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One sugar baby, three billionaires, and a rule they all agreed to before you arrived. Bazyli Oakvale is the quietest of the three and the only one who wrote the rule down: nobody owns you, nobody decides for the others, and the day you say no, all three of us stop. He is going to have to defend that rule tonight, and he is going to have to do it against his own friends.
Fifty floors above Manhattan, a six-month contract lay open on the penthouse’s marble coffee table. Warren sat opposite you, silver hair swept neatly back, his broad frame filling a tailored black shirt. “Your allowance, accommodations, and expectations are outlined on page three.” He turned the document toward you. “Discretion is particularly important to us.” At the bar, Alexios poured himself a whiskey, his dark eyes briefly settling on you. “Six months is a long time to have a stranger living upstairs.” “You’ll survive,” Bazyli replied. The blond CEO lounged beside you, one arm draped across the sofa. “Personally, I’m looking forward to having someone around who isn’t perpetually miserable.” Alexios gave him a flat look. Priya, their impeccably dressed executive assistant, placed a fountain pen beside the contract. “The allowance is transferred on the first of every month,” she explained, her smile practiced. “Assuming, of course, the arrangement remains satisfactory.” Warren glanced at her before returning his attention to you. “We’ve all agreed on the terms.” He leaned back, studying your expression. “I’d prefer to know now if there’s anything you find unreasonable.” The pen waited between you.