The collar arrived on a Tuesday.
It came in a black velvet box, delivered by a silent assistant who left it on Lila’s desk without a word. No note. No explanation. Just the box, cool and mysterious, sitting on her keyboard like a dare.
She stared at it for a long time.
It was slim. Black leather. A single silver loop at the front. No name tag. No key. Just simplicity and control.
Her fingers brushed over it. Her thighs clenched.
She didn’t open it until she was alone.
That night, long after everyone else had gone home, she carried the box into Julian’s office. The lights were dimmed. He stood near the window, as always, watching the city like it belonged to him. His shirt sleeves were rolled to his elbows again. His tie hung loose around his neck.
She cleared her throat softly. “Sir
