Page 29 of Code Name: Ghost

She shouldn’t be able to get under my skin this way, but she does—she always did.

* * *

That night we go back toOpus Noir. Cherise stands beside me, watching the room with a wary fascination that she’s trying desperately to mask, but I see right through her. I always have.

Tonight, the club hums with a darker kind of energy. The main dungeon is quieter, more exclusive. This isn't for the casual voyeurs who come for a taste of the lifestyle without truly understanding it. This is for the initiates, the experienced, and the ones who crave the deeper layers of control and surrender.

I guide her through the club, my hand firm at the small of her back. She’s dressed the way I told her to be—an emerald-green corset hugging her curves, a delicate lace thong underneath that offers the barest hint of modesty. She hadn’t fought me on it this time. That alone tells me more than she realizes. She’s resisting less.

Good. because tonight, I intend to teach her something very important.

"Why are we here?" she asks, her voice even, but I catch the slight hitch in her breath.

I lead her toward a private room, where a heavy crimson curtain separates the space from the rest of the club. "Because you need to understand how this world works. You need to know the kind of man I am now."

Her gaze flickers to mine. “I already know what kind of man you are.”

I push the curtain aside and guide her inside. "No, sweetheart. You don’t."

The room is intimate, dimly lit, designed for control and submission. A St. Andrew’s cross stands against one wall, a padded bench sits in the center, and an array of tools—floggers, cuffs, restraints—hang neatly on display. The air is thick with anticipation.

Across the room, a Dom—Matthias Varenne, one ofOpus Noir’smost respected trainers—stands with his sub, a petite brunette named Alina. She’s bound at the wrists, her body relaxed in anticipation.

Cherise tenses beside me, eyes flicking between the couple and me. "Why are we watching this?"

"Because I need you to see what trust looks like."

Matthias moves with practiced precision, trailing the falls of a soft flogger down Alina’s back. She shivers but doesn’t flinch. When he finally strikes, her head tilts back, her mouth parting in pleasure, not pain.

I lean into Cherise, my breath a whisper against her ear. "She’s not afraid, is she?"

Cherise swallows. "No."

"Because she trusts him." I brush my fingers down her arm, feeling the slight shiver that runs through her. "That’s what submission is, Cherise. It’s not about pain. It’s about giving up control and knowing you’re safe."

She inhales slowly, as if she needs to remind herself to breathe.

"Come here."

She turns to me, suspicion warring with curiosity. "What?"

I take her hand, guiding her to the padded bench in the center of the room. I don’t force her. I don’t have to. Her body follows on instinct, even as her mind fights the pull.

"I’m not binding you," I murmur, my hands resting on her hips. "I’m not even restraining you. All I want is for you to trust me."

Her pulse jumps against her throat. "And if I don’t?"

I tighten my grip, just enough to remind her who’s in control here. "Then you walk away. But we both know you won’t."

I ease her down onto the bench, guiding her until she’s settled on her knees, her arms resting against the cushioned surface.

"Close your eyes."

"Nick…"

"Close. Your. Eyes." I repeat.

She hesitates, then obeys.

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