Page 73 of Paper Doll

“I want details,” I blurt, needing them to spell out what this arrangement entails before I consider agreeing to it.

Why the fuck am I considering agreeing to it?

Raf hesitates for a fraction of a second, then moves closer, leaning over me. “Submission. Compliance. Every fucking whim we have, Ava,” he growls, the words hitting me like a slap. “Dolls don’t push back, they don’t get a fuckingopinion.”

“Then I’m clearly not cut out to be a Doll,” I hiss.

Raf shoves back with an annoyed grunt, hands balling into fists at his sides as he whips around and paces across the room angrily.

“Do you really think you have a choice here?” Wes asks, annoyance bleeding into his tone as he watches his friend on verge of a temper tantrum.

The inevitability of their proposal hangs in the air between us, suffocating my lungs. They think they’ve already won. They might, but not yet– not while I still have a sliver of fight left in me.

“Tell me exactly what I’d have to do,” I say again, my voice like a drawn bowstring, tight and ready to snap. I need them to say it; to reveal the full horror of what they want to subject me to.

Raf’s eyes shift as he leans against the wall, his agitation hardening into a business-like precision. “Everything we ask,” he says bluntly. “Whenever we ask it.”

My heart pounds in my chest, a wild thing caged. They’re being deliberately vague, because this isn’t a proposal– it’s a sentence. I want to scream, to fight, to run away and never look back. Instead, I grit my teeth and glare at them, refusing to back down. “And if I don’t?”

Ford makes a scoffing sound in his throat. “Then you won’t be protected.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I breathe, the walls pressing in around me. “What if you ask me to do something and I say no?”

Raf’s posture relaxes, a predator sure of its prey. “You won’t,” he murmurs.

I avert my eyes, drawing a measured breath and trying to ignore the little part of me that’s been caught out. The thing that lights up when he praises me, basks in being called his ‘good girl’.

“So that’s it,” I say with a resigned sigh. “I move in, I do whatever you ask, and nobody else can touch me.”

“Yes,” Raf replies bluntly. That single word seals it, a promise and a threat.

The room suddenly feels as if it’s spinning around me while I’m stuck in the center, holding on for dear life. But these men have no idea how hard I’m willing to fight when backed into a corner, and if they think I’m not going to get anything out of this, they’re dead wrong.

“I have rights, you know,” I say, my anger like a live wire twisting and sparking inside me.

The three of them exchange looks, a shared understanding that makes my blood boil.

Raf’s lips curl in a humorless smile. “Not if you want to survive here.”

“It’s a pretty sweet deal if you’re smart enough to take it,” Wes adds.

Ford flicks an imaginary speck of lint off his shirt. “Think about the perks,” he says. “A life of luxury in exchange for a little obedience.”

I cock a brow. “And if I don’t agree?”

“You already have,” Ford says, his grin a brand, searing the truth into me.

“No,” I say, my voice louder now. “I haven’t. I have terms.”

Wes folds his arms tighter over his chest, rolling his eyes. “Fine, let’s hear ‘em.”

The other two snap their heads in his direction, which tells me he’s clearly going off book here– and I’d be an idiot not to take advantage of the opening.

“I want to keep hanging out with Bryce,” I say, leveling Wes with an unyielding stare. “If I’m going to do this, then I need to be allowed to have at least one friend.”

“Done,” Raf snaps, pushing off from the wall.

“And I want to keep my virginity,” I quickly tack on.