He has the power to say 'stop.' He has the right to exercise this power outside the walls of my safe haven. The code word is meant to protect the submissive from harm, but now, I wonder what there is to protect the dominant one.

He slips away from me like sand through my fingers. He slips away from me after spending the night in my bed; he didn't ask. He didn't need to. He just kissed me. I felt something that I hadn't in a long time; I felt a spark that began to awaken feelings that no dominatrix wants to rule her bed. I shake my head in an effort to clear his lingering presence from my mind. I feel his eyes on me; I know he's watching through the two-way mirror. I try to concentrate on what Detective Brass is saying.

I know this is dangerous. I don't normally engage in relationships with men. I hadn't for years; relationships were far too dangerous. Feelings turn from lust to love to jealousy; from my experience, it was a natural progression. I had been left like that far too many times. I guess Gil had just stopped the progression of things before someone got hurt; he was too late. I was already hurt; I wish I could look through the mirror to see if he was hurting too. Part of me wants him it too hurt; it would signify that he might just care about me . . . he might have cared about me.

Detective Brass badgers me about my insulin and its storage. I have nothing to hide; I read like an open book . . . he just needs to look closer. Brass is under the impression that my life is just as off-color as my business. It's not; it's never been. I don't understand why everyone wants it to be. I wish Brass would see that there was a woman inside this dominatrix.

Brass asks me about my girls. I love my girls; I'd never send them into a room with someone that I thought was dangerous. Brass and Gil don't understand the process that my clients need to go through before I will let my girls be alone with them. I screen them; I do background checks on them. My girls come before my clients; I ask my girls to be honest with me. I ask my girls to tell me about each man or woman that 'visits' with them; I've turned away some very rich men that have disrespected my girls. My girls only come second to my daughter; I had hoped that my girls would come third to Gil.

Brass lets me leave only after he is satisfied that I indeed was innocent of the crime. I think he wants me to be guilty; I think Brass wants me to be the bad woman he believes I am. I walk to my car; I want Gil to run after me. I feel so vulnerable; I haven't felt vulnerable in years. 'Lady Heather' wasn't vulnerable; just plain Heather was very vulnerable. 'Lady Heather' would never take Gil back; Heather would take him back in a second.

I wait by the window this evening; I'm waiting for him. My girls notice a difference; Noelle tried to comfort me. I appreciate her concern; I ask her to watch the door tonight. I tell her I'm going to retreat to my chamber tonight; tonight is the first night that I have closed my door in years. It's the first night since my husband passed away seven years ago. I cry into a red satin pillow; the pillow stifles my tears, but I'm not feeling any better. I walk around the room gently fingering the masks and antiques that I know he has touched; it makes me feel closer to him, but it also makes him feel farther away.

He doesn't come for me tonight. He's said 'stop.'