Under Her Will. Chapter 3: The True Name

The elevator stopped on the 27th floor. Leo got out without looking around. He was wearing the black collar tight around his neck, just as he had been ordered, and a small bag with clean clothes, although he knew he wouldn't be using them.

As he crossed the hallway and touched the door, there was no response. Just a slight click of the automatic lock.

He entered.

The room was dark, with only one candle lit on the floor. There was no furniture, no carpet, no bed. Just a red circular cushion in the center. On the wall, hung like a banner, was the symbol M. had used in his emails: a letter M embroidered in black on a gray background.

"Close the door," a voice ordered from somewhere in the darkness.

Leo obeyed. As he turned around, M. was already there.

He was dressed in black, as always. But that night, there was something different about his presence. It wasn't coldness. It was solemnity. As if everything before had been preparation for what was to come.

"Kneel down."

Leo got on the cushion without saying a word.

M. walked slowly around him. He didn't touch him. He didn't speak to him.

"You've been obedient. You've been moldable. You've been receptive."

He stopped in front of him.

"But now... I need to know if you can be loyal."

Leo looked up. He wasn't expecting that. He knew how to obey. He knew how to be quiet. But loyalty?

"Tonight, there won't be physical tests. There won't be ropes or blindfolds. Tonight... you'll give me something more."

M. placed a wooden box in front of him. He opened it. Inside, there was a printed document with the title "Temporary Submission Contract" at the top, and a black steel pen.

Leo read it. It was symbolic. Nothing legal. But it was full of powerful words: trust, voluntary renunciation, belonging, service, security, control word...

"Read everything. Then decide."

Leo did. He read every sentence. His hands trembled a little. Not from fear. But from the vertigo of real surrender.

When he finished, he looked up.

"I'm ready, Sir."

M. handed him the pen.

Leo signed as "Number Four".

The Master smiled, for the first time that night.

"You're no longer Number Four."

Leo looked at him, confused.

M. crouched down in front of him. He placed a firm hand on his neck, and said:

"From now on... you're Elio. That will be your name with me. Your true name. The one born from your surrender."

Leo felt a warmth in his chest that he wasn't expecting. The name wasn't his. He hadn't chosen it. But, for some reason, he felt it more intimate than any other he had ever had.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Get up, Elio."

He obeyed.

"Now," said M., "it's time to touch you."

And he did.

For the first time, without tests, without obstacles, without games...