kayspen3
The Queen didn't rush her. She simply stood, close enough that the assistant felt her attention like a hand tightening around her throat.
"You keep saying he's dangerous," the Queen said calmly. "It doesn't scare me."
Her fingers closed around the assistant's wrist, pressing it flat against the desk. "Do you know what he does?"
"I... this is a mistake," the assistant whispered, trembling.
"A mistake is thinking your body lies to me," the Queen said. Her grip tightened command, not pain.
"Look at you," she continued. "Shaking. Pulse frantic. Mouth opening like you're about to beg."
"I belong to him," the assistant stammered.
"No," the Queen said softly. "You were assigned to him." Her free hand moved to the assistant's throat not choking, just claiming. "Men like him confuse ownership with fear. I don't."
Her thumb pressed. The assistant gasped. "I don't take what doesn't respond. And you-" Her lips brushed the ear. "-are responding beautifully."
"I can't... if he finds out-"
"He will. Eventually," the Queen interrupted. Her fingers moved lower. "That you weren't stolen. That you walked."
She kissed her hard, claiming, silencing protest. Dominance. Erasing the shadow of him.
"You're not innocent," the Queen murmured. "You're starving. I don't save women like you. I ruin them for every cage they've ever known."
"Tell me to stop," she said.
Stop. The word hovered. It never came.
The Queen smiled slow, victorious. "Once I touch you, he doesn't get you back. Not loyalty. Not fear. Not nights. You don't belong to me. But you will never belong to him again."
The door stayed closed. The assistant let herself fall.