The red spotlight burned hot on my bare skin as I stood in the center of the stage. My wrists were cuffed behind my back with soft leather restraints, forcing my chest forward and my breasts to lift under the glare. Every inch of me was oiled until I gleamed like a prize. My legs trembled slightly in the six-inch heels they had locked around my ankles. The only thing I wore besides the restraints was the thin black leather collar around my throat, its discreet silver ring hiding the tiny recorder sewn into the lining.
This was for the story. I repeated it like a prayer in my head. Eden Vale, investigative journalist, was not really here. Eve, the willing submissive, was the one naked in front of a room full of masked billionaires. I had spent six months preparing for this night, forging c
