The Mafia Boss's Pet Wife
You’re late

POV Sophia

I could feel his eyes on me, watching my every move, weighing me like some kind of possession. His presence was oppressive, and no matter how many times I told myself I wouldn't let him control me, I still found myself standing here, in his office, waiting for his next command. The faint scent of leather and whiskey in the room did nothing to calm the storm brewing inside me.

When he spoke, his voice was cold, but there was a certain underlying calmness to it that made my heart race. "You're late." His words cut through the air, slicing through any last remnants of my composure.

"I... I ran into Vanessa," I muttered, almost ashamed of the encounter. I had never felt so small in her presence. Her eyes, full of judgment, still haunted me.

He didn't respond immediately, but I could tell from his expression that he was enjoying the discomfort I felt. "Vanessa. What a surprise. I imagine it was difficult for you to deal with her." His voice dripped with disdain, and I felt a rush of anger, mixed with confusion, surge through me.

Why did it matter to him? Why did my relationship with Vanessa matter to him? I knew the answer, deep down. He was manipulating me, taking everything I said, everything I did, and twisting it to suit his needs. And for some reason, I was letting him.

I hesitated before taking a step closer, not sure what he wanted from me. The space between us felt like a chasm, one I couldn't cross. The tension was suffocating, but I knew better than to show him any more weakness. "You shouldn't have wasted time with her," Nathan's voice broke through my thoughts, steady and cold. "You had a task to complete."

I swallowed hard, knowing he was right. The task had been simple, but my mind had wandered, my emotions getting in the way. I had allowed distractions to get the better of me, but that wasn't going to happen again.

"I know what to do, Nathan," I said, the words tumbling out more firmly than I intended. A flicker of something crossed his face, something akin to approval.

He stepped closer to me then, his gaze never leaving mine. "I'll give you a chance to prove that, Sophia. Tomorrow, I'm going to put you in a situation where you'll need to trust me. You'll do what I ask, without hesitation, without questioning." The weight of his words hit me like a slap to the face. I didn't want to, I didn't want to submit, but a part of me was already preparing for the inevitable. There was no way out, was there?

He continued, his voice softening, making it sound more like a challenge than an order. "You will show me that you're ready to surrender, completely."

A shiver ran down my spine at the thought of it. I could feel the fear bubbling up, but I fought to control it. He was right. Resistance was futile. But how much of myself would I lose in the process?

He watched me, waiting for my response. My throat tightened, but I forced myself to speak, my voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, Nathan."

The words were a surrender, whether I liked it or not. I was bound to him, caught in a game I didn't know how to play. And yet, part of me couldn't help but wonder how far he would push me. How far would I go to prove him wrong, to show him that I still had control over my own will?

But I already knew the answer, didn't I? There was no turning back.

As he stepped closer, the space between us growing smaller, I felt a mixture of dread and curiosity. His presence was like a storm cloud, and I could either try to fight it or allow it to consume me. And I had to admit, a small part of me was terrified of what he would make me do next.

The words that came out of his mouth were soft, but they felt like a command. "I like seeing your submission, Sophia." His voice dropped low, and I could feel the intensity of his gaze, like a weight pressing down on me. "But remember, it's not just about what you do. It's about how you think, how you surrender to it. Mental surrender is the key to your total obedience."

His words echoed in my mind, as if they were carving their way into my consciousness. The idea of surrendering completely, giving up everything to him, was both terrifying and oddly seductive. I knew it wasn't right, but a part of me was drawn to the power he held over me.

He guided me toward the sofa, and I sat down without protest, my body stiff with tension. The air between us was thick with unspoken promises, uncharted territories I had no desire to explore, yet couldn't resist. "Now," Nathan's voice broke the silence, sharp and commanding. "I want you to show me what you're capable of when you surrender completely."

I wanted to protest, to fight back, but I knew it was pointless. I was already trapped, already under his control. The question wasn't whether I would surrender, but how far I would go. And that, more than anything, scared me.