'I will be back for you at eight thirty. Mr. Pitts hates people to be late.'

'Don't worry, Henry, you won't have to hang around waiting for me. I'll be ready.'

Malora closed the door, found her mobile, hit home, and waited for her sister's soft voice to answer. 'Hi, Rena, ' she said brightly.

'Where are you?'

'I'm at Titan's apartment.'

'When are you coming home?'

Malora swallowed. This would be the first time she would not return to her own bed. She knew it would be difficult for her sister. 'Not tonight, Rena. I won't be home tonight, but I'll be there first thing in the morning.'

First she went silent. Then she expelled a soft sigh. 'All right, Mal. I will see you tomorrow. Be safe.'

'See you tomorrow, Rena. Give Louis a kiss for me.'

Malora walked down the enameled corridor and went into the main bedroom. It was very large with a huge bed. The décor was all dark and silver. She kicked off her shoes and walked barefoot on the luxurious carpet towards the bathroom. The bathroom was a green marble and gold fittings affair. There was a Jacuzzi bath and a large shower cubicle. By the washbasin, lush toiletries still in their packages, had been laid out for her use. Malora unwrapped a pale green oval of soap and washed her hands.

Afterwards, she opened cabinets and found them all empty. Malora went back into the bedroom and walked through to the chestnut dressing rooms. The built-in wardrobes were all as bare as the bathroom cabinets.

So Titan didn't live here.

This place was merely for sexcapades.  The thought of several women walking into this place, marvelling at its decor for the very same reason she was here, left a bitter in her mouth. Shaking her head to rid herself of her thoughts, Malora walk out of the bedroom and headed for the kitchen.

It was done up in deep blue with glossy black granite worktops and surfaces. There was an island in the middle and stools around it. When she was young Malora dreamed of such a kitchen. She perched on one of the tall stools, swiveled around a few times, and hopped off. Malora ventured to a cupboard and open it. As Blake said, it was filled with stuff—expensive stuff that was never found in their poor cupboards. Tin's of biscuits from Fortnum and Masons, Jellies from Harrods, French chocolates with fancy names. Malora took a few down and admired the exquisite packaging.

Then she shut the cupboard and turned toward the fridge. More exotic stuff: truffles, hand-made blue cheeses, gooseberries, cuts of dried meats, wild smoked salmon, a dressed lobster, finger foods, caviar. . . The vegetable drawer was packed with organic produce. Even the eggs had blue shells. There were several bottles of champagne lying on their sides. Malora took one. It had a dark green glass, foil that seemed to hover somewhere between gold and silver, and an austere label reading CHAMPAGNE KRUG CLOS DU MESNIL 1988.

'Hmnn. . .' Malora said into the silence.

Carefully, she peeled back the foil and the wire that held down the cork. Holding the bottle between her thighs she twisted the cork as she had seen a waiter do, but it took many tries, and when it finally popped out, she had shaken the bottle so much, it sprayed everywhere.

Malora cleaned up with some paper napkins, and finding a glass in one of the cabinets poured herself a drink. Carrying the glass she went back into the living room, slid back the doors, and stepped outside. She stood there for a long while looking at the wonderful view of the park and surrounding area, but she could feel no joy in her heart. Her thoughts were with Rena and baby Louis. Eventually Malora closed her eyes and prayed that all will be well.

Malora raised her glass to the sky. 'Oh, Louis,' she whispered, 'be well again.'  Then Malora brought the glass to her lips and drank to her nephew's health. 

The champagne tasted like like. . .if there was a unicorn made out of vanilla and sparkles, and it was running through a field of primroses on a spring morning to meet its best unicorn friend for honey cakes. . . like. . . if that was champagne. Or like. . .you had a pear, right, that had lived a life of absolute virtue and had reached a higher state of pear. . .and if that pear was nestled into the bosom of a nymph, with flowers in her hair, bathing in a crystalline spring in the Elysium fields.

Malora finished the glass, made her way back to the kitchen to pour herself another glass. By the time she finished the second glass there was not enough time to try the Jacuzzi bathtub, so she had a shower. The water soothed her nerves from all sides until she was completely relaxed.

Invigorated by the shower, Malora went through her shopping bags with some measure of excitement. The bruises from the night before meant that she was only able to wear the Vintage silk shirt. She pulled on the tight leather trousers that ended at her ankles and slipped on the strappy heels.

Then she did her eyes the way Miranda taught her to and painted her lips soft pink. Malora was so nervous her hands trembled slightly. Dressed, Malora went back into the living room and poured herself another glass of champagne.

At eight thirty sharp the bell rang.

Henry came in with a large, flat cardboard box, which he carefully placed on the side table. 'I was asked to drop this off for Mr. Pitts. You look beautiful, Miss McCarran,' he complimented awkwardly.

