I followed Cami through the heavy velvet curtains, expecting a sterile business meeting. Instead, I stepped into a candlelit lounge that smelled of expensive jasmine and high-grade weed.

​Sitting on a plush white leather sofa, framed by the dim neon glow, was Sasha—looking like she'd been expecting me the whole time. Beside her sat the woman who had dominated every headline for months: Evelyn Sun.

​Sasha's face lit up with a mischievous grin. "Oh, there he is," she purred, leaning back to give me a full view of the woman next to her.

​Evelyn Sun was a god-tier vision of modern sex appeal. She was a petite powerhouse with flawless, golden-tan skin and a face that looked like it belonged on a high-fashion runway. Her eyes were large, feline, and framed by thick, dark lashes that cast shadows on her cheekbones. She had her dark hair styled in two long, sleek braids that fell over her shoulders, giving her an innocent look that was completely betrayed by the predatory hunger in her gaze.

​She was wearing a sheer, white lace bodysuit that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. The intricate patterns barely masked the pink circles of her nipples, and the high-cut bottom showed off her toned, athletic thighs and the curve of a waist so narrow it looked like I could snap it with one hand.

​"Sasha hasn't stopped talking about you, Druski," Evelyn said, her voice surprisingly soft—a velvet contrast to the hard numbers she put up in the industry. She stood up, and I realized she was wearing skyscraper heels that put her eye-level with my chin.

​She walked toward me, her hips swaying with a confidence that came from knowing exactly what a hundred men looked like when they were at her mercy. She stopped inches away, the scent of her vanilla perfume swirling around us. She reached out a delicate, tattooed hand and ran a finger down the center of my shirt, right where Cami's scent still lingered.

​"The man who survived the flight, the Peninsula, and apparently my friend Cami's office," Evelyn whispered, her eyes searching mine. "I've handled a hundred men in a day, but I have a feeling you might be more work than all of them put together."

​Sasha giggled from the sofa, sipping her drink. "I told you, Evie. He's not a performer. He's a force of nature."

I looked Evelyn straight in the eyes, letting my gaze drift slowly down that white lace bodysuit before coming back up. "Pictures don't do you justice, Evelyn. You're even more stunning in person."

​She flushed, a small, genuine smile breaking through her professional mask. We sat down, and the vibe shifted from pure heat to high-stakes business.

​"Everyone's been watching your clips, Druski," Evelyn said, leaning in so close our knees touched. "The way you control the scene... it's different. You have this raw potential that most guys in this industry just don't possess. I don't just want to meet you; I want to work with you. I'm planning some exclusive content for my OnlyFans, and you're the only 'face' I want on the other side of the lens."

​I leaned back, curious. "I've seen the headlines, but I want to know about the machine. How's the OnlyFans business treating you?"

​A sharp, business-like glint entered her eyes. "Achievements? That's an understatement." She pulled a custom titanium-cased phone from her clutch and swiped through a few screens before handing it to me.

​I looked at the receipts. My eyebrows shot up. The numbers were staggering—direct deposits, subscription splits, and tip tiers. "I clear $1.5 million on an average month," she said casually, as if she were talking about the weather. "And that's a slow month."

​She turned her gaze to Sasha, who was swirling her drink. "I've been telling this girl for a year to jump on the platform. Sasha, you're an icon. Your legacy is huge, but your bank account could be ten times bigger if you just stopped being so old-school about distribution."

​Sasha sighed, leaning her head on my shoulder. "I know, I know. It's just... the production, the constant chatting, the marketing. I like the 'movie' aspect of what we do. The prestige. I'm just not sure I'm ready to be a 24/7 content machine yet."

​"Prestige doesn't pay for a Malibu estate, honey," Cami chimed in, leaning over the back of the sofa. "I see the numbers that go through this club. The girls making the real 'fuck you' money are the ones who own their own masters. Sasha, if you and Druski launched a joint project on there? You'd break the platform in twenty-four hours."

I nodded slowly, handing the phone back to Evelyn. "Sasha and I will definitely talk it over. It's a massive move, and we don't do anything half-measured."

​Evelyn's eyes twinkled with professional interest. "Smart. I'll put you in touch with my manager tomorrow morning. We can go over the contracts, the distribution rights, and of course, your fee. Trust me, Druski—a feature on my page is more than just a paycheck; it's a career accelerator."

​She reached into her small designer bag and pulled out a perfectly rolled joint. The smell hit me immediately—top-shelf California herb, sweet and pungent. She sparked it up, took a deep, elegant drag that made her lace bodysuit tighten over her ribs, and exhaled a cloud of silver smoke into the neon light.

​She passed it to me, and for the next twenty minutes, the four of us just vibrated on the same frequency. We talked about the madness of LA, our favorite hidden spots in Tulum and Mykonos, and shared stories about the most absurd places we'd ever been caught having sex. Between the champagne, the weed, and the company, I was feeling like I truly owned the city.

​Evelyn stood up, her long braids swaying as she looked down at me with a playful, challenging smirk. "The business is out of the way. Now... I want to see if Druski can move on the floor as well as Cami says he can. Ready for a dance?"

​She reached out her hand, her long, manicured fingers inches from mine.

​But before I could move, Sasha's hand landed firmly on my thigh. She leaned forward, her eyes flashing with a mix of possessiveness and playfulness.

​"Not so fast, Evie," Sasha said, her voice dropping into a husky, authoritative tone. "I've been very patient tonight. I let Cami 'borrow' him for a dance, and I let you corner him for a business pitch. But I came to this club to be with my man, and it's about time he remembers who he's going home with."

​Sasha stood up, pulling me with her. She looked at Evelyn and Cami with a triumphant smile. "The King is back on the throne. Sorry, girls."

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