Ellis
sat on the leather couch beside Brenda’s desk, his phone’s screen still glowing with the notification. $2000 transferred from Maximilien Rohan. The leather stuck uncomfortably to his thighs where sweat had dried beneath his hastily donned suit pants. His shirt buttons were misaligned, the expensive fabric catching against places still sticky with lube and dried sweat. The collar pressed against a fresh mark on his neck—Gabriel’s mark.
Through the glass walls of the reception area, he could see other La Sauvegarde employees moving about their day. A woman glanced his way, then quickly averted her eyes when she noticed his disheveled state. fought the urge to shrink into himself, to make himself smaller. The silk lining of his borrowed suit jacket felt suffocating.
He’d been getting paid for sex since before he could legally drink. Had taken money from men who looked at him like he was nothing more than a convenient hole. But somehow, this hit differently. Made him feel dirty in a way that a decade of sex work never had. His skin crawled where Maximilien’s dismissive gaze had touched him, the casual cruelty of the transaction making his stomach turn.
The rhythmic tapping from Brenda’s desk faltered, then stopped. looked up to find her watching him, her face tight with concern. She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a small packet of facial wipes, sliding them across her desk toward him.
gradually became aware that the rhythmic tapping from Brenda’s desk had stopped. He looked up to find her watching him with a pitying expression.
“Here.” She produced a steel water bottle from somewhere in her desk. “You look like you could use it.”
took it with trembling fingers.
“I’m sorry,” Brenda continued, her voice dropping so the passing employees couldn’t hear. “Maximilien’s a right bastard. Always has been.”
The sudden sound of raised voices behind the heavy office door made flinch. Lucas seemed to materialize in the reception area, striding quickly to ’ side with an urgency that spoke of more than mere coincidence.
Lucas dropped to one knee beside the couch, positioning himself between and the curious glances from the hallway.
“Are you okay?”Lucas asked, his voice pitched low and steady.
couldn’t find his voice. He just held up his phone, showing the transfer notification. Lucas’ face darkened for a moment before he did something completely unexpected—he pulled into a tight hug.
The embrace shocked into stillness. Besides Jean and Gabriel, no one had ever hugged him like this. Purely for comfort, with no expectation of anything more. Lucas’ embrace was warm and protective.
“Please don’t think this is how Gabriel sees you,” Lucas murmured. “Maximilien... he’s from an older world.”
Before could process what that meant, the office door slammed open. Maximilien Rohan stormed out, his icy gaze falling on with such contempt that shrank further into Lucas’ arms, trying to make himself smaller. Lucas shifted, shielding from the man’s cruel stare.
“One month!” Maximilien shouted over his shoulder. “I expect you at the LaMontagne fundraiser!” His footsteps echoed down the hallway as he disappeared toward the elevator.
Gabriel emerged from his office, looking both angry and exhausted. “He thought today was the board meeting, which he attended last week. No, crashed.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Just a reminder of why I am CEO of La Sauvegarde now, not him.”
His expression softened when he saw Lucas holding . With a quiet sigh, he turned to Lucas. “Call Alain? Have him bring home?”
Lucas nodded, releasing to make the call. Gabriel took his place on the couch, drawing into his arms and pressing a kiss to his temple.
“I’m sorry about my father,” he murmured. “The money... you can keep it, donate it, send it back. Whatever you want to do with it.”
“I don’t know,” whispered. “I’ll ask Jean when I get home.”
Gabriel’s smile was gentle at ’ unconscious use of the word. “Yes. Lafayette Square is your home.”
They sat in comfortable silence until Lucas returned. Gabriel kissed goodbye before returning to his office, and Lucas escorted down the private elevator where Alain waited with the Mercedes.
stared out the window but wasn’t really seeing the city blur past.
Gabriel’s hands. So gentle.
Just another whore, a convenient hole to fuck
His kisses, like mattered.
Two thousand dollars in exchange
Lucas hugging him. No expectations.
But Maximilien saw the truth
Home. He called it home.
What was home to someone like him?
Gabriel claiming him, but…
He realized he was crying only when a tear splashed onto his hand.
“Maximilien was out of line today,” Alain’s quiet voice said, cutting through ’ spiral of thoughts.
“Was he?” asked, voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes, . He was.” Alain’s voice was firm, confident. “What you witnessed... it’s complicated. The board made Gabriel CEO because his father’s mind was slipping. His memory, his impulse control...” Alain sighed. “He was leading La Sauvegarde down a losing path.”
sniffled, trying to process this new information as rain began to patter against the car windows, matching his mood.
“The problem is,” Alain continued, navigating smoothly through traffic, “many board members are old friends with Maximilien. They still trust his word over Gabriel’s, despite everything. It makes Gabriel’s position delicate.”
The car fell quiet again, but it was a different kind of silence. watched raindrops race down the window, thinking about Gabriel caught between being a good son and a good CEO. About how maybe he wasn’t the only one struggling with who he was supposed to be.
The Lafayette Square manor appeared ahead, and could see Jean’s blonde head bobbing impatiently at the front door, clearly waiting for him. Something in his chest loosened at the sight.
