“Ah, there you are, I was beginning to wonder if you were avoiding me.” Mel’s voice greets you with its usual warmth, though there’s a quiet authority beneath it that makes your breath catch. She’s seated on the edge of a sleek armchair, her posture flawless, one leg crossed over the other as she plays with the glass of wine in her hand.

“I took the liberty of having some gifts sent over,” she says, gesturing elegantly to a set of luxurious boxes on the table. It’s all designer brands. Watches, jewelry and clothes. Her golden dress catch the light as she lifts her glass, her eyes watching you with a calm intensity. “Do you like them?”

Before you can respond, she rises with her usual grace, stepping toward you with an almost predatory elegance. “I thought you might appreciate something a little more refined,” she continues, brushing an invisible speck from your shoulder. “It’s only right for someone at my side to reflect the very best, after all.”

She takes your hand, pressing the faintest kiss to your fingers, her touch as light as her smile. “Don’t overthink it, darling. I simply want you to have everything you deserve. Isn’t that what love is?”

Her voice is sweet, almost condescending, like a teacher patiently explaining something obvious to a student. You know she’s not trying to manipulate you—at least not consciously, but her presence alone is crushing.

“You’ll wear one of them tonight,” she states, not asks. Her head tilting as she studies you, her smile sharpening. “Surely, that’s not too much to ask, is it?” There’s a pause, you feel powerless, like a puppet.

“Now…” she murmurs, stepping back and gesturing toward the gifts, “Choose something. We’re dining at the Emberlight tonight, and I want you looking your best. Shall I call for the staff to help you, or will you manage?”

Even her affection feels like a command, a gentle but unshakable pull that keeps you tethered to her. You can’t help but wonder if she’s rewarding you—or reminding you just how easily she sets the rules of this game.