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“You’re so flustered. It’s obvious. Just do me a favor.” She turns my way so that she’s facing me. “We’re colleagues, and technically, I’m your superior – but within the regulations of this firm, we’re equals. Although your being Mister Larkin’s sub places you above me on that measure.”

I shake my head. “I don’t see it that way, Julia.”

Her smile is sincere. “I know. But you are, Alexis. And the deeper you go into this world, the more you’re going to become a part of your Master. Just remember to reserve a place for yourself. For your own feelings and thoughts.” She eyes me closely. “Sometimes, you’ll need a little of that freedom of separation.”

I tilt my head, really looking at Julia. I guess I assumed she belonged to one of the other partners, but I never actually asked. “Sounds like you know from experience.”

A sly smile tilts her red lips. “I do, but not in the way you think. I’m a Domme, Alexis.”

“Oh,” I say, even more confused. “Then how do you take orders from Chase?”

The tinkling laugh she releases fills my office. “With great precaution. Mister Larkin knew that another submissive wasn’t the best choice to oversee the partners’ subs. Only another Dominant would work. So here I am. And that’s why I know you need to carve out a place for yourself. I always tell all my subs to do so, for their mental health.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Just how many do you have?”

She flips her binder closed. “More than enough.” With a tick of her chin, she motions toward the door. “You should probably go address your team now. Come on. I have faith in you.”

What world is this where Julia the Domme is becoming someone—possibly the only someone—I consider a friend? I smile to myself as I collect the files, feeling more at place within the walls of Lark and Gannet than I ever thought possible.

That feeling dissipates a little as I enter the cubicle area, the room where I spent so many months trying to blend into the scenery. Working on a case solo has always been my strength. I’m focused and dedicated, and I get more work done without the distractions from others.

However, if we’re to truly test what we are capable of, we have to embrace what scares us. For most, standing in front of an office full of paralegals and interns is a minor inconvenience. For me, it’s the thing nightmares are spawned from.

The glass walls actually pulse in my vision. The gray carpet bevels beneath my feet, threatening to trip me with every step. Julia clears her throat, her wide eyes directed toward me, presenting me to the full office.

Shit.

I breathe slowly, aware of the perspiration breaking over my face. “Mister Larkin and the partners have requested that our team research the victim statements,” I begin, not clearly hearing each word; as I’m too focused on the echo of my voice.

I pause just long enough to recall the stress Chase was under the night before, how he paced the penthouse. I’m not just here for him as his sub—a belonging or a fuck toy; though I’m quite happy to always be the one to bring him satisfaction—I’m also his partner, in a sense. In that way, I want to help him. “We’re under a time constraint,” I add, my voice bolder, louder. “We have two days to discover if there’s any crossover among victim statements. Anything that can tie the client to each offense, or point to another suspect.”

Chelsea, who now occupies my old desk, speaks up. “I thought the case is being focused on the DNA discovery.” She smirks at me. “Did you not get the memo?”

That fucking smirk of hers, it sets my teeth. And I’m surprised to find that I’m not wilting under her open challenge. Rather, before today, I’d probably smile nervously and agree, questioning my strategy.

That’s not happening. “The partners have

that handled. You’re not privileged to every aspect of this case, Chelsea.” I walk steadily toward her and drop a stack of copied testimonies on her desk. “If you feel your assignment is too much for you, let me know. I can transfer you to another case.”

Eyebrows hiked to her badly dyed hairline, she manages to say, “Yes…I mean, no, ma’am – I’m fine working this one.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your cooperation.” I turn and head back toward the front of the office, where Julia and I pass out the rest of the copies, giving instructions on what needs to be focused on and highlighted, all relevant and pertinent information brought to our attention.

When I reach the section near Chelsea, I hunker near her ear to whisper, just for her: “By the way, I’m neither a lesbian nor do I have an STD, but otherwise, that’s none of your business. I do happen to have a fucking hot as hell boyfriend who’s going to fuck me senseless real soon.” I pat her shoulder before I move on. “Just thought I’d clear that up.”

We’re hurtling toward the end of the day, and I haven’t even worked my way through the final victim’s statement from the first case. I glance at the time on my phone: 4:50

Instead of isolating myself in my office, I decided to work alongside the paralegals at the main table in the office area. It saves time, in case they need anything addressed right away, but it also feels right.

I don’t want my first official week as their supervisor to be spent locked away in my office, drawing some proverbial line between them and me. It works well for Julia—she has the intimidation down—but I’m not Julia. I have to find my own rhythm in managing my team.

Two of the women opposite me glance at their phones, then up at me. “All right,” I say, accepting defeat. “We’ll pick up here in the morning. We still have another day.” I start stacking the files. “Oh, and thank you all for the diligent work today.”

Smiles and nods, and some goodbyes, and as the team heads toward their desks to leave for the day, a sense of accomplishment washes over me. Not for the case, but for the way I handled my first real test. The case is a different matter.

“Miss Wilde?”

I look up to see Sophie. “You can still call me Alexis.” I smile.

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