Page 41 of Suite 7

“You rolled your eyes when I praised you.”

He steps closer and I hold my ground. “If you consent to this, you follow my instructions. You don’t mock. You don’t dismiss. You try, honestly, or we stop right now. Which is it?”

My face goes warm. “I’ll try.”

“You’ll try what?”

“I’ll try, Sir.” The words taste strange. Formal. Like something I’m not quite wearing correctly yet.

“Better.” He steps back. “The coffee maker. Grinder in the cabinet above, beans in the silver container. Six level scoops. Medium grind — not powder, not whole beans. Somewhere between.”

I move to the cabinet. “Why medium? Fine works better for⁠—”

“Did I ask for your opinion on grind settings?”

“No, but⁠—”

“Then follow the instruction as given.”

I yank the cabinet open harder than necessary. “This is ridiculous. I know how to make coffee, I don’t need step-by-step instructions like I’m⁠—“

“Vera.” The command in his voice stops me mid-reach. “Color.”

“Green.” I mutter it. “Obviously green. I’m just saying this is⁠—“

“This is you fighting.” His voice is even. Patient in a way that is worse than impatience. “You consented to follow my instructions. So either do that, or use your safeword and leave. What’s it going to be?”

I could leave. Walk out right now.

But then I’d be doing exactly what he said. Hiding.

Fuck.

“I’ll follow your instructions, Sir.”

“The beans. Six level scoops.”

I find the container. Open it. Rich, dark, expensive coffee smell — of course Kane has expensive beans. I measure carefully, pour them into the grinder, and press the button, the machine roaring to life.

“How long?”

“Until the consistency is right. Watch it through the top.”

“That’s not very specific⁠—“

“It doesn’t need to be specific. It needs you to pay attention. To observe. To trust your judgment within the parameters I’ve given you.”

A pause.

“I give you structure. You execute within that structure. I’m not micromanaging every second. I’m providing the frame and trusting you to work inside it.”

I watch the beans break down. Smaller. More uniform.

“There. Stop.”

I release the button.

“Now the filter. Paper filters in the drawer to your right.”