The moment the front door clicks shut behind them, a hush falls. Not from peace but from anticipation.
Janelle doesn't speak. Her bag hits the floor. Her heels echo across the marble.
Mirabel locks the door with one soft click… then turns.
Their eyes meet no games this time.
Just years of damage... lust... possession... and something else they never say aloud.
"I meant what I said," Janelle breathes.
Mirabel steps closer. "Which part?"
"That I belong to you."
Mirabel's lips twitch, but she doesn't smile. She slides a hand down Janelle's waist. "Then act like it."
And then, as if on cue
The doorbell rings.
Mirabel doesn't flinch.
Janelle tilts her head. "You expecting someone?"
Mirabel nods once. Calm. Cruel. "Three, actually."
When Janelle opens the door, the sight knocks the breath from her chest:
Naya, dressed in nothing but a sheer black bodysuit and heels, holding a leash.
Aster, kneeling beside her in a soft collar and lace, eyes lowered but cheeks flushed.
Kade, shirtless, golden chain around his throat, his pants already unbuttoned.
All three waiting.
All three silent.
Naya lifts her chin and says calmly, "We came to serve."
Mirabel leans in from behind, lips at Janelle's ear.
"You said you wanted peace... but you also wanted to burn."
They enter.
Mirabel and Janelle take their thrones on the velvet couch like queens.
Janelle's legs crossed, one brow lifted.
Mirabel cool, detached, but burning inside.
Naya pushes Aster forward. "She's dripping already.
Touched herself three times in the car."
Kade swallows. "I—I didn't touch anything. I waited like you said."
Janelle's voice turns soft, dangerous:
"Strip. All of you."
And they do.
One by one, skin exposed, knees hitting the floor.
Naya with that wicked smirk.
Aster trembling, thighs wet.
Kade hard—already.
Mirabel grabs Janelle's wrist. "Tonight, we rule them together."
---
To be continued