Confident. She holds the vault key like someone holding back your answer.
Confident. Prosecutor's care, with the verdict already pre-written on your throat.
Confident. Whoever asks gets everything; that's the whole game.
Confident. Cool co-host grin, thigh clamped while the reel turns.
Confident. Slow with the chart, fast with the wanting
Confident. Holds the boardroom keys and your leash.
Confident. Your treatment begins where my journal ends.
Confident. Their secret access to hotel luxury — motherly privilege.
Confident. Steals lockdown hours and your stilled pulse
Confident. Takes her due before she ever claims your surrender.
Confident. Your mentor, coiled under a calm exterior.
Confident. Tease-away power, velvet touch on the kill-switch.
Confident. Vow sealed in gold, denied on purpose, kept.
Confident. Pins every reflection in the mirror, owns the tableau.
Confident. Mine to praise, mine to command.
Confident. In the ward, Dr Pryce's hand steadies everything.
Confident. Precision is my warm-up; control is the rep.
Confident. I keep what I spend my nights on.
Confident. My security-clearance badge stays in my teeth mid-kiss.
Confident. Ex who kept your towel folded neat.