Eva didn't sleep.
She'd tried....had gone through all the motions of someone preparing for rest. Brushed her teeth. Changed into pajamas. Pulled the blankets up to her chin and closed her eyes. But sleep required a quiet mind, and her mind hadn't been quiet since she'd hit send on that email at 4:31 in the morning.
I'll sign.
Two words that had changed everything.
Now it was 9:47 AM, and Eva sat at her tiny kitchen table with her third cup of coffee going cold between her hands, staring at her laptop screen. Her email inbox was open. The sent message sat there at the top, timestamped and permanent.
She'd sold herself to three men she'd never met.
For two million dollars.
To save her mother's life.
All of those things were true, and Eva couldn't decide which one she was supposed to feel most strongly about. The guilt? The relief? The low-grade terror that had been humming under her skin since she'd walked off that stage and felt those eyes tracking her every movement?
Her phone buzzed against the table, making her jump.
Kenneth's name lit up the screen.
Eva stared at it for two rings before she found the courage to answer. "Hello?"
"Eva." Kenneth's voice was professionally neutral, but she could hear something underneath it...concern, maybe, or resignation. "The Blackwoods received your acceptance. They'd like to meet with you today to finalize the contract."
Today.
Her stomach dropped. "When?"
"This afternoon. Two o'clock. They're sending the address now...it should come through as a text in a moment." He paused. "Eva, you don't have to do this. You can still back out. The offer hasn't been formally accepted yet, the contract isn't signed..."
"I'm not backing out," Eva said quietly.
Another pause. Longer this time. "Alright. The car will pick you up at one-thirty."
"I'll take a cab."
"Eva..."
"I'll take a cab, Kenneth. I need..." She trailed off, searching for the right words. What did she need? Control? The illusion of choice? One last hour of being a woman who could still make her own decisions about something as simple as transportation? "I need to do this my way."
Kenneth sighed. "Fine. I'll send you the address. But Eva....call me when you're done. Let me know you're okay."
"I will," she lied.
She hung up before he could push further.
The text came through thirty seconds later. An address in the Northern Territory, the kind of neighborhood where property values started at eight figures and gate codes were a bare minimum requirement. Eva had never been past the boundaries of that area. She'd driven by it once, seen the massive estates set back from the road behind stone walls and ancient trees, and understood immediately that it was a world she would never be part of.
Until now.
She looked at the clock. 9:52 AM. She had four hours.
Eva set down her coffee and walked to her closet.
What did you wear to sign a contract that sold your body for six months?
Eva stood in front of her open closet at 12:15 PM and genuinely didn't know the answer. She'd tried on four different outfits already, a black dress that felt too formal, jeans and a blouse that felt too casual, a skirt and top combination that looked like she was trying too hard.
She'd settled, finally, on simplicity. Dark jeans that fit well without being overtly sexual. A fitted grey sweater that was soft and expensive-looking...a gift from Maya two birthdays ago that Eva had worn maybe three times because it felt too nice for her normal life. Her hair down and natural, falling around her face in loose waves because she didn't have the energy to fight with a flat iron. Minimal makeup...just enough to look polished, not enough to look like she was performing.
She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and saw a woman who was trying very hard to appear calm.
Her hands were shaking.
Eva forced herself to take three deep breaths. This was a business meeting. A contract negotiation. She'd negotiated contracts before—admittedly not contracts that involved her body and six months of her life, but the principle was the same. Go in. Read the terms. Sign the papers. Leave.
Simple.
Her phone said 12:47 PM.
She grabbed her bag....an oversized canvas thing that had seen better days, and left her apartment before she could talk herself out of it.
The cab ride took forty minutes.
Eva watched the city change through the window as they drove north...the buildings growing taller and then shorter again, the streets getting cleaner, the cars getting more expensive. By the time they crossed into the Northern Territory proper, she was the only person on the sidewalks who looked like they'd ever taken public transportation.
The driver, a man in his sixties who'd been blessedly quiet for most of the ride, glanced at her in the rearview mirror as they turned onto a private road. "You sure about this address, miss? This is... well, this is Blackwood territory."
Eva's stomach tightened. "I'm sure."
"Just checking." He didn't sound convinced. "Not many humans come out here voluntarily."
She didn't know what to say to that, so she said nothing.
The road curved through dense forest....actual forest, somehow preserved in the middle of one of the most populated cities in the world...and then opened up into a clearing.
The estate sat at the end of a long driveway like something out of a gothic novel.
It was massive. Three stories of dark stone and tall windows, with towers at each corner that made it look more like a fortress than a home. The architecture was old money and older power...gothic arches, intricate stonework, the kind of place that had been built to impress and intimidate in equal measure. The grounds stretched out in every direction, manicured lawns giving way to more forest, and Eva could see outbuildings in the distance that were probably bigger than her entire apartment building.
The cab rolled to a stop at the base of the front steps.
"That'll be forty-eight dollars," the driver said, and his voice had gone carefully neutral in the way people's voices did when they were trying very hard not to comment on something.
Eva paid him in cash...leaving a generous tip because her hands needed something to do, and stepped out onto the driveway.
The cab pulled away immediately, gravel crunching under its tires, and then she was alone.
The estate loomed above her, all dark stone and tall windows that reflected the afternoon sun like watchful eyes. Eva could feel the weight of it...not just the physical structure, but something else. Something that pressed against her skin like atmospheric pressure before a storm.
Power.
This place radiated it.
Eva forced herself to climb the front steps. There were twelve of them...she counted. each one made of the same dark stone as the rest of the building. The front door was enormous, heavy wood reinforced with iron, the kind of door that was meant to keep things out.
Or keep things in.
She raised her hand to knock.
The door opened before her knuckles made contact.
A woman stood in the doorway...fifties, maybe, with steel-grey hair pulled back into a severe bun and the kind of posture that suggested a lifetime of service in places like this. She wore a simple black dress and an expression that gave away absolutely nothing.
"Miss Santos," the woman said. Not a question. "You're expected. Please come in."