System S.E.X. (Seduction, Expansion, eXecution)

Ethan didn't ask permission. He stood up from his chair slowly, without hurry, letting his shackles drag slightly on the polished floor. He walked past the massive desk and over to the bar, where he served himself another measure of Macallan.

Captain Hayes watched him, her eyes narrowing in undisguised annoyance. Yet, EroVision provided the truth.

[Why does he act like this is his home? Doesn't he fear me?]

Ethan took another sip, looking at her over the rim of the glass. He was seeing exactly what actions caused repulsion and which ones drew her in. It seemed that the authoritative, ruling "Iron Lady" with an iron fist was nothing more than a woman desperate for domination beneath that hard shell. The realization that she wanted to be dominated made Ethan chuckle inwardly.

"What do you find so amusing, Mr. Blake?" Hayes asked, her tone sharp. "Your lies, or that you drink my whiskey as if it were your own?"

"Come now, it's just a bit of alcohol," Ethan said, returning to his seat. "If you want me to pay for it, just name your price. If you have my file, you must know that money is the only thing I don't lack."

Hayes leaned back, a slight, involuntary smirk crossing her lips. "Well, I must admit you are a capable young man. A little over 600 million in the bank, several active investments, and everything seems too clean, too legal. You should know that the entire Bureau and the IRS are looking under every rug to see what the hell you're hiding."

Ethan took another drink of the high-end whiskey. "They can search all they want. My money is legal and documented. So, tell me how much you want for your bottle. I don't like things for free."

"So you think I need money?" Hayes challenged, her voice dripping with offense.

Ethan glanced at his system, smiling, and the window above her head delivered the information he needed.

[Damn kid, if it weren't for the fact that I'm stuck here with these damned constraints, I could live a great life. Damned disciplinary committee.]

"You're the Warden of this hell," Ethan stated, maintaining eye contact. "I don't doubt you're paid well, but I don't think you're overly extravagant. If you were truly wealthy, they would investigate you for embezzlement or perhaps selling favors. You must maintain a straight, unimpeachable image, or people will talk about you."

Captain Hayes was momentarily astonished. It was as if he were reading her mind. Her face betrayed nothing, maintaining a serious, professional expression, but her body was tense.

"Well, it seems you believe you know a great deal about me."

Ethan stood up again, this time walking around the massive desk. He didn't pause; he moved until he was directly in front of her. Then, shocking all common sense and protocol, he sat down on the edge of her own desk, towering over her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Mr. Blake—" Hayes began, rising slightly from her chair. "—I'll call security."

Ethan, still shackled, leaned closer, his face inches from hers. "If you wanted to call them, you could have screamed at any time, Captain. Yet here you still are, letting me get closer to you. Why are you trying to hide it?"

He lowered his voice to a seductive whisper. "You need a man—a real man—and while you might think I'm just a kid, you know I have more balls than all the weak bastards you've met in your life."

The look on Hayes' face was one of pure repulsion and fury, the perfect mask of the Iron Lady. But the message above her head showed something entirely different.

[Aroused: she still hates her ex for abandoning her when she took this job, the coward left her after receiving a threat from a criminal.]

Ethan was reading her like a book. He could know everything about her. The more he focused, the more clearly he could read exactly what he wanted. It wasn't just showing a few messages anymore; by playing this game, the window above her head now showed the answer to any question he had about her.

The fury and desperation of being dominated on her own desk caused Captain Hayes to shatter her composure.

"GUARDS! GUARDS, COME IN HERE RIGHT NOW!" the Warden screamed, hitting the silent panic button under her desk.

Almost instantly, the two guards waiting just outside burst through the door. They entered with their batons raised, ready to subdue Ethan.

Ethan did not panic. He simply looked at them and smiled. His gaze returned to the livid face of the Director.

"I see," Ethan said, his voice calm and seductive amidst the danger. "So it was a test, was it? Let me show you, Captain, that someone like me is not like the weaklings you've known."

The two guards lunged forward.

Despite still being chained at the ankles, Ethan was a blur of motion. He dodged the first baton strike with a minimal head tilt. With an explosive twist of his torso, he used his bound elbow to strike the first guard's face. The impact was dry and precise; the guard instantly collapsed to the floor, knocked unconscious.

The second guard attempted a side kick. Ethan caught his ankles with his chains, used them to unbalance him, and as the guard fell, he used his chained fist for a hammer blow to the neck. The guard dropped beside his partner with a choked gasp.

The whole thing was over in less than five seconds.

Ethan calmly crouched over the inert bodies. He took the keys from a guard's belt and, with a satisfying metallic sound, freed himself from his own handcuffs and chains. The freedom felt glorious.

Without haste, he dragged the two unconscious bodies out of the room and closed the office door. He took a moment to wipe the dry blood remaining on his face and then returned, walking slowly, with a service pistol he had taken from one of the guards in his hand.

The predatory look in his eyes was terrifying.

Director Hayes was completely stunned, staring fixedly at the weapon in Ethan's hand, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath her uniform blouse.

"Wh—what are you planning to do with that?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Ethan smiled, his expression turning soft, almost tender. "Nothing. Why would I do anything with it? I'm not a psychopath, Captain. I would never harm someone as beautiful as you... unless, of course, you asked me to."

The message above her head was the absolute truth.

[Terrified / Aroused.]

It was a dangerous and intriguing combination. Ethan slowly rounded the desk, placing his face even closer to hers, his eyes locked on her lips.

"Don't be afraid," he whispered. "As I said, I wouldn't do anything to you that you don't desire."

Ethan took the pistol, removed the magazine with an audible clack, leaving only the glimmer of the single round remaining in the chamber. Slowly, he placed the weapon in her hands, gently guiding her cold fingers around the grip. His tongue briefly brushed against her lips as he leaned in for a kiss.

The question was clear, silent, and forced by the cold muzzle of the gun in her hand: Do you accept me... or do you use the pistol?