AVA’S POV
I couldn't get Sophie's words out of my head. Six figures in one night. Something one-time only. Every time I tried to focus on my homework or eat dinner, those words came back to haunt me.
By Thursday evening, I was desperate enough to ask the question I'd been avoiding.
"Sophie," I said, catching her as she came back from her evening class. "That girl you mentioned. Emma. Do you think... do you think I could talk to her?"
Sophie stopped in the middle of taking off her jacket. She looked at me for a long moment, and I saw something like pity in her eyes.
"Ava, you don't want to go down that road."
"I don't have a choice. Elise has until tomorrow."
Sophie sat down on her bed and patted the space next to her. "Sit. Let me tell you what I know."
I perched on the edge of her bed, my stomach churning with anxiety and something that might have been hope.
"Emma didn't give me details, but she did say it wasn't what most people would think. It's not street corner stuff or anything dangerous like that." Sophie's voice was careful, like she was choosing each word. "It's more like... an exclusive service for very wealthy men."
"What kind of service?"
"The kind where discretion costs extra." Sophie looked uncomfortable. "Look, I have her number. I could reach out, see if she'd be willing to meet with you. But Ava, once you go down this path, you can't take it back."
I thought about Elise's scared voice on the voicemail. About the text she'd sent that morning: They're watching my apartment. I'm staying at a friend's place, but I can't hide forever.
"Set up the meeting," I said.
That afternoon, Sophie picked me up in her beat-up Honda. She was unusually quiet as we drove through the city, past the campus boundaries and into a part of town I'd never seen before. The buildings here were older, more elegant. Tree-lined streets with expensive cars parked along the curbs.
"Where are we going?" I asked as Sophie pulled into a parking spot in front of what looked like a private residence.
"Emma said to meet her here. She's going to introduce you to someone." Sophie turned off the engine and looked at me seriously. "Last chance, Ava. We can turn around right now and pretend this never happened."
I looked at my phone. Three missed calls from an unknown number. Probably Elise, calling from different phones because she was too scared to use her own.
"Let's go."
The house was beautiful in an understated way. Brick facade, perfectly manicured garden, heavy wooden door with an ornate knocker. Sophie rang the doorbell, and after a moment, a young woman answered. She was stunning – blonde hair in perfect waves, designer dress that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.
"Sophie?" Her voice was cultured, like she'd gone to private schools her whole life.
"Emma, this is Ava. The friend I told you about."
Emma's eyes swept over me, taking in my jeans and sweater, my nervous expression. "Come in. She's waiting upstairs."
The inside of the house was even more impressive than the outside. Hardwood floors polished to a mirror shine, artwork that looked like it belonged in a museum, fresh flowers in crystal vases. Everything screamed money and taste.
Emma led us up a curved staircase to the second floor and knocked on a door at the end of the hallway.
"Come in," called a woman's voice.
The room we entered took my breath away. Deep red velvet wallpaper, heavy curtains drawn against the afternoon light, antique furniture that looked like it had been imported from Europe. Candles flickered on side tables, casting dancing shadows on the walls. It felt like stepping into another century.
A woman sat behind an ornate desk, and she commanded the room without saying a word. She was probably in her forties, with dark hair pulled back in a severe chignon and the kind of bone structure that made her ageless.
Her dress was black and perfectly tailored, and when she looked up from the papers in front of her, her eyes were sharp and calculating.
"You must be Ava," she said, gesturing to the chair across from her desk. Her voice had a slight accent that I couldn't place. "Please, sit. Emma tells me you have a financial emergency."
I glanced at Sophie, who nodded encouragingly, then took the offered seat. The chair was more comfortable than it looked, covered in the same red velvet as the walls.
"I need twenty thousand dollars by tonight," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
The woman smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Straight to the point. I appreciate that." She poured herself a glass of wine from a crystal decanter, dark red liquid that looked almost black in the candlelight. "May I call you Ava?"
I nodded.
"Ava, what I'm about to explain to you is highly confidential. Nothing that happens in this room can be discussed with anyone outside of our organization. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Good." She took a sip of her wine and studied me over the rim of her glass. "We provide a very exclusive service to a very select clientele. Wealthy men who value discretion, quality, and authenticity above all else."
My mouth felt dry. "What kind of service?"
"Companionship. Of the most intimate variety." Her voice remained perfectly calm, like she was discussing the weather. "Our clients are willing to pay premium prices for experiences that cannot be found elsewhere."
I felt heat rise in my cheeks, but I forced myself to maintain eye contact.
"The compensation varies depending on several factors," she continued. "Experience level, specific requests, duration of engagement. But there is one category that commands the highest fees."
She paused, letting the words hang in the air.
"Virgins, you see, are exceptionally valuable to our clientele. The combination of innocence and exclusivity creates a perfect storm of desirability." She leaned forward slightly. "A single evening with the right client could easily meet your financial needs."
My heart was pounding so hard I was sure everyone in the room could hear it.
"The process is completely clean," she continued. "Medical testing for all parties, legal contracts, security measures to ensure everyone's safety. We operate in a gray area that is, shall we say, legal-adjacent. Our clients are screened extensively, and discretion is paramount."
She finished her wine and set the glass down with a soft clink.
"The transaction is final, of course. Once completed, there's no going back. But for the right young woman in the right circumstances, it can be life-changing." Her eyes locked onto mine. "The question is, Ava, how desperate are you?"