Obey: 7. His Space

Clara spent the whole next day with her fingers grazing the choker at her throat, as if it were a secret brand only she could feel.

Every glance in the mirror reminded her: You chose this. You chose him.

By 6:30 p.m., she was pacing her apartment, nerves rattling her chest like coins in a tin can. Her body thrummed with anticipation, but her mind was a storm. What if she was walking into something she couldn’t walk out of? What if this was the moment it became too much?

And yet.

She didn’t take off the choker.

At 6:45, her phone buzzed.

 Address attached. Knock twice. Don’t speak until I tell you to.

Her stomach flipped as she read the address: an industrial building on the edge of the arts district. Not a hotel, not a restaurant. His space.

She hailed a cab, her heart hammering harder with every block. The city lights flickered against the glass as if they were watching her go.

The building was unassuming, its brick façade lit onl