Chapter 11: Shared Sanctuary
730 Words
Moving my things across the hall didn’t take long. When you’ve been stripped of your past and dressed in a wardrobe of three colors, your life fits into two small suitcases. But as I stood in the doorway of Jace’s primary suite, the air felt different. It didn't smell like the sterile, lemon-scented hallways of Vantage Holdings. It smelled like her—sandalwood, expensive rain, and a hint of something sharp and metallic.
The suite was a sprawling expanse of glass and shadows. The "second room" Jace had mentioned was separated from hers only by a massive, frosted glass sliding door that didn't even have a lock.
"The doors stay open, Elena," Jace said, not looking up from where she was unbuttoning her blazer by the window. "I don't allow secrets in this suite. If I call for you at three in the morning with a question about the Sterling audits, I expect you to be at my bedside in seconds, not minutes."
I stood by the edge of the oversized silk-covered bed, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "I understand, Director."
Jace turned around. Without her blazer, she looked less like a corporate titan and more like a predator. The silk of her white shirt clung to her shoulders, and for the first time, I noticed the faint, jagged scar on her forearm—a reminder that she had fought her way to the top of Lagos's elite.
"You’re staring," she noted, her voice a low, dangerous purr.
"I... I’ve never seen that scar before," I whispered.
Jace looked down at her arm, then back at me. Her expression softened, but only for a heartbeat. "A reminder of a time when I wasn't the one in command. It’s why I don't tolerate weakness, Elena. Not in myself, and certainly not in you."
She walked toward me, her heels silent on the thick Persian rug. She stopped so close that I could see the golden flecks in her dark irises. She reached out, her fingers grazing my jawline before moving down to the silver bead at my neck.
"Tonight, there is no audit," she murmured. "Tonight, your only task is to learn the geography of this room. You will sleep. You will rest. But you will do it knowing that I am only ten feet away. If you move, I will hear you. If you cry out in your sleep, I will be there."
She leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of my ear. The heat radiating from her was intoxicating, making my knees feel like they were melting into the floor.
"You think this is a punishment, don't you? Being caged in here with me?" Jace’s hand moved from my neck to the small of my back, pulling me a fraction closer. "The truth is, Elena, this is the only place in the world where you are truly safe. Out there, you are a target. In here... you are mine. And I protect what is mine with a ferocity that would terrify you."
I looked up at her, my breath hitching. "Why me, Jace? Out of all the people you could have chosen, why go through all this for me?"
Jace’s gaze darkened, her thumb tracing the line of my lower lip. The professional mask didn't just slip; it evaporated. "Because you were the only one who didn't look at me with greed in your eyes. Years ago, at your father's gala, everyone wanted a piece of my company. But you... you just wanted to know if I had read the book you were holding. I decided then that if I ever had the chance to take you out of that world, I would."
She pulled back abruptly, as if shocked by her own honesty. She cleared her throat, the "Strict" Director returning in an instant.
"Shower. Bed. Five a.m. briefing in the lounge. If you’re even a second late, I’ll find a way to make sure you don't sleep for the rest of the week. Do you understand, Associate?"
"Yes, Jace," I whispered.
As she walked toward her own side of the suite, I realized the "Shared Sanctuary" was the most dangerous place I’d ever been. Not because Jace was cruel, but because I was beginning to realize that I didn't want to leave. The command wasn't a burden anymore; it was a heartbeat.
- Writer
