Page 56 of Double Down
He backs away, leaving my body aching and a whine on the tip of my lips.
Mav’s low laugh skims my skin while he slaps my ass, playful. “Punishments first, Firebird. Rewards later. I have work to do.”
He stands as Con opens a laptop and places it on the desk in front of me.
“I need to make some calls. I want you in the room, listening—silently. No one can know you’re here. Your job is to take notes. Any numbers mentioned. Percentages. Details.”
“I can do that,” I say, knowing he probably doesn’tneedme to—but it’s a way to prove myself.
He sets a pad of paper on the desk opposite of where he will sit and gestures to the hard, polished chair.
It looks uncomfortable even without a toy inside me.
“How well do you know the day-to-day of the resort and casino?”
“How well do you know the numbers?” I counter.
He lifts an eyebrow as I adjust, trying to get comfortable around the pressure inside me.
“Con, I grew up here as much as you did—more, honestly, because I never went to college.” I lift a hand to stop him before he argues—earning what I’m sure will be my fourth punishment before Mav gets back. “I don’t know the numbers or contracts, but I know the staff. Who does what. Who’s always late. Who’s late but works harder than anyone on their shift. Who gets the raises and whodeservesthem.”
“For the entire property?”
“No,” I admit. “Hotel, restaurants, casino. The spa people don’t really hang with the rest of us.”
“Them.”
“What?”
“The spa people don’t hang out with the rest ofthem. Not us. You are not hotel staff anymore, Princess. You’re one of us. Ours.Take notes. If there’s anything I need to know, write it down and show me. Not a single sound. Understood?”
Ours.
The word lands like a promise and a threat all in one, braided tight with the memory of that text thread—of a “bet” that ends with me choosing and losing.
Maybe I don’t belong to anyone. Maybe I belong to all of them until the game ends.
My brain stutters, spins, stops against a wall of pleasure and doubt.
I force myself to take a breath. I…don’t think I had really thought that far ahead. Hadn’t considered what all of this meant, long term.
I won’t get to stay with them, not really.
There’s no world in which they actually want me to stay. No wonder they made the bet.
When we’re done, it’ll be as though I had stolen that watch—except I won’t be a thief. I won’t have to run to start my new life.
I’ll just be alone.
I swallow back the burn of sudden tears and lift my chin.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl,” he says, taking his seat as I shift in mine.
He dials the first number on the black desk phone and hits the speaker so that we both get to hear.
I’m ready—pen in hand, poised to write and make myself useful.
