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shuts down during any free time I have. I’ve settled into a routine of seeing Adrien in the evenings, staying over at The Shard several times a week. He loves to feed me, not only with food, but also my sexual appetite, and I treasure that time together. It was during one of our passionate hard sessions, that he made his first demand of me. I had no say. He told me I’m his, and I’ll be moving in with him as soon as he could make the arrangements. I wasn’t going to argue, not with my ankles locked around the back of his neck. I completely succumbed to his orders. 
    He’s been away for the last few days. In fact, he’s been on business quite a lot recently. But I suppose with the big shift in detail, handing over the reins to another chosen Executive, he has a lot of work to do.
    My phone beeps on the bedside table. I kick a box out of my path and sit on the bed. It’s from Adrien.
    Adrien: Elizabeth, I need you to text me back right away if you have received this.
    I scowl at the screen and tap on the thread.
    Me: Yep, I’m here, what’s wrong?
    I send with the impression there has been some kind of disaster happen, for him to send me a rare text message.
    Adrien: Good, I have a huge problem that must be dealt with ASAP! ;D
    Okay, is Mr anti-text-message, trying out his sexting skills on me. Smiley face, and the word huge, brings one thing to my mind.
    Me: Ok, and what can I do to help make this problem go away ? I giggle as I send.
    Adrien: Well, it will require a good firm grip of the situation. It requires kneading out. Is this something you’ll be able to get a handle of, Elizabeth?
    I chuckle to myself. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be this sexting. Adrien speaking raunchy to me, is much better, and more effective, face to face .
    Me: U have no idea how well I’ll be able to cure your hard problem ;)
    I wait, eager for his reply. He’s either thinking of what to send because he’s no match for me at this game, or he’s been called away.
    Adrien: I’ll pick you up at 7pm Elizabeth. By 9pm at the latest, I’ll be needing your body. Be ready.
    I’ve just about done. All five boxes of my worldly belongings are taped up, my bed has been stripped, and all my clothing packed into my suitcase.
    I straighten up, blowing my hair from my face. I know I can’t avoid her forever. Cate. When I came home from work early, she was moping around the flat like her world was coming to an end. But I’m getting married, and she needs to understand, I can’t stay here forever. My new address is going to be penthouse thirty-three, The Shard.
    I swallow and make my way into the lounge. Cate hasn’t even took her denim jacket off yet. She’s sitting on the sofa, arched over, snivelling. Oh no, my eyes begin to water. I don’t want to be depressed today, but I’m going to miss her, and this poky flat.
    “Cate,” I utter. “Do you fancy a drink?” I stay back in case she decides to pounce on me, and tells me I’m not going anywhere.
    “Yes,” she whimpers.
    It was an automatic reaction to nip into the off-license on the way home today. I knew she’d need a little pick me up. I take the bottle of German wine from the fridge with two glasses, and go to sit beside her.
    I pour out two full glasses, and slide one across the coffee table for her.
    “A toast,” I say, hoping she lightens up. “To us Cate.”
    Absolutely the wrong thing to say. Now she’s lost it completely, and is sobbing on my arm.
    “I’m sorry. I can’t pretend to be happy about this,” she sniffs. “Not that I’m not happy for you… it’s just that… that this is our place.”
    “Cate, I’ll only be ten minutes away,” I say. “I’ll still see you all of the time.”
    “It’s not the same,” she sniffles. “Who’s going to look after me when I’m hung-over? Who’s going to drag my ass out of bed for work? No more nights out. No more hair play. No girly chats while making cocktails,” she weeps. “I’m going to have