We lasted three days before we broke the new rules too.

Alexander texted me Saturday morning with an address and a time. No explanation. I stood in front of my closet for twenty minutes deciding what to wear, settled on a black dress that felt like armor, and took a car across the city to a quiet residential building I had never seen before.

He opened the door himself.

The apartment was nothing like the hotel or the glass-and-steel office. Dark wood. Soft lighting. A wall of windows looking out over the park. It smelled like him—clean soap and that darker undercurrent I had started craving.

“This is mine,” he...