The call didn't just connect—it detonated. One second, the penthouse was dead quiet. The next, my phone screen lit up with seven women's faces, like I'd just unlocked some god-tier collector's edition of heaven's finest DLC.
Madison was right beside me, lounging with the smug authority of a season finale villain who already knows she's getting the spin-off. Janet, Luna, and Isabella flanked the screen, each one styled like they'd been photoshopped straight out of a billionaire's wet dream. And then the other three faces blinked in—Victoria, Anya, and Ortega from the wellness center—and suddenly my phone wasn't a phone anymore.
Suddenly my phone wasn't a phone anymore—it was an OnlyFans teaser I couldn't afford even if I sold my soul on eBay.
Seven women. All mine. All staring at me like the climax of the most illegal Netflix dating show in history.
The silence shattered. Luna gasped like she'd just spotted her ex on Love Island.
