Episode 41: The Contract

Diana slides the paper toward me.

It is… a contract.

Of course it is.

“Read it,” she says.

I do.

Mandatory meals.
Limited caffeine.
Scheduled breaks.
Sleep enforcement.

“…This is excessive,” I mutter.

“It’s necessary,” she replies calmly, arms crossed, black blazer immaculate even at home.

I glance at her.

She’s serious.

Of course she is.

“…If I sign this,” I say slowly, “you will enforce it.”

“Yes.”

“…Strictly.”

“Yes.”

I pause.

Then I sign it.

Immediately.

She blinks.

“…No resistance?”

“No.”

I adjust my gloves.

“…If it’s you, I don’t mind.”

There’s a pause.

A rare one.

She steps closer, lifting my chin slightly.

“Good,” she murmurs. “…Then I expect compliance.”

Later that evening, she takes my soda away mid-sip.

“…Contract,” she says.

I sigh.

“…Tyrant.”

She smirks faintly.

“…And you signed willingly.”

I did.

And I would again.