Alain pulled into the private drive, placing the car in park before fully turning to face . “I have never seen Gabriel care for someone the way he cares for you. Please, don’t let Maximilien’s words or actions get to you. Shower. Rest. Watch the terrible movies Jean seems to enjoy.”
swallowed hard, meeting Alain’s gaze. “Thank you,” he managed, the words feeling inadequate for the quiet understanding Alain had shown. The driver gave him a small nod, something protective in his eyes that tightened ’ chest.
Before he could overthink it, slipped out of the Mercedes into a drizzle. Jean practically flew down the front steps, wrapping him in a fierce hug that smelled of expensive cologne—Lucas’ influence, no doubt.
At the top of the stairs, a mountain of a man watched Jean’s enthusiastic greeting with careful attention, his dark eyes scanning the street even as he tracked Jean’s movements. His olive-skinned face remained impassive, but there was something reassuring about the quiet efficiency of his presence. This must be Peter, the shadow Lucas had discussed assigning to Jean during business hours. He must have started today.
“All society men are awful,” Jean declared against ’ shoulder, the words muffled but vehement. “Absolute monsters, every single one.”
stiffened, his stomach dropping. The household already knew what had happened in Gabriel’s office. Humiliation crashed over him in a hot wave, making him want to crawl out of his skin.
But why? Why did this matter so much? He’d been thrown out of cars, had men refuse to pay, had been called every degrading name imaginable. He’d serviced men in alleys and back rooms who treated him like garbage, and he’d walked away without a second thought. But Maximilien’s dismissal had cut deep. The casual transfer of money. That contemptuous glance that reduced him to exactly what he was. Why did this make him want to disappear?
And now everyone knew. The thought made his chest tight with panic. They all knew exactly what had happened, how Maximilien had put him in his place. Had reminded everyone that no matter what Gabriel said, no matter how they treated him, at his core, he was still just a whore who could be bought and dismissed.
“Allons-y,” Jean tugged at his arm, pulling him toward the house. “Lucas said we could order whatever we want for dinner and watch movies until we pass out.”
“I need to shower first. And change.”
“Sure! Oh! Annabelle left your new wardrobe in Gabriel’s room. Meet me in the entertainment room when you’re done!” Jean bounded off toward the house, Peter following like a silent shadow.
made his way upstairs, movements mechanical. The borrowed suit felt wrong against his skin, the fabric a constant reminder of the afternoon. He unbuttoned his shirt with trembling fingers, dropping everything down the laundry chute before stepping into the shower.
The hot water didn’t help. He went through his routine automatically—shampoo, soap, rinse. When he entered Gabriel’s walk-in closet, he stopped short. Half the space had been transformed, filled with new clothes in his size. A note in Annabelle’s elegant handwriting was pinned to the nearest hanger, explaining these were for him.
stared at the clothes, unable to process this recent development. Instead, he reached for Gabriel’s drawer, pulling out one of his soft shirts and a pair of sweatpants. Something about wearing Gabriel’s clothes settled him. It made him feel grounded in a way he couldn’t explain.
Downstairs, he found Jean sprawled across the entertainment room couch, phone in hand. Across the room, Peter sat in a chair positioned to see both Jean and the door, his dark eyes flicking between his tablet and his charge.
Jean hadn’t acknowledged Peter once since arrived—hadn’t even glanced his way. Knowing Jean, this stubborn refusal to accept his extra shadow was precisely calculated to irritate Lucas. The fact that Peter seemed utterly unbothered by the silent treatment probably annoyed Jean.
“I’m thinking sushi,” Jean announced without looking up. “That okay?”
“I’ve only had it once,” admitted, curling into the opposite corner of the couch. “On my birthday a few years back. It was good.”
Jean looked up then, his expression softening. “, I’m so sorry about what happened at Gabriel’s office.”
’ stomach clenched. “Word’s already spread?”
“Lucas told Alain, who told Annabelle and Jacob to have comfort food and tea ready... and well, you know how household gossip works.” Jean shrugged at ’ blank look. “Oh. I guess you wouldn’t. But yeah, the staff always knows everything. It’s like a law of nature or something.”
Jean turned back to his phone, scrolling through menu options. “That’s how society works, you know. Rich men using people until they get bored. Using them up and moving on.” His voice had taken on a bitter edge. “They think money makes everything okay.”
“Is Gabriel...” couldn’t finish the question.
Jean laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Of course. The Rohans are no exception. Why do you think Maximilien transferred that money so easily? It’s what they do.”
pulled out his phone, staring at the notification again. “What should I do with it?”
“Keep it,” Jean said immediately, looking surprised at the question. “Put it in your go-bag account.”
“My what?”
Jean sat up, staring at with genuine confusion. “Your go-bag account. You know, the money you keep separate in case you need to leave?”
’ blank look made Jean’s brows furrow. “Like the one my mother had when she left my father. No waiting for courts or lawyers.” He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture that screamed old money. “All the mistresses in the NQ keