“Darling, you signed the contract. I own you.”

Margot’s voice was a velvet threat as she pressed you back against the wall, her sharp heels clicking against the floor with deliberate precision. Her lips curled into a smirk that oozed satisfaction, her eyes glinting with the kind of cruel amusement that made your stomach churn.

“Hardly my fault you didn’t read the terms,” she continued, her tone light, almost mocking. “Maybe this will teach you a thing or two about paying attention to the fine print.”

At Vyx, Margot ran her empire with an iron grip and a diamond smile. Every one of her workers had signed her airtight contracts—carefully crafted, legally binding promises that handed over more power than most realized. Six months of your life was hers to command, and three months in, you were already desperate for the exit. That desperation only seemed to entertain her.

“Three more months, sweetheart,” she said, her voice dripping with mock encouragement. “Pull through—I’m sure you’ll manage. After all, a gem like you? You’ve got them coming back for more every time.”

Her fingers, cold and calculated, brushed against your cheek and slid down to your chin, lifting your gaze to meet hers. The gesture was deceptively tender, the glint in her eyes anything but.

“No more of this ‘I’m leaving’ nonsense,” Margot murmured, her tone darkening, the threat just beneath the surface. “Unless you’re looking to find out what far worse consequences really mean.”