CHAPTER 5: THE TERMS

“You’ve got some nerve,” Nico said, leaning back in his leather chair.

“I know,” Ava’s voice was steady, though he could hear the faint tremor of desperation. “I need to talk business.”

“Business? You slapped me. That’s a hell of a way to start a negotiation.”

“I’m not negotiating. I’m offering,” she said. “I need money.”

She went quiet again.

He could hear her breathing. Fast, but trying to hold it together. “So,” Nico said. “The lioness finally comes out to play.”

Ava gripped the phone so tight her knuckles turned white. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window, closing her eyes.

“I’m not here to play games, Mr. Jordan,” she said. Her voice shook slightly, but she forced it to be steady. She refused to beg. “I know what you think of me. I know you think I’m just another girl who changes her mind when the money gets tight.”

“Are you?” he asked simply.

She flinched as if he had struck her again. “No. I’m not. But I need help. And you’re the only person I know who has the kind of money I’m talking about.”

There was a pause on the line. She could imagine him sitting there, probably in that expensive chair, swirling his whiskey, looking at her name on his screen with those dark, assessing eyes.

“How much?” he asked.

“Twenty-five grand,” she said, the number sounding huge and foreign even to her own ears. “And I need it fast.”

Nico let out a dry, dark laugh. “Twenty-five grand? You have expensive tastes for a girl who just got fired.”

“It’s not for me.”

“I don’t care what it’s for,” Nico snapped. What makes you think I’d give you a dime?”

“Because you want me,” she said, the words costing her every ounce of pride. “And I’m out of options.”

He laughed. “I’ve never seen such an aggressive prostitute.”

The word hit her like a slap. The insult burned deep, it was humiliating but she swallowed it. “Can you give it to me or not?” she snapped, her pride flaring up despite her situation.

“I can give it to you,” he said smoothly. “I can transfer it right now while we are on this call. It would barely make a dent in my account.”

“Then…”

“But,” he interrupted, his voice dropping an octave, becoming heavy and serious. “Nothing in this world is free. You taught me that last night, remember? Everything has a price.”

Ava swallowed hard. “I know. What do you want?”

“One night,” Nico said, his voice dropping to a predatory growl. “At my place. No spa rules. You do exactly what I say. No arguments. No slaps.”

The words hung in the air. One night. It was degrading, exactly what she had hated him for. But she thought of Grandma. She thought of the sterile hospital room and the bills piling up.

“Deal” she whispered.

“Say it again,” Nico commanded. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I’ll come,” she said, louder this time, her voice flat and resigned. “One night. Your terms.”

“Good girl,” he murmured. The praise sounded dirty coming from him. “Pack a bag. Wear something nice. Or don’t. It won’t matter for long.”

He ended the call.

Ava stood there for a long moment, the dial tone buzzing in her ear. Slowly, she lowered the phone. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably now.

She walked to her small wardrobe, pulled out the only decent suitcase she owned, and started throwing clothes inside. She chose a simple black dress. As she zipped the bag shut, her phone pinged.

TEXT MESSAGE: The car is outside.

She looked out the window. Down below, parked right in front of her shabby building, was a massive black SUV with tinted windows.

The driver didn’t speak beyond “Miss Moreau?” and held the rear door open. They left the crowded streets behind and climbed up into the hills, where the air was cleaner and the houses were further apart.

The black SUV pulled into the driveway of a mansion that looked like a fortress. Ava stepped out, her black dress clinging to her frame, her heart thundering in her ears.

Ava stepped out into a space that took her breath away. It was nothing like her rented room. She'd never seen floor-to-ceiling windows this beautiful, she caught herself wondering when she'd ever afford a place like this.

Nico was waiting by the bar, looking effortlessly powerful in silk trousers and an unbuttoned shirt. He watched her walk in, his eyes tracking her like a predator watching a lamb. He took in the dress, the suitcase in her hand, the pale set of her face.

That direct stare made her skin prickle.

“You came,” he said, walking towards her. He stopped just a few feet away, close enough for her to smell that expensive cedar.

“I keep my word.” She replied, lifting her chin.

A faint smile touched his lips. He liked that she still had fire. “Pride looks good on you,” he said, walking around her in a slow circle, like a wolf inspecting its prey. “But leave it at the door, Ava. Tonight, there is no boss, no employee, no slaps and insults. Tonight, we are just a man and a woman making a transaction.”

“You still think you can handle this?” he asked quietly.

Ava met his gaze without flinching. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He let out a low breath, and smirked. She was shaking inside; he could see it in the tiny tremor of her fingers. But she wasn’t running.

He reached out, brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The touch was light, his thumb lingered a second longer than necessary against her skin.

He stopped in front of her again.

“Here are the terms,” he said, his voice low and firm. “You stay here for twenty-four hours. You do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you. You don’t question me. You don’t argue. And you don’t touch me unless I tell you to.”

Ava’s heart hammered against her ribs. “And after?”

“After,” Nico said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out his phone, tapped it a few times, and held it out to her.

Ava phone pinged. Transaction Approved: Twenty-five grand.

“It’s done,” he said softly. “The money is in your account.”

He gestured with his head toward the massive bedroom door down the hall, his eyes darkening.

“Let’s be clear about the terms this time.”

She held his eyes one more second, then turned and walked toward the hallway.

Nico watched her go. He poured another finger of scotch, drank it in one gulp. Then he followed.

Nico closed the door behind them. The sound clocked, final. He turned. Ava stood in the middle of the bedroom, black dress still on, hands clasped in front of her like she was waiting for a job interview.

“Take off your clothes,” he ordered.