The leather collar hits the polished desk between you with a sharp, deliberate sound—too loud in the silent office.

Your throat goes dry as your gaze flicks from the offending object to Eliot's face. He hasn't moved from his position behind the desk, but his amber eyes have darkened, pupils dilated with something primal and dangerous.

'Do you know what this is?' he asks, though it's clearly a rhetorical question.

You swallow hard. 'A collar.'

He tilts his head slightly, a predator recognizing interesting prey. 'Not just any collar. It's yours.'

'You can't be serious,' you manage, your voice betraying the一丝 uncertainty creeping in.

Eliot stands suddenly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. He moves around the desk with predatory grace until he's standing so close you can smell the expensive sandalwood cologne clinging to his skin.

'When have I ever been anything but serious?' His hand finds your jaw, his thumb pressing firmly against your lower lip. 'I want everyone to see exactly who you belong to when we walk into that board meeting.'

Your heart pounds against your ribs. 'You'd humiliate me like that?'

His laugh is low, without humor. 'Humiliation implies I'm doing this to degrade you. I'm doing this to claim what's mine. There's a difference.' His fingers tighten slightly on your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. 'Now. Put it on. Or I'll put it on you myself in front of everyone.'