◆◆◆ Chapter 4 ◆◆◆
Something shifted after the library. Darian didn’t just have my diary; he had a roadmap to my psyche, and he was methodical about following it.
We started seeing each other regularly, though “seeing each other” felt inadequate for what we were doing. He was systematically bringing my fantasies to life, but between the encounters, we talked. About why I wrote them, what they meant, what I actually wanted versus what I thought I should want.
“You fantasize about being watched because you’ve been invisible your whole life,” he said one evening over coffee. “You want people to see you, but only in contexts where you control the narrative.”
“Are you psychoanalyzing me or seducing me?”
“Both.” His smile was dangerous. “Page 23. Tomorrow night. Wear the black dress.”
The n
