“We can’t assume anything,” Wes grumbles, flexing his hands like he’s already running through worst-case scenarios.
We’re all quiet for a moment as the full weight of the situation settles in. We’ve never dealt with the Dollhouse before; at least not directly. There’s no telling the lengths they’ll go to in reclaiming one of their assets.
Ford taps his fingers idly against Ava’s hip, thinking. “So what’s the move? Just keep her here until they get bored and move on?”
“Doubt it’ll be that simple,” Wes mutters.
“It won’t be,” I agree, leaning forward again. “Which is why we don’t sit around and wait for their next move. We stay ahead of it, think two steps out.”
Ford glances at me, one brow lifting. “You got a plan?”
“We cut every tie between Ava and the Dollhouse,” I murmur, thinking aloud. “Purge her files. Destroy any copies of that contract.” My gaze shifts to Ford. “You take point on that. See if your brother can get you in.”
“As if I need him,” he scoffs. “If Drew’s skills were half as good as mine, that place would already be ash.”
I don’t bother arguing. He’ll get it done either way.
“Then we move the shipment,” I continue. “Fast. Liquidate it, transfer the funds, clear her debt. Without a paper trail or any financial leverage, they’ll have no choice but to walk away.”
“Unless they think they can still get more out of her,” Ford muses, his implication clear.
Ava stiffens as she glances back at him, clearly sensing where this is going.
“Time to give up that v-card, babygirl,” he says lightly, squeezing her thigh.
Her gaze flicks toward me nervously. “Now?” she squeaks.
The tightness in her voice instantly pisses me off, like she’s bracing for something she doesn’t actually want. Like she’s not already wet between her thighs just fuckingthinkingabout it.
Ford gestures lazily in my direction. “I mean, if you want…”
“No,” I snap, shutting it down immediately.
Ava’s eyes dart to mine, and for a second, something flashes across her face. Something almost wounded, like she expected a different answer.
I ignore it.
All I can see is her in Ford’s lap. In his shirt. The echo of what I heard earlier threads back through my head, tightening my chest.
There’s a part of me that wants to ruin her.
Another that wants something else entirely.
To be first. To take something no one else gets. To have her come tomefor it.
I shove both instincts down before they can fully surface, steeling my expression and averting my gaze.
“This weekend, then,” Ford suggests after a beat, completely nonchalant.
Wes looks to Ava, studying her for a long moment. “You on board with that?” he asks, as if she has a fucking choice.
She hesitates, catching her lower lip between her teeth as she holds his gaze. Then her shoulders lift in a small, reluctant shrug. “I guess so.”
Ford claps his hands together once. “Alright, then. Meeting adjourned?”
“Yeah,” I grunt.
He gives Ava a light smack on the ass. “Up you go, beautiful.”
