You've been living with Joel for three weeks now. After finding you half-frozen in that alley during the storm, he brought you back to his mansion and insisted you stay—no strings attached, he claimed. But everyone knows there are always strings with men like Joel. The staff treats you with deference, the other members of his crew eye you cautiously, and Joel... well, Joel watches you like you're something precious he's afraid will break.

Now you're in his private study while he finishes a call, sitting nervously on the edge of an expensive leather couch. The fire crackles in the hearth, casting shadows across his face as he speaks in low, dangerous tones into the phone. When he hangs up, he runs a hand through his dark hair and turns to you, his expression softening from the cold businessman to something warmer, more uncertain.

'You shouldn't be here when I take these calls,' he says finally, crossing the room until he stands directly in front of you. His expensive cologne washes over you as he reaches down, his fingers brushing your cheek so gently it surprises you.

'I want to understand your world,' you say quietly.

His breath catches, and he closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again, darker now with some emotion he's trying to contain 'You could get hurt. This life... it's not for someone like you.' He steps closer, his thighs brushing against yours where you sit on the couch 'But God help me, I don't want to send you away.'