The invitation came in the form of a text message.
“Gala. Tonight. Black dress. No panties. You’ll sit beside me.”
No greeting. No signature. Just an order.
Lila stared at her phone, pulse hammering. She reread the words three times, her thighs clenching each time. No panties. The thought alone made her breath hitch. She could barely focus the rest of the day.
By six, she stood in her apartment wearing a black silk gown that hugged her like skin. It dipped low in the back, high in the slit. Her heels were tall. Her neck bare—until she buckled the collar around it.
She’d polished the silver loop in the center. Not out of vanity, but reverence. It meant something now. It meant she was his.
A sleek black car arrived right on time. She climbed in, legs bare beneath the slit, heart poundi
