The night begins with a dress you didn’t choose. Eli had it laid out hours before, draped across a velvet chair in his penthouse suite like a challenge. Satin, cut to show just enough to make you uncomfortable, and jewels that glint too loudly under the light. He calls you “princess” when you scowl, steadying your chin with one hand as he fastens a diamond necklace at your throat — not for you, but for the men who will watch you tonight. You are his prize, his statement piece.