Elara Venn clutched the blanket around her chest and swung her legs off the bed, hoping to stand. But as soon as her feet touched the floor, pain jolted through her calves, her ankle gave way, and—
Thud.She hit the floor. Hard.
Groaning, she tried to push herself up—Only for an arm to slip around her waist and lift her effortlessly.
She turned, startled, and found Hazel Lane's face inches from hers.
Elara flinched violently, wriggled from her arms, and collapsed back onto the bed.
Hazel froze at the reaction. She silently helped her lean against the headboard, tucked the blanket up to her chest, adjusted the thermostat, and asked calmly, "Anywhere hurting?"
Yes, everywhere. Hazel had been gentle… relatively. But soreness was inevitable.
Elara's cheeks flushed. She turned away, refusing to answer.
Hazel didn't press. Instead, she touched her forehead lightly. "You had a bit of a fever earlier. It's gone now. Your body should be fine."
Fine?! Elara glared.
Her voice hoarse, she rasped, "Miss Lane, how can you even say that with a straight face? What isn't a big problem to you? You worked me until I could barely breathe—like a broken doll!"
Hazel tilted her head. "What kind of trashy novels have you been reading?"
Elara flushed deeper.The kind with broken dolls, venting tools, and excessive tags, she thought.But the interruption short-circuited her rage.
She muttered, "Can I get some clothes? I want to go back."
Hazel's gaze drifted—completely unbothered—to her bare collarbones, the smooth skin, delicate curves. Her thoughts clouded, her throat tightened.
Elara pulled the blanket tighter under Hazel's gaze.
But Hazel pulled herself back from the edge. Elara's body wouldn't survive another round. She asked instead, "Back to where? Your place, or Nathan's?"
Before Elara could answer, Hazel continued, "Either way, you really think you're going back?"
"That's illegal!" Elara cried, shocked at Hazel's casual tyranny. "I'm a person, not a pet!"
"I know that," Hazel said evenly. "I don't have that kind of kink. But illegal? Didn't you read the contract you signed?"
Elara had signed a contract when hired as Nathan Lane's therapist. She remembered a clause requiring her to live on-site for five years… She hadn't read it too closely at the time.
"You tampered with it?" she accused.
Hazel didn't deny it.
The realization hit her. She hadn't signed a contract—she'd signed her life away.Hazel Lane had been planning this from the start.
Elara, stunned, grumbled inwardly:Should've had more rounds then. Make it worth the price.
She asked her system, She's bluffing, right? She can't actually own me.
"It's not ownership. Just... breach the clause and you'll owe her everything you've got."
I'm not doing this for pleasure, she insisted. It's for the mission. If I cross Hazel and lose everything, I can't complete it. You believe me, right?
"...Sure. Totally."
Hazel arched a brow. "Don't act like you were tricked. You signed willingly."
Elara froze.
She whispered, "You've already gotten what you wanted. What more do you want?"
Hazel sat across from her. "And what is it you think I wanted?"
Elara's face burned. "Miss Lane, don't push it."
Hazel reached out, thumb brushing Elara's eye. "I'm not hurting you. I'm cherishing you."
Her touch made Elara shudder. She turned her face away.
Hazel sighed. "You'll get used to it."
Elara said nothing.
She tugged the blanket higher, shielding herself. Hazel didn't react—just took out a small tube of ointment.
"No real damage," Hazel said, "but there's some swelling. It must be painful."
Of course it was. Burned, raw, sensitive.
Elara flushed scarlet. She wished she could disappear.
Hazel uncapped the tube. The scent of aloe spread gently. Pleasant, almost relaxing.
"It's safe," Hazel added. "Plant-based. No side effects."
Then, evenly: "You've got two choices. One, I apply it."
"No!" Elara shot back, panicking.
Hazel gave her a look. "Two, you do it."
"I'll do it," Elara said quickly.
Hazel placed the ointment before her. "Then go ahead."
Elara hesitated.
Hazel narrowed her eyes. "What, no strength left? Need help?"
"C-could you… leave?" Elara asked.
Hazel chuckled. "Leave? How will I know if you apply it properly?"
