Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The cursor was still there, dark red, pulsating like a heart beating too fast.

I knew the four of them were watching me.

Mark, Luke, David, Thomas.

My “support men”.

They knew I had entered.

They knew I hadn't signed off yet.

And they knew it wasn't pure anger that kept me pinned to the leather chair on my private terrace at 2:47 am.

I clicked anyway.

Watch live

The screen went black for a second, then a new interface lit up, even more refined, even more dangerous.

ECHO LIVE – Reserved Ticket Office

CEO Access – Real-time viewing allowed

An elegant grid of upcoming events, with high resolution photos of the fighters, names, departments, betting odds and... prices.

Next meeting – 9pm tomorrow

Elena Ferrari (Marketing Director, 34 years old) vs. Chiara Morelli (Junior Account, 26 years old)

Rules: naked, oil, 30 minutes or until full yield

Prize: 45 days of freehold ownership (including business travel, home, private life)

Standard ticket price: €4,800

Premium ticket price (common room viewing): €9,500

VIP Privacy Cubicle – €28,000

(private cubicle with one-way glass, dedicated audio, champagne service and possibility of… controlled interaction)

Below, three other dates of the week:

Wednesday: My VP Operations vs. an intern on the third floor – VIP ticket €31,000

Thursday: double relay match – four senior managers against four juniors – prices from €18,000 to €65,000 for the “Black” cubicles (totally darkened, with direct call button to the fighters)

I clicked on one of the VIP cubicles to see the details.

360° photo: a 12 square meter room, matte black walls, velvet armchair, small bar, 85 inch 8K monitor.

The one-way glass looked directly onto the underground arena.

From inside you could see everything.

From the outside... no one could know who was there.

At the bottom, a discreet writing:

The 4 Organizers have been informed of your curiosity, Alessandra.

Do you want us to reserve Cubicle 01 (the best, front view on the carpet) for tomorrow evening?

Automatic payment from your personal “Special Projects” fund – already authorized.

My heart exploded in my chest.

Four thousand eight hundred euros to watch two of my naked women humiliate each other until they become slaves for a month and a half.

Twenty-eight thousand to do it in private, with a glass of Dom Pérignon in hand, while I decided whether to press the button to let her into my cubicle after the fight.

And the four of them… they were waiting for my answer like sharks smelling blood.

I closed my eyes for a second.

I breathed.

Then I reopened.

The “Book Cubicle 01 – Tomorrow 8.45pm” button glowed blood red.

My fingers trembled on the keyboard.

(End Chapter 3)