Stacey Kim was living it up.

The penthouse suite was everything she’d dreamed of—floor-to-ceiling windows, a kitchen with marble countertops, a bathroom with a soaking tub big enough for three. She’d gotten it for a steal, too. The realtor, a slick man in a too-tight suit, had been surprisingly… amenable after sharing a celebratory glass of champagne with her. He’d barely blinked when she’d suggested a price that was frankly insulting, just nodded and said, “You know what, Stacey? That sounds perfectly reasonable.” A tiny droplet of violet-tinged saliva, dissolved in his drink, had done the trick. He’d signed the papers with a glassy, happy smile.

Now, it was home. Her home. Ava and Gabbie lived there too, of course. They were curled up on the massive sectional like pampered pets, which, Stacey mused, was essentially what they were.

“Ava,” Stacey said, not looking up from her magazine. She was lounging in a silk robe, one leg draped over the arm of her chair.

Ava immediately stood up, her expression one of serene devotion. “Yes, Master?”

“I’m feeling a bit tense. Come here.”

Ava padded over and knelt gracefully between Stacey’s legs. Without another word, she leaned in, her skilled tongue seeking and finding its target. Stacey sighed, leaning her head back. Perfect. Gabbie watched from the couch, a small, eager smile on her face, waiting her turn. This was the life. No more teaching downward dog to bored suburbanites. She’d taken care of that, too.

The gym owner, Brett—a burly, permanently scowling meathead who’d once criticized her playlist—was now her most loyal employee. Well, former owner. A slime-spiked protein shake during a “contract negotiation” had seen to that. He’d signed over the business, the building, and a very generous ongoing profit share to her without a hint of resistance. The papers were almost finalized.

She’d even sampled the goods in the penthouse next door—a handsome finance bro named Marcus. A kiss at the elevator, a bit of tongue, a microscopic gift left behind. He’d invited her in for a nightcap that turned into a weekend. He was now utterly convinced he was madly in love with her and that giving her his spare key was his own brilliant idea.

Stacey was building an empire. A carefree, pleasure-filled harem of the useful and the beautiful. And it was all thanks to the little, pulsing power nestling inside her. It wasn’t …