‘Mr Wolff would like a quick word.’ ‘That’s not—’ I begin. That’s not… necessary. Advisable. ‘Genevieve.’ His voice comes down the line, saying my name in his trademark tone. Clipped. Deep. Commanding. Just how he said it last night, when he was instructing his guys how to fuck me. Just how he said it when he was ordering me to beg. I despise that I’m not strong enough to withstand the Pavlovian response I have to it. I sigh. ‘Anton. What can I do for you?’
