—would end my career instantly. Prestige Partners was old-school, traditional, conservative. They'd fire me immediately for "moral turpitude" or some other bullshit corporate excuse. Years of sixty-hour weeks, of sacrificing everything for my career, all gone. And without my job, without my health insurance . . .

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