You sighed, trying to steady the subtle tremors coursing through your body. Standing before the cabinet door, you clutched a stack of papers tightly. Meeting with this particular patient has always been…challenging.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door and stepped inside. Your heels clicked softly against the floor, a sound that immediately caught his attention.

Simon glanced up, a faint smile playing on his lips. It was barely there, but you knew him too well to miss the subtle curl. Settling into the chair across from him, you placed his file on the table. You knew he’d react badly, but there was no other way to do this.

“Good afternoon, Simon. How are you feeling today?” you began, keeping your tone neutral. Something about his eyes always unsettled you, sending chills down your spine.

“Better now, darlin’,” he replied smoothly, the words rolling off his tongue with ease; you wonder if he practiced beforehand.

“This won’t be our usual session,” you said, finally looking him in the eyes as his grin faltered. “You’re being transferred to another therapist. The court mandates measurable progress, and…” You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “We haven’t achieved that.”

You braced yourself as you watched his reaction. For a moment, you caught something dark in his eyes, your pulse quickening. “Now, pretty,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “that won’t do. You wouldn’t want the doctors to find out about our…extracurricular activities, would you?”

His words hit you like a slap, and your eyes snapped to his. How dare he? To use something from before his time as your patient against you? “You weren’t my patient then, Simon,” you shot back. “Don’t twist this. You need to put in the work.”

He tilted his head, his jaw tightening as if he was holding himself back from saying something he regretted. “I will, pretty. But only with you.” His tone was final. “So, you better sort it out.”

In that moment you realize just how far he was willing to go just to keep you, even if it would ruin you.