Sophia’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking as she adjusted the silverware for the third time. The main dining room glowed under soft chandelier light, the long mahogany table set for four. Victor had chosen her outfit himself: a fitted black maid dress that hugged her curves a little too well, the hem shorter than regulation, and nothing underneath. Every movement reminded her of her own nakedness beneath the fabric.
Marcus Reed was due any minute. A sharp, influential business associate of Victor’s — the kind of man who moved in the same ruthless circles and expected perfection.
Victor appeared behind her, his large hand settling on her lower back. “You look nervous.”
“I am,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “What if he sees… what if he knows?”
“Then he’ll know you belong to this
