Unraveled

Chapter 15: Taking Root

The next few days were, in every way, a gauntlet Agatha could never have anticipated. It was like some cruel twist from a TV show Disney would make—where the heroine must face an endless string of trials to reach her goal.

Only, in this version, Agatha's prize wasn't a throne or treasure at the end, but the chance to make it through each day with her dignity intact.

No client emergencies, no pressing meetings; it was as if the universe itself had aligned to trap her in Rio's orbit.

No escape routes.

No distractions.

Just Rio, haunting her like a ghost she couldn't banish.

And Agatha?

She was impossibly, unbearably turned on.

And Rio— damn her —knew it.

The flicker of awareness in those dark, relentless eyes, the curve of her smirk that teased but gave nothing away, made Agatha's skin prickle with an intensity she hadn't felt in years.

Rio didn't push too hard—she was far too clever for that.

Her gestures were maddeningly subtle.

She had found new ways to murmur Agatha name, her tone so low and deliberate that Agatha's pulse raced. She brushed against her with the smallest touch, the barest graze of fingers when handing her a file or slipping a pen across her desk.

None of it was overtly sexual.

But to Agatha? It was everything.

Now that she knew the sharp precision of Rio's hands, the control held within those strong, capable fingers, her mind flooded with images of what they could do. She knew the wicked skill of her tongue, the way those dark eyes could blaze with something wild, almost feral, when Agatha finally gave in and came undone beneath her.

The flicker of memory alone was enough to leave her breathless, pulse quickening, her muscles tightening with a need that was impossible to ignore.

After three days of utter, unrelenting torment, Agatha found herself lying awake, staring at the ceiling of her bedroom. Even her own bed—her sanctuary—had become a shrine to Rio Vidal. She'd washed the silk sheets, sure, but the memory of Rio was impossible to cleanse. No matter how many times she stripped the linens, the ghost of what Rio had done to her here lingered, as vivid and stubborn as ever.

She gritted her teeth, frustrated and desperate, fingers trailing to where she thought she could find relief.

But it was just... okay.

Fine.

Nothing could match the real thing, and the ache only deepened, pulsing stronger with every touch that couldn't quite measure up.

Before she even realized it, Agatha grabbed her phone and typed a quick message to Billy. Her finger hit send almost instinctively.

Get me the phone number for Rio Vidal.

The reply was nearly instant—Billy was nothing if not exceptional at his job.

830-557-2136.

She made a mental note to give him a generous holiday bonus this year.

But now that she had the number staring back at her, mocking her from the screen... did she have the courage to actually send the text?

The thought alone had her gritting her teeth.

When had she become so... hesitant?

So wound up over a simple message?