The tension between my past and my present was starting to collide. I walked across the hall and pounded on Sasha's door.

​"Sasha! Open up!"

​The door swung inward almost immediately. She was wrapped in a silk morning gown that was loosely tied at the waist, hanging open just enough to tease the golden tan she'd brought back from Miami.

​"Druski? What's the rush?" she asked, leaning against the frame.

​"I'm heading to the studio. You coming?"

​She looked hesitant, her eyes flicking back toward her unmade bed. "I just got back, Druski. I was thinking of catching up on sleep."

​"Don't you want to see the talent you helped me recruit?" I challenged. "The girls are already on-site."

​Her eyes lit up instantly. The fatigue vanished, replaced by a sharp, business-like focus. "Oh, right. Since you brought it up... you owe me. We agreed on a cut."

​"Fifteen percent for every girl you bring in. I haven't forgotten," I said, offering a smirk. "So, you coming or what?"

​"Give me five minutes."

​She was true to her word. Five minutes later, she stepped out wearing a dress so short and tight it made my pulse skip a beat. It was a loud, confident "Miami" look that screamed for attention.

​"So," she said as we walked toward the elevator. "Where's your little houseguest?"

​"By guest, you mean Chloe?" I asked.

​The name hit her like a physical slap. She stopped dead in her tracks, her face twisting into a mask of disbelief. "Did you just say Chloe?"

​"Yeah," I said, keeping my tone casual as the elevator doors slid open.

​"Chloe? As in the same bitch who had you curled in a ball crying when she dumped you?" Sasha hissed, stepping into the lift with me. "The one who treated you like trash?"

​"It's different now, Sasha."

​"Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you being such a simp?" she snapped, her voice echoing in the small space.

​"I don't follow you," I lied.

​"Open your eyes!" Sasha stepped into my personal space, her finger poking my chest. "This bitch is only back because you've changed. You've got that 'glow' now. You're becoming a name in the industry. She's a vulture, Druski. She smelled the success and came back to feast."

​I knew I was glowing up, but the money argument didn't hold water yet. I wasn't driving Ferraris or living in a penthouse. "I'm not exactly rolling in it yet, Sasha. I think she actually likes the new me."

​Sasha let out a sharp, mocking laugh that grated on my nerves. "Take it from a woman who gets paid to read men. She's going to break your heart again the second things get difficult. She's a ghost from your pathetic past, and you're letting her haunt your future."

​Or maybe I'm the one who's going to do the breaking this time, I thought darkly, but I didn't say it out loud. I just chuckled and shrugged. "I'll take my chances."

​We walked out of the building and found Two-bit waiting at the curb. He'd traded the beat-up Mustang for a matte-black Ford Raptor. The truck looked like a monster parked among the city cars.

​Two-bit leaned out the window and let out a long, appreciative whistle the moment he saw Sasha.

​"Well, look at this! My favorite star has returned from the tropics," he grinned, his eyes roaming over her short dress.

​"Hi, Two-bit," Sasha said, her mood shifting back to a playful pout as she climbed into the back seat, leaving the passenger side for me.

​The Raptor roared to life, the powerful engine vibrating through the seats. "To the studio, then?" Two-bit asked, checking his mirrors. "The girls are already waiting, and they're looking real thirsty to get started."

The studio was unrecognizable. The last time I was here, it felt like a gritty, up-and-coming operation. Now, it was a factory of high-end production. The air smelled of expensive cologne, fresh paint, and the ozone of high-powered lighting. There were camera crews moving equipment with military precision and a lineup of girls that looked like they'd been plucked straight from a premium agency.

​I'd skipped one day, and Holmes had turned the place into a goddamn empire.

​Sasha's jaw practically hit the floor. She ran a hand over a velvet-upholstered chaise lounge, her eyes darting between the sleek new monitors and the bustling staff.

​"Wow, Druski," she whispered, her voice tinged with a new level of respect. "This is you? How did you manage to pull all this together in a few day?"

​I leaned in close, the scent of her Miami perfume catching in my nose. "Big Mom," I whispered. I pressed a finger to my lips, giving her a look that made it clear the subject was closed.

​Before she could press me, Mr. Holmes materialized from a side office as if he'd been summoned by the mention of money. He looked like a man who had just won the lottery and spent half of it on a silk suit.

​"Mr. Hart!" he boomed, his arms spread wide as if he wanted to embrace the entire building.

​"Mr. Holmes," I replied, my voice dry. The contrast between his frantic energy and my calm was palpable.

​"It's wonderful to see you! And looking so... robust," he said, his eyes twinkling. He didn't even wait for my reply before his gaze landed on Sasha. His expression shifted from businessman to starstruck fanboy in a heartbeat. "Is this... is this the legendary Ms. Sasha?"

​Sasha gave him a polished, practiced smile. "The one and only."

​"Oh, Ms. Sasha! I'm your biggest fan! Truly, your work in The Condo Sessions was... visionary!" He grabbed her hand, shaking it with a bit too much enthusiasm.

​"Thanks, Mr...?" Sasha trailed off, playing the part of the busy star who couldn't be bothered with names.

​"Holmes! But please, call me Director Holmes," he laughed, a loud, barking sound that echoed through the rafters. "Are you here to shoot today? Please tell me you're here to grace our new sets!"

​"Actually, she's just here for the tour," I interjected, cutting through the fluff.

​"A tour! Of course! A house tour for the queen!" Holmes bowed slightly. "Allow me to be your personal guide? I insist."

​Sasha glanced at me, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I don't mind at all."

​"Mr. Hart? You'll join us?" Holmes asked, already vibrating with the need to show off his new toys.

​"Lead the way," I said, curious myself to see exactly how much of Big Mom's money he'd burnt through.

​"Perfect, perfect! You will love what I've done with the place," Holmes chirped, ushering us toward the back. "And the new recruits, Mr. Hart! I tell you, they are something special. I've hand-picked them just for your... unique style."

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