Page 32 of The Owner's Temptation

I don’t comment. Some women romanticize this life. Others crumble under the pressure the moment it stops being a fantasy.

“Fifteen are left,” she continues, shifting in the chair. “But we’ll see who sticks around after the first Sponsor week.”

I nod again, scrolling through faces as she talks. Notes on etiquette training, style consultations, sexual boundaries. My eyes catch a flash of platinum blonde, then another with a sharp red bob.

Then—

Auburn.

Rich and full, the same way I remember it from the rooftop. The same hair I spotted across the Devil’s Playground last night, paired with a black bunny mask and eyes wide with want. Even in a two-inch thumbnail photo, she stands out. Like a flare in a dark forest.

Sienna Knight.

The woman in red.

The little rabbit who wandered straight into the wolves’ den.

And didn’t run.

Twenty-four years old. College graduate. Working–well–worked, in some go-nowhere corporate job when her degree would have taken her so much farther.

My thumb pauses just above her profile.

Eve doesn’t miss it.

“Oh yes. Your little protégé,” she says smoothly, tapping her pen against her clipboard. “I can see why you’re interested in her.”

“I’m not interested,” I say, enunciating the word like it offends me.

Eve snorts. “Riiight. And I’m a virgin.”

I lift a brow but don’t rise to the bait.

She leans back into her chair, one leg crossing over the other. “She’s doing well,” she adds after a beat, the smirk giving way to something more thoughtful. “Green in some ways, sure. Definitely inexperienced, especially sexually. But she’s observant. Composed when she wants to be. Smart. Determined. One of the few I think will graduate to sponsorship.”

I nod once, shifting the conversation. “What clients stepped forward?”

“The list just closed this morning. Mixer’s tomorrow night.”

I swipe back to the dashboard and pull up the pre-approved sponsor slate for this batch. Fifteen high-net-worth clients—curated, vetted, and aligned with our standards. All of them with experience in mentoring new recruits. All of them personally cleared by me weeks ago.

I find no fault in any of them. I wouldn’t have approved them if there was.

“As usual,” Eve continues, “they’ll meet the girls, bid on the ones they want to sponsor. Highest bid wins.”

Once the recruits make it past their initial training and assessments, they’ll divide their time between Ledger training and shadowing their sponsors. Clients that teach them the ropes in real-world settings. Personalized guidance. One-on-one mentorship.

And then graduation.

A mutual agreement between client and recruit. When the girls are ready, they sign off. The recruit becomes a Companion moves on to contract work.

I glance through the sponsor list again, though I’m barely registering the names. I know who they are. I know what they want.

My thumb hovers once more—this time over her name.

I should close the file.

“Who do you think the sponsors will want to match with?” I ask instead.

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