"Do you think she'll like it?" Alec asked Olga, as he held the delicate diamond necklace in his hands. It cost him several grand, and if Mila succeeded, he would gift it to her.

He wasn't always the bad guy.

Their relationship was just different. A delicate balance of pain, punishment, and reward. It required tactfulness and patience. Qualities he had in spades. He was sure that with enough time, she would care for him again.

Stockholm syndrome was inevitable, as he'd witnessed before. Within the year, they would be feeding each other breakfast in bed.

"Spoiled." Olga shook her head. "That girl doesn't deserve you. She never did."

It was clear why she thought Mila ungrateful. Due to her rough beginnings, Olga couldn't comprehend why he gave her the things he did, especially when she didn't appreciate them. But they were from different worlds. 

Next to the box was a brochure for The Brockmire Institute, a highly recommended facility for memory rehabilitation. He'd researched several options, and it was the best.

Though none of the institutes claimed the therapy as a sure thing, The Brockmire Institute had the best recovery rate out of all of them. 

"You're not thinking of—" Olga's eyes turned big, and she put her feather duster to the side. Firmly planting her palms on the desk in front of him.

"Sir, you can't. The only reason things have gone as well as they have is because she can't remember."

He shoved the brochure in the back of his desk, but she relented.

"Every day I live in fear, worrying she'll ruin everything again. Please sir, don't do this."

"It's not for you to decide." he said.

"Even if you do manage, she still won't--."

"Enough." he said sternly.

The last thing he needed was another defiant woman crossing the line. Least of all, the help.

"Do we need to discuss who's in charge?"

She lowered her head and exited the room.

When everything was over, and he accomplished his task, he desired to make Mila whole again. But for the meantime, her memory loss was convenient.

He waited eagerly for Raul and Mila to come home, and once he heard sounds of their arrival, he moved from his study to meet them.

"How did it go?" he asked as they came in. Mila looked like she'd been forced to come home early from a good party.

The dog superseded her attention, and she picked him up, greeting him with enthusiasm. It was the only time he ever saw her smile nowadays.  It only bothered him slightly, but he didn't need her love right now, only her compliance.

Her reaction was understandable. He'd taken her from everything she loved in order to be with him. Ordered her around, spied on her, threatened her family.

However, he'd also spoiled and taken care of her, improved her. His own category of love language.

"It went fine." she said, avoiding eye-contact, focusing on the dog.

"We had no problems." Raul added, trying to help.

Olga came in to get Mila's coat, and Raul winked at her before heading to his office. A good sign. But Olga looked back at him with concern. Later, they would probably have a discussion behind his back and both give him grief for several weeks.

"Go shower and change." he directed at Mila. "Meet me in the parlor when you're done." 

Without a word, she obediently marched up the stairs.

He despised dark colors on her. They reminded him of the version of her he was suffocating, ever so slowly.

Maybe Olga was right about it being better this way. However, his greatest desire was to see the look on Mila's face once she realized what he'd done. The sweet thought of it kept him going.

At the same time, in the back of his mind, there was this nagging worry. Concern about other undesirable things he might awaken...

The triangle rack was set on the pool table, and he was chalking his cue when she joined him. She was situated and dressed in a manner he approved, and even taken out her ponytail.

"You look nice."

"Thank you." she replied.

She managed to take the compliment without a hint of lip. Call him impressed.

Maybe she could be taught.

"Pool?" he asked.

"Why not." she picked up the stick next to him.

"You break." he removed the rack, displaying a perfect triangle.

He enjoyed watching her focus, but mostly how he could see the slight hint of cleavage when she leaned over.

When she noticed his attention to her body, instead of covering herself, she looked directly at him, standing upright in a power stance. Her cue reminding him of a spear.

She knocked in a solid, which meant he was strips. She went again, nearly missing hitting in a second ball.

"Your turn." she said, displeased.

He used his cue to call the pocket, playing a more advanced version of the game.

"You think the interview went well?" he asked, as he hit in the purple, orange, and red balls.

Her mouth gaped.

"I do...It went over by a half hour."

"Good." he said, also sinking the yellow.

It had taken a lot of tedious work to get her in front of Han. She had no idea the planning and pain he'd gone through to get them to this point. The house of cards he'd built. Now, it was her turn to do some heavy lifting.

In order to make it a challenge, he missed his next shot, but she still scratched.

"If I get the job, what am I supposed to be doing for you?" she asked. Frustrated how the game was going.

"At this point, it's not for you to know." he said. "When the time comes, you'll know enough. Your only function is to do your job and fit in. Pay attention to the people around you, and get invited to the right meetings."

"You'd rely on me this much to bet your 'master plan' on it?" she said.

He hit in the green, maroon, and blue.

"Faith in you has nothing to do with it." he said. "It's your astute ability for deception I'm relying on."

He could tell his words stung. The fact that he could judge her for being a bad person.

He sunk the 8-ball into the final socket, ending the game.

"It's a shame." He put his cue back on the rack. "You used to be much better."

"Why don't you tell me about it." she quipped.

This was her MO now. Trying to figure out what he knew, and she didn't.

So many things sunshine. He laughed to himself. So many things.

Raul knocked on the door. His face conveying, he had bad news to deliver.

"You can go." he told her, to which she quickly obliged. She never needed to be told twice to leave him.

Raul watched her go before continuing.

"We have a problem."

He pulled up video surveillance from Mila's closet. In the video, after slipping off her blazer, she pulled a piece of paper from her bra and hid it in one of her shoes.

She must not have realized how closely they monitored her changing area.

He rolled up his sleeves.

Why couldn't she behave? Her life would be so much easier. Although, he had to admit, part of him respected it. It was one of the reasons he was attracted to her in the first place.

Unfortunately for her, he knew her in a way she didn't know him, and it left him the home advantage.

"I'll take care of it." he said.

Now, he would have to make it hurt.

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