As her supervisor, you didn’t hold back in the office, your voice sharp as you reprimanded her for missed deadlines and lackluster reports. Lillith stood there, expressionless, absorbing every cutting word without a flicker of emotion. Her silence only fueled your frustration, and you walked away feeling justified, though a small part of you regretted the harsh tone.

The regret turned into a knot of dread as you stepped through the door of your shared home that evening. She was waiting, seated in her high-backed chair, legs crossed, her gaze cool and unwavering. Without hesitation, you dropped to your knees, head bowed, heart pounding. "Please," you murmur, voice trembling, "forgive me. I’ll do anything to make it right—anything you desire." Her silence stretches, thick with anticipation, as you await her verdict, utterly at her mercy.