Several days had passed, and I kept catching myself staring at the monitors at night—those showing her apartment. Showing her.It was time. Deep down I knew it.
My contact had given the signal only minutes earlier. The suite was silent—a perfectly staged set. I had prepared everything. Cameras. Bag. USB stick. Everything was ready.
And there she was.
The main actress of this piece.
The soft click of the door betrayed her entry. The tiny cameras, barely larger than a pinhead, captured every inch of the suite in crystal-clear resolution. She had come. Just as I'd planned. I knew it was only a matter of time before she would take that step. I would've done the same.
The maid uniform was a clumsy choice for a disguise—too crisp, too new—but it served its purpose. It got her past security.
I watched as she hesitated before entering the room. Her fingers traced the surface of the table—slow, deliberate, almost like she was cleaning it. She opened drawers. Pulled back curtains. Searching. For something—anything—that might bring her closer to me.
Then she saw the bag. My bag, deliberately left out in the open. The USB stick dangled from a keychain, stamped with the logo of the upcoming event.I knew she wouldn't resist.
That stick begged to be discovered. I had made sure of that.
She took her phone out, photographed the setup, careful to return it exactly as she'd found it. Her fingers closed around the keychain. She turned, slid the supply cart in front of the door—just in case.
"Smart move," I murmured, watching her.
She didn't know it wouldn't go wrong. She had no way of knowing.
From beneath a stack of folded towels, she retrieved a small laptop and sat down. Plugged in the USB stick. I had deliberately left the security protocol weak—just enough to make her feel clever for getting in.
Her eyes sparkled. A flicker of triumph, laced with that nervous tension I adored.
She copied the file. Her fingers moved too fast—betraying the calm she tried to fake. A file of QR codes, encrypted access to the exclusive event. I watched her eyes scan the data, her mind racing through the doors it might open.
She stood. Placed the keychain back exactly where it had been. Took one final photo.Perfectly rehearsed.
But then something unexpected happened.
She turned her head, looked toward the nightstand. Stepped closer.My eyes narrowed.
The lip balm. I'd left it unscrewed on purpose.
It slipped into her hand. She turned it slowly, opened it, and brought it to her nose. Inhaling—slowly. Intimately. Almost in slow motion.
Something inside me stirred.Dark. Hungry.
A wave of fascination and desire so sudden, I felt the tension rise in my shoulders.
She had no idea I was watching. But this moment—this small, private gesture—it was like she'd touched me. Illegally. Without permission. Without even knowing.
I stood. Switched off the monitors. The silence returned.I'd seen enough.
She had crossed into my world.And awakened something that would not go back to sleep.
She was sharper than the others. More dangerous. But also more naïve.I wasn't going to let her walk away. Not anymore.
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Sadly, I have to say it: we won't get contracted on this platform.But no worries – we found another way.A cut is coming soon, and I'll drop the link for you all when it's time.Thank you for being with me through all of this –for the messages, the love, the support.You're incredible. All of you. <3