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Camille jumped, the breathless breath, discovering the envelope placed on the living room table. No name, no indication. Just its raw existence, posed there as obvious. His heart was beating against his rib cage with a force that betrayed his disorder.

Bastien had not warned him. He hadn't even gave him time to prepare for a new ordeal. After weeks of silences punctuated with rare bursts of truth, he was swinging that. An offer? An opportunity? Or a carefully featured trap, up to its sharp intelligence?

She hesitated before grabbing the envelope. His name was inscribed inside a clean, controlled writing. Black ink seemed to weigh on paper, as if each word had been engraved with a specific intention.

She slowly unfolded the sheet and began to read.

A proposal.

A contract offer, signed by Bastien's hand.

Her eyes swept away the lines, her brain trying to make sense of what she read. Work for him. A defined role, an official status. A place he offered him in his life, without more explanations.

A contract.

Not a declaration of love, not an invitation to resume where they had stopped. An agreement. Formal. Professional.

She closed the eyelids for a moment, trying to stem the wave of confusion that threatened to engulf it.

The front door opened suddenly. Bastien entered without waiting to be invited, his dark gaze fixed on her. Not a trace of hesitation in its appearance. He knew what he was doing.

- I imagine you read it.

She slowly looked up towards him, unconsciously tightening the sheet between her fingers.

- What is that? A diverted way of keeping me under control?

A barely perceptible smile shown Bastien's lips.

- It's an offer. Nothing compulsory. You can refuse.

She felt her blood freezing. Of course. He wanted her to feel like she has a choice. But he would not have bored to write all that if it was just a simple formality.

- Why me? she asked, her throat tight.

- Because you are the only one who can do it.

The words fell between them with a weight that she did not yet understand entirely.

- This is not an answer, she replied, her firmer voice than she would have believed.

Bastien advanced a step, reducing the distance between them. The air seemed to take care of an electrical voltage.

- There are things that I cannot explain. Not yet. But this contract ... This is an opportunity for you. And for me.

A joyless laugh escaped from Camille's lips.

- An opportunity? Who, exactly?

He doesn't even blush his eyes.

- For both of us.

Silence was stretched, vibrating with unlike emotions. Camille wanted to spit her in his face that he was making fun of her. That after everything they had crossed, he could not just swing him a cold and calculated proposal while waiting for her to accept without flinching.

But there was something in his gaze. A shadow of vulnerability, so tiny that she could have missed her if she had not known her as well.

She swallowed her anger, slowly placing the sheet on the table.

- What if I refuse?

A thrill passed through Bastien's eyes.

- So you refuse. And I will not force you to do.

The words were clear. Clear. But something in his voice told another story.

He expected her to say no. He expected her to turn her heels and abandon her again.

Camille inspired deeply, feeling her own body fighting the impulse of sending everything waltz.

- Leave me time.

Bastien nodded slowly, but his gaze remained riveted on her with an intensity that burned her skin.

- All right. But not too long.

Then he turned his heels and left the apartment, leaving her alone with his doubts.

***

The document stayed on the table all night. Camille did not touch it, refusing to pay him more attention than he deserved. However, each fiber of his being was tense towards him, looking for answers that she knew not being able to find alone.

Bastien had held him a rope. But for what purpose?

She knew that he never acted without reason. He controlled everything, weighed each decision with formidable precision. So why offer him this place in his life now?

The filtra dawn through the curtains, projecting a cloudy light on the table. Camille fell asleep on the sofa, her mind still entangled in a whirlwind of contradictory thoughts.

When she finally opened her eyes, a cold certainty had settled in her.

She had to discover the truth.

And for that, there was only one solution.

She took the contract between her fingers, the gaze fixed on the printed words.

Then she grabbed her phone and composed the Bastien number.

He picked up after the first ringtone.

- I accept.

Silence stretched, dense. Then, in a rarer voice than she had ever heard it, Bastien replied:

- Good decision.

It was the last thing he said before hanging up.

And Camille knew, at this precise moment, that she had just dive into something that was going to upset her life forever. Camille remained motionless after the call. The phone slipped from his fingers, falling on the sofa into a thud. His heart was beating at a strange pace, between apprehension and this strange feeling of having crossed an invisible threshold.

She said yes.

And now ?

A sigh escaped from her lips while she put the contract before her. Each line seemed to weigh heavier than the words it contained. Work for Bastien. Bond to him in a way she did not yet understand. But she didn't really have a choice.

Two hours earlier, she had received a call from the bank. His account was uncovered. Worse, a debt she thought she had settled resurfaced, threatening to put it on the street. No matter how much she was fighting, reality always caught up with her.

The pride dictated him to refuse the help of Bastien. To throw this contract into the figure of this man who oscillated between mystery and coldness. But she was no longer a child. Fairy tales did not exist, and if she wanted to survive, she should be pragmatic.

So she had composed her number. Admitted her decision in a breath that she hoped firmer than he was in reality.

Bastien's response came back to him. Good decision.

Why did these words resound in it as a trap that closed?

***

The next morning, she appeared at the Bastien office. The building rose with an intimidating presence, just like the man waiting for him inside.

When she entered his office, he was sitting behind a huge glass desk, intertwined fingers, an indecipherable look fixed on her.

- You came earlier than expected, he noted.

Camille shrugged.

- You might as well end right away.

A smile touched his lips, but he only lasted a fraction of a second.

- I appreciate your pragmatism.

He got up, around the office and put a file in front of her.

- Read and sign.

She grabbed the pen without a word, but her gaze remained on him.

- Do you plan to explain to me why me?

Bastien did not respond immediately. He leaned against the edge of the office, crossing his arms.

- Because I don't trust anyone else.

She could have laughing if the seriousness in her voice had not frozen it.