Chapter 3 The First Glimpse

(Late evening, Ward Enterprises – Penthouse Level)

The office was quiet. Everyone had left for the night. Layla sat alone at her sleek glass desk, the faint glow of the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. Her fingers moved over the last few emails, but her mind wasn't on the work in front of her. The digital clock blinked 8:47 p.m. - too late to be at the office, but not late enough to leave yet. Not tonight.

She knew the rule. Dominic had made it clear-no staying past 8 p.m. It wasn't just a policy. It was an order. His voice rang in her head, a deep command that she usually obeyed without question. But tonight... tonight, she couldn't bring herself to leave. Something lingered in the air. Something unspoken, hanging like the anticipation of a storm.

Her fingers hovered above the keyboard for a moment before she clicked open yet another email, her mind drifting.

She glanced toward the window, the city lights twinkling below, as if taunting her. There was a hum in the background, soft and distant, like the vibrations of the building itself settling into the night. But then, another sound-more distinct-reached her ears. It was faint at first, but it grew louder, more resonant, a low and constant hum that seemed to have an almost hypnotic quality to it.

Her breath caught as she tried to place the sound. It wasn't the usual hum of the building's HVAC system or the city noises from the streets below. No, this was different. It was like music, but not quite. A strange, ambient sound... punctuated by something else. Something almost... human?

Curiosity-more than anything-pulled at her. She stood, her heels clicking softly on the marble floor as she moved toward the hallway. Her steps were deliberate, controlled, but there was a tension in her movements. As if she already knew something was off. The sound seemed to be coming from somewhere deeper within the penthouse, beyond her usual reach. A place she had never ventured before.

She walked toward the hallway, her fingers brushing the smooth surface of the walls as if for balance, as if keeping herself tethered. When she reached the end of the hall, her eyes fell on a door slightly ajar-a door that she had never seen before. It wasn't the kind of door that she would typically have overlooked. This one was different. Its frame was heavy, rich wood, its handle ornate and polished, reflecting the light in a way that made it almost shimmer.

It wasn't the kind of door that would be left unlocked. Not in this building.

Her hand hovered over the handle, her curiosity gnawing at her. She hesitated, glancing over her shoulder to make sure she was truly alone. There were no footsteps, no signs of movement, nothing. Just the persistent, pulsing hum of the sound growing louder.

Just a peek, she thought, her fingers curling around the door handle.

Her pulse quickened as she pushed it open just enough to peer inside. The room was dim, shrouded in soft crimson light. The air was thick with the scent of leather and musk, the faintest hint of something rich and intoxicating.

A velvet chaise lounge rested in one corner of the room, surrounded by shelves filled with antique books. The room exuded an old-world charm that made it feel both timeless and strangely intimate. But then her eyes traveled to the far wall. There, illuminated in the low light, were rows upon rows of locks, leather restraints, and other unfamiliar instruments. Polished, gleaming, as though they had been crafted with purpose-no, with art.

A shiver ran down her spine as the low hum of the sound became clearer. It was unmistakable now-breathy, soft, laced with desperation.

Her breath caught in her throat as she leaned forward, her heart pounding in her chest.

And then, she saw him.

Dominic was sitting in a high-backed chair, his posture perfect, commanding. His legs were spread apart, his arms resting on the chair's arms, fingers gripping the wood with quiet strength. He was a picture of control, of power. In front of him knelt a woman-clad in a simple dress, but positioned in such a way that there was no question about the role she was playing. She was vulnerable, on her knees, but she wasn't just submissive-there was a sense of purpose in her every movement.

"Tell me what you want," Dominic's voice cut through the silence, low and smooth, a command.

The woman's voice trembled, but she didn't hesitate. "I want your control, Sir."

Layla's breath caught in her throat. The words hung in the air, charged with an energy that Layla could feel even from this distance. Her body reacted before her mind could process. She was rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to look away. There was something... intoxicating about the scene before her. It wasn't just the woman's submission-it was Dominic's mastery, the way he commanded the space, the way his presence filled every inch of the room.

Dominic's hand moved with deliberate slowness to the woman's chin, lifting it gently. His fingers were soft, tender, but there was an undeniable authority in his touch.

"And you'll obey?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper, but filled with undeniable weight.

"Yes, Sir," the woman replied, her voice trembling, filled with a mixture of desire and fear.

Dominic leaned down slightly, his lips brushing against her ear. Layla couldn't hear the words, but she could see the effect they had. The woman's body shivered, her breath coming in soft, desperate gasps. And then, there was a sound-a low, desperate moan.

Layla's chest tightened. She felt the woman's surrender in her own bones. This wasn't just physical-it was something deeper. A connection built on power, on dominance, and on trust. It was raw and real.

The woman reached for Dominic's belt. Her hand moved with a certain familiarity, an urgency that Layla couldn't quite comprehend.

And then-

A floorboard creaked beneath her foot.

Dominic's head snapped up instantly. His eyes locked on hers through the small crack in the door. Time seemed to freeze. His gaze was not one of anger, nor of surprise. No. It was filled with something darker-something powerful. His eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable.

Layla's breath hitched in her chest. Her heart thundered in her ears. She was caught. Caught in the act of spying. Caught in a moment she should not have witnessed.

But she didn't run. She didn't retreat.

"Layla," Dominic's voice came, calm but commanding, like the low rumble of thunder before the storm. It was impossible to ignore.

She stepped back for just a moment, her pulse racing, but then, almost against her will, she pushed the door open further.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," she said, her voice steady, but there was a slight tremble that she couldn't control. Her knees were shaking beneath her, her body at war with itself.

Dominic rose slowly, deliberately, his movements predatory. He stepped toward her, the air between them thickening with every inch. The woman in the room had disappeared into the shadows, silent and obedient, vanishing as if she had never been there at all.

"I told you not to linger," Dominic said, his voice low, controlled, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.

Layla didn't flinch. Her lips curled into a small, almost playful smile. "You didn't say anything about locked doors." She tilted her head, her voice sharp and confident. "Curiosity is part of my job, remember?"

Dominic stopped in front of her, inches away. He was so close she could feel the heat of his body, the intensity of his presence.

"There are parts of me you're not ready to see," he said, his voice a warning. A promise.

Layla tilted her chin, meeting his gaze. "Then show me."

For a moment, the air hung between them, thick and charged. Neither spoke. Neither moved. It was as if the world around them had fallen away.

Dominic reached out slowly, his fingers brushing under her jaw, the touch light but filled with an intensity that made her heart race.

"Careful, Layla," he murmured, his voice soft but deadly. "You keep testing me... and you might find yourself wanting more than you bargained for."

And just like that, he walked away.

Layla exhaled sharply, her chest rising and falling with every breath. Her heart was still pounding, her body still humming with the energy of the moment. The line had been crossed. And yet, a part of her was drawn to cross it again.

She stood there for a long time, her body frozen in the aftermath of what she had seen. What had just happened?

She didn't know. But she couldn't forget it. And she didn't want to.