'Thank you, but will you call me Malora, Henry?'  The champagne had made her feel light-headed and Malora smile at him mistily.

'Of course, Malora,' he said, smiling.

*

It took him long enough to arrive that Malora passed through various cycles of waiting for him and had somehow lost track of time. She almost drank the whole bottle of champagne just to spite him for being stood up, but reconsidered. He owned her after all.

Titan did finally turn up at about ten o'clock—in dark blue pinstripes, a white shirt, and a plain blue tie, looking classically austere and so Business Insider gorgeous, it made her hands tremble—Malora was curled up in the sitting area, creepily Google-stalking him for information and wearing leopard-print lounge trousers and a pink I'm A PANSEXUAL ELF T-shirt.

She guiltily slammed the lid closed on the laptop she'd found in the study. 'Um, hi.'

'Hello, Malora. How are you?'

Honestly, she was giddy and dazed and so desperately thrilled to see him that she wanted to jump into his arms. Except she got suddenly self-conscious because. . .well, she was staying in his apartment, and the reason she was staying in his apartment was to uphold her end of the contract, and she wasn't sure how she was supposed to behave.

'I am good,' she managed finally. 'And you?'

'Likewise.'

OMG. Likewise? Who even said that in this age?

Malora gazed at him, speechless, mortifyingly wounded by a social tic. And then she felt like an idiot because what the fuck was she expecting? He'd made his terms super clear and she'd agreed to them. It was hardly a scenario that was going to involve him romancing her face off.

'Are you settled in?' he asked.

'Um. Yeah. Thank you. It's quite a place.'

He glanced around as if his own apartment was totally unfamiliar to him. 'When I heard of the development, it seemed like it would be a valuable investment.'

'Y'know'—she snapped her fingers—'that's the first thing I thought about it too.'

To her surprise, he chuckled.

She'd made him laugh and her heart unknotted itself a little. He leaned over her, his hand brushing her cheek. 'Do you want to…?'

She did want to. She really wanted to. But suddenly she panicked.

'Um, actually'—Malora did her best to muster an appealing smile—'I was wondering if we could maybe. . .talk first.'

His gaze hardened. 'I didn't pay you so that we can talk, Malora.'

'Of course. Anything you want.'
Well, that was easy. Her smile died on her face. Malora berated herself for even suggesting that in the first place. Of course, the man was only there collect his reward.

Her face must have reflected her hurt, because he sighed and asked, 'Money's in the bank?'

Malora nodded.

'We're good?'

She nodded again.

'I gave you what you need; now you will give me what I need.'

Malora nodded, ashamed by her own reluctance. It was a deal and he did keep his side of it.

'I'll pour us a drink. Change into those and meet me in the bedroom,' Titan said, gesturing towards the flat box that Henry brought in and put on the side table earlier. Then he turned his back on her and walked down that beautiful corridor into the living room.

Malora took the box and turning into the first door in the corridor, made her way into the main bedroom. Dropping the box at the foot of the bed, Malora turned on the bedside lights, and turned down the bed. The she picked the box, went into the bathroom and closed the door. Inside the box were wisps of lace and silk. She took them out.

A little dress in some transparent black material, an all lace bra, a thong, suspenders and silk stockings and a pair of platform shoes very similar to the ones she was wearing the night they met. Except for the fine ribbons on the suspenders, everything was in black color. She glanced at the size on the bra.

Of course. 32B.

Malora slipped out of her clothes and got into the bra and suspenders. Then she carefully pulled on the stockings. She had never worn suspenders before and the little hooks were fiddly and took her a long time. Malora heard a noise in the bedroom. Titan had already come in. Nervously, she pulled on the lacey white knickers and looked at herself in the mirror. She could hardly believe it was her. Malora rinsed with mouthwash, took a deep breath and, opening the door went into the bedroom. And just stood there staring, her heart crashing against her ribcage.

Good God!

He was lying shirtless on the bed, propped against pillows, all sexy and toned and. . .and bristling with animal magnetism. There was not an ounce of fat on that sleek body. This was definitely not a man who imbibed Hobnobs. His legs were crossed at his ankles and his eyes were hooded. There was no expression on his face and no way of knowing what he was thinking. There was also something very bad and exciting about being in that lush bedroom with a cold, cold ,CEO of a multinational banking and financial services holding company who has paid for you.

'Come closer,' he commanded.

Chapter dedication: flakeyowo

Because. . .well, she's amazing.

A/N:

Baby, come closer. Yeahhhhhhhhhhhh!

So, what do you think about the chapter in general?

Did you think Titan would take Malora out as he said?

What made him change his mind?

And who is this mysterious man?