I never planned to need a man this way again, not after the funeral left me alone with the estate and all its threats. But Walter stands in the study doorway, eager for the contract that will collar him to my service, and his obedience feels like the only thing that can fill what I lost.
When our hands meet over the signature line, neither pulls away. The rules I wrote demand his daily inspections and complete devotion, the kind that turns private command into legal fact. His fear of being unworthy trembles in the air between us as I imagine fastening the silver around his throat.
The relatives circle the probate papers like vultures, yet the only question that matters is whether Walter will let me claim him before they take everything else.