Elara clenched the tube so hard her nails bit into the plastic. "I can't with you watching."
"Am I tying your hands? Blocking your access?"
Elara knew she was being toyed with. She clenched her jaw.
Hazel sighed again. "Give it here."
Elara recoiled.
"Be good," Hazel said gently—but it sounded like a threat.
Elara froze, eyes pleading. Hazel ignored it, took the tube.
"If you don't treat it, it'll get worse. Don't blame me later."
With a light push, she laid Elara back. The blanket flipped up—cool air brushed her skin. Goosebumps rose.
Hazel's touch was light, the ointment cold. Her fingers… long, smooth, gentle.
Elara threw her arm over her eyes, lips pressed shut, fighting every sound.
Hazel's tone was professional. "Swelling's high. Relax. I can't get the ointment in otherwise."
I'm deaf, Elara told herself. I heard nothing.
The ointment contained mint. A breeze passed. Elara shivered.
Hazel paused—then chuckled softly. She leaned in, kissing the edge of Elara's burning ear. "I really did luck out with you."
Elara caught sight of her fingers again—so beautiful, so precise.She stared. Thought, Is the middle finger slightly longer than the index? Shame. Could've been perfect.
Hazel misread her gaze and gently pulled the blanket back over her.
"You'll get used to it."
"You're hungry," she added. "Mrs. Lee made pumpkin millet porridge with brown sugar. I'll bring you a bowl."
Elara called out, "Miss Lane—"
Hazel turned. "Didn't we agree you'd call me Sister?"
Yeah, but that was before you flipped me over and showed me your CEO technique, Elara thought.
Instead, she murmured, "Could I… have some clothes?"
"Not right now."
Seriously? Petty much?
"You don't need them for now," Hazel said smoothly.
Elara protested, "Nathan needs me. I have a treatment plan. Mrs. Lee said he was looking for me—please, I need to see him."
Even if paradise was tempting, a monarch had to show up to court eventually.
Hazel's expression dropped.
Her voice turned cold. "Even now, you're still thinking of him? Elara Venn, should I admire your dedication—or your feelings for him?"
Elara shut up instantly.
After a long silence, Hazel said, "We'll see. If you behave, I'll let you see him."
Mission over desire. Always.
Elara asked, "When?"
Hazel's voice was soft but sharp. "So impatient. Can't wait a second, can you?"
We've been talking for fifteen minutes, Elara thought. I treat your brother by day, and open your vault by night. This isn't a conflict—it's multitasking.
But then she glanced at Hazel's hand again.Goddamn. If this is the rest of my life… I'll die happy. Missions don't feel this good.
"…I want to pry open your skull and see what's in there." the system snapped.
"You've got a stick in your hand, and you're aiming for my brain?" Elara retorted mentally."Well, good news—it's full of sticks already. Want to leave yours in there too?"
But deep down, she knew: Hazel might not stay. She might walk away halfway.
That would be a loss. Of both body and mission.
So she said nothing. Silence was safer.
Hazel understood. She sighed. "I'll get your porridge."
Once she left, Elara buried her face into the blanket, writhing. Her fingers rubbed at her temples like she could cool her brain off.
Unfair. That face, that body, and now those hands?!
"Are you… hand-obsessed?" the system asked.
"You don't get it," Elara said. "Her hands are directly correlated with my happiness index. Sure, there are substitutes—but none so agile, so clever. So… full of potential."
The system regretted asking immediately.
Elara sat up, counting on her fingers. "What's 'good behavior,' exactly?"
She asked the system seriously, "You think Hazel prefers the virtuous-and-pure type, the endure-and-survive martyr, or the soft, submissive no-resistance doormat?"
"Does it matter?"
"Of course it matters. Option A leads to dramatic tension, might even draw blood. B lets me play hard-to-get and enjoy it. But C… like a dead fish. Even if it feels good, she'd have to stay still. No fun."
She brightened. "I want to try A, but it might get out of hand. We live under the same roof. One bad mood, and I lose everything. Better to go with B. Win-win."
"…Why am I listening to this?" the system whispered to itself.