In for the kill shot

"Let ask Kendra to buy her dress, and lay the ground work for that night." You said.

Ava stares at you, her reflection in your closet mirrors looking ghost-like. The idea is so far beyond the pale, a line she never imagined crossing. Yet, here you are, not just drawing the line but erasing it, redrawing it in a place that is both terrifying and exhilarating. The good wife in her is screaming, but the wild girl, the one you just summoned from the grave, is leaning in, fascinated.

"The ground work?" she echoes, her voice barely a whisper.

"Yes," you say, your decision made, your confidence hardening into steel. You release her and take a step back, giving her space but holding her with your gaze. "You. You'll take her shopping. You and Kyler. Make it a girls' day. You're the experienced older woman taking the younger one under her wing for her first big formal event. You'll bond with her. You'll get to know her. You'll see the desire in her eyes when you're not looking."

You watch the thoughts march across her face. Shock. Denial. And then, slowly, the dawning, awful, intoxicating logic of it. This was better. Colder. More strategic. It wasn't a wild, drunken mistake. It was a plan. And the planning made it feel less like a betrayal and more like a coup.

"I..." Ava starts, but the words fail her. She's looking past you now, at the sensible blouses and worn-out jeans in the closet. She's looking at a uniform she's been wearing for decades.

You give her a nudge, a gentle, decisive push off the cliff. "I'll call Kendra. Tell her you want to treat her. That we insist. That it's our pleasure to help her dress for the occasion. How could she refuse?" You pick up your phone from the dresser, your thumb already scrolling through the contacts to Kendra's number which Jason gave you just incase. You look at Ava, one last chance for her to say no.

But she doesn't. Her posture changes. A subtle straightening of her spine. A slow, deep breath, as if preparing to dive into deep water. She gives a single, sharp nod. It's the smallest of movements, but it feels like a vow.

You smile, a dark, triumphant curve of your lips. You press the call button. It rings twice before her bright, youthful voice answers.

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