I was falling for her.

Fast and hard.

This arrangement of ours was meant to be strictly about domination and submission. Still, somehow, Emma managed to sneak into my heart and carved a comfortable space for her there. What was insane was how it all had happened so fast–crazy fucking fast, but it didn't surprise me. She was too special not to like, or in this case, love. I just...I wasn't prepared for it. I hadn't been looking for it, but I guess feelings would occur whether you planned on it to happen or not.

The knowledge that this woman had my heart in her hands wasn't a good feeling. If I knew she would be with us, that she would become our submissive permanently, then I wouldn't have felt my stomach twist and turn like it was doing now.

It was frightening, the thought that she might leave us. After all, wasn't that what we had agreed upon? A temporary arrangement until either of us found what we had been looking for. I mean, come on, we fucking said we would help her find a dominant for her. How fucked up wasn't that? I couldn't possibly give her away. I might've tricked myself into believing that when the time came, it would be easy–okay, maybe not easy, but not impossible either.

Would she be willing to stay with us? If we all agreed to have her as a submissive rather than as a slave? I needed to talk to the guys about that. All I knew was that I didn't want to lose her. Not now, and not ever. If I had to give a part of myself up for that to happen, so fucking be it. She was worth all of that and more. I just hoped my friends felt the same.

At dinner after the bowling match, we'd asked her what she wanted from us, seeing as that sneaky little girl won our game. Emma had been smart, telling us she would save it for whenever she felt like using them. She'd called us her own personal genie, complete with her three wishes, making us laugh–well, I could definitely see the corner of Gideon's lips tug just a little.

It had been two days since we dropped her off at her place. It had been one day and twenty hours too long. I already missed that girl of ours.

Huh. Ours. When I first thought about sharing her with my friends, I had a bit of doubt that it would work out. I felt a little jealous that she wouldn't only ever be mine. But this past week showed me that it couldn't have gone any better. It was almost comforting, knowing my friends were taking care of her–that she would never be alone if she needed someone by her side. Not only that, but the way I'd seen her with both of them... made me happy. I'd never seen Callan or even Gideon be so at peace. She was bringing out the best in all of us.

My briefcase weighed me down as I entered NYU. There wasn't much in it, but that thin letter of resignation felt heavy. Not one part of me wanted to do this, but I felt I didn't have a choice. Rebecca meant everything to me. If I could spare her some hurt, I would do it–even if it meant quitting my job to make sure our father's business stayed in the family. I knew that if she could, she'd take over the company in a heartbeat, but she didn't know how to run a business. Not yet, anyway.

I started working as a professor straight after I was done with my Ph.D. as a twenty-seven-year-old. Yeah, I was a young professor, but it had been done by others many times before. I was stricter than most, wanting my students to respect me despite my age.

For seven years, I've worked at New York University. And for seven years, there hadn't been one time I hadn't wanted to go to work. Father wanted me to work in business, but I found my job learning it to others instead. This was my passion, and I was going to leave it all behind.

Maybe I could come back to this at one point. I knew Rebecca wanted to get a business degree and work at Wright enterprise in between her studies. But still, it would take at least a few years to get it done, and I'd be stuck there until then.

The inside of the building was quiet. There wasn't any laughter flowing down the hall or masses of people talking all at once. It felt unnatural, and I couldn't wait for the first semester to start–the first semester that would also be my last.

I hated it. I hated that these next few months would be the end of my career as a professor. And still, I'd give up everything to make my sister happy. She was already going through so much, with Father being sick and all. For some reason, she still loved him, and while I couldn't understand it for shit, I respected her feelings.

My department chair was a stern sixty-year-old woman, but we got along great. I didn't need to think as I moved down the hallway, knowing every twist and turns like the back of my hand.

This place had felt like a home to me for so long. This was where I'd studied and then later worked. How crazy wasn't that? A total of sixteen fucking years in this place.

Walking to Mrs. Peterson's office, I stopped by her assistant. Mrs. Peterson had a problem with either firing her assistants, or they quit. Now, there was a young woman who'd replaced a young man–or had she replaced a young woman, and the time before that had been a man...it was hard to keep up.

"Hi, my name is Mateo Wright. I have an appointment with Mrs. Peterson," I told the girl smiling at me shyly. The smile reminded me of Emma and how I already missed her. Just a couple of hours, and I would see her again, thank God. I felt sorry for the guys for having to wait for their night with her.

"Ah, yes. She'll be back shortly. You can take a seat over there." She nodded towards two comfortable-looking chairs. "Do you want something to drink while you wait? Coffee? Tea?" the girl offered.

"Some tea would be lovely, thank you," I answered gratefully. Accepting tea from people could go two ways. It would either be disgusting if made improperly, or it could be delicious.

A few minutes later, she handed me a cup, and it wasn't one of those cardboard cups either, but a ceramic one. Smiling my thanks, I accepted it. When it cooled down enough to drink, I took a hesitant sip. Satisfied that it tasted alright, I took a bigger one.

I'd just placed the empty cup on the side table by the time Mrs. Peterson walked in. She stopped by me and gave me one of her rare smiles.

"Mr. Wright, so good to see you again," she greeted me with a hint of warmth. Most people were scared of her because of her sternness, but I knew she needed to act as such. As a professor, I saw a lot of injustice towards women–especially those holding power. They were treated differently just because they weren't male.

Only a naïve person would think the society didn't still oppress women. Although it wasn't as bad as it had been, we were still far from equal. I read somewhere that closing the global gender gap would take nearly a hundred years to achieve, while I read elsewhere else that it could take over two hundred years. The bottom line was it was too fucking long. When the most important person in my life was a woman, it really didn't sit right with me.

"It's good to see you too," I said back. I had so much respect for this woman.

"Follow me." She nodded towards the door to the office.

Her office was organized and looked very professional, with books tucked away in bookcases and diplomas hanging proudly on the wall.

"Please, have a seat," Mrs. Peterson nodded at the chair behind her desk while she walked around to the front and sat down. "Now tell me, what brings you here today? I assume this isn't a social call?" she chuckled.

"I'm afraid not," I said, my voice heavy with emotions. "I'm here to resign."

Her brows shot up, almost reaching her hairline as she stared at me. "Okay, I didn't expect that." She sounded shocked; she knew how much I enjoyed my work. It wasn't that long ago that she commented how rare it was to see someone so interested in their job.

"Me neither," I forced out a chuckle. "Some personal stuff came up, and I won't be able to continue my work here. I'm going to finish this upcoming semester first, so we have plenty of time to find someone else to take over once I leave."

Grabbing my briefcase, I opened it and found the envelope. "Here's my official resignation letter," I said and handed it to her.

"I...I'm sorry to hear it, Mr. Wright."

We talked for some time, and when I left, I felt even more shitty than when I arrived. I felt like my future was now set in stone–a future I'd never wanted, but like fate, I couldn't escape it. The only thing that helped my somber mood was knowing I would see Emma soon.