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With a final click, it’s done.
I set the release for Friday at midnight, knowing an automated email will hit our subscribers’ inboxes moments later.
“Let’s see what we've got,” I whisper, refreshing the analytics page.
Within ten minutes, the numbers start rolling in.
Over a thousand early access purchases.
The screen lights up with dollar signs, each one a testament to the crave for exclusivity and allure.
Another $25,000 split between Mandy and me.
It’s insane how much money people are willing to spend, but then again, nothing shocks me anymore.
The money is good—better than good—but it’s not just about that.
It’s about the independence, the control over my own fate.
I lean back in my chair, sometimes unable to believe just how much I’ve accomplished.
Most of the club members have mobile homes scattered across the property, but I managed to get this nicer modular home with the money I make working for OneEye.
No one knows what I do except Mandy—and somehow Spark.
That thought sends a shiver down my spine.
How does he know?
Maybe Mandy let it slip, or he overheard something?
I can’t afford for anyone else to find out, especially not my father.
He would tell me I don’t need to do it, that he could provide for me.
But he doesn’t understand—it’s about more than money.
It’s about independence, control, and knowing I can stand on my own two feet.
My phone buzzes on the desk, jolting me from my thoughts.
I pick it up, half-expecting a message from Spark, but it’s just a notification from OneEye.
I dismiss it and look at the time.
I click the final button to compress the video file and lean back in my chair, stretching my arms above my head.
The memory of Spark hitting Jacob flashes through my mind again, sending a shiver down my spine.
I can’t get it out of my head—the way he moved so fast, so decisively.
He didn’t hesitate for a second before landing that punch, and damn if it wasn’t the hottest thing a man’s ever done for me.
“Get a grip, Zoe,” I mutter to myself, shaking my head as if it’ll clear the intrusive thoughts.
But it doesn’t work because all I can see is the intensity in his eyes, the raw power in his stance.
He made me feel something I haven’t felt in a long time—protected, desired.
