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Sexting.

Any online sexual websites.

Coming without permission.

I must not date or talk to anyone not approved.

I must stay away from any love or potential love interests.

I must engage in sexual activities at any time or place with anyone Cooper Amir Jacobi and Colter Emirhan Jacobi require.

I must submit to regularly scheduled health examinations and use approved forms of birth control.”

Eva looks down at the paper as if it will answer the unknowns for her before staring at Cooper and me. “This can’t be life, right? Like this is an early April Fool’s joke?”

Cooper studies her before he retorts, “All control will be in our hands, Evie, and in exchange, you’ll never have to deal with the hurt and guilt eating you alive, one slice of your skin by blade or rough sex with yourself at a time.”

There’s a brief silence, and then I chime in, “Both times you’ve spiraled out of control—haven’t we easily given you exactly what you needed to pull yourself out of the pain weighing you down?”

“But… but… but?—”

Pushing off the wall, I cut her off, “No buts. Reality is staring you in the face, and it’s screaming you need these, or you may be one cut away from death. You can’t end up like Farrah, Evie Rose. We’ve already lost one flower—we can’t afford to lose another.”

The look of panic on her grief-stricken face indicates that the sledgehammer I just took to her perfectly sealed wall has caused the foundation to crack. It’s then that I know I have her.

She doesn’t bother to read another word, which is a pity for her because there’s a lot more in this contract she should know about, but I won’t mention that. This isn’t an even power exchange—nor is it a BDSM contract. This is purely ownership for revenge. She’s fucked in so many beautiful ways, and I, for one, can’t wait to see the look of shock on her face when the floor drops from under her.