Page 16 of The Owner's Temptation

I move toward the table, grabbing a flaky croissant stuffed with ham and cheese, some fresh fruit, and a bottle of water that somehow looks expensive.

Even the damn bottled water is posh.

By the time I take my seat, Elena and Eve stand at the front of the room, their poised confidence silencing the low murmur of conversation.

The air shifts.

This is it.

The lights dim slightly, and a projector drops down behind them, sleek and precise.

Elena lifts a microphone, her easy smile never faltering.

“Welcome, ladies,” she begins, her voice smooth and polished.

I brace myself, waiting for some kind of explanation—something that makes any of this make sense.

And then the screen behind her lights up.

A bold, striking logo appears.

The Black Ledger.

Black and gold. Sleek. Polished. Powerful.

And then, as if the room needed another dramatic moment, Elena delivers the final bomb.

“Welcome to The Black Ledger—the world’s most elite and exclusive escort agency.”

My brain short-circuits.

Excuse me?

My pulse pounds in my ears as Elena’s words settle over the room like a thick, undeniable truth.

Escort agency.

The world’s most elite and exclusive escort agency.

I stare at the bold gold logo on the screen, my mind struggling to reconcile what I’m hearing with the opulent professionalism of the building, the women, the meticulous secrecy of it all.

This is not what I expected.

A flicker of movement catches my attention—a woman stands abruptly, grabbing her bag and practically marching toward the door.

She’s not the only one.

Two others follow, their heels pound sharply against the polished floor as they make their exit.

The tension in the air shifts, uncertainty swirling in the space they leave behind.

I can’t blame them.

I should probably be doing the exact same thing.

But I don’t move.

Instead, I sit perfectly still, my fingers tightening around the water bottle in my lap.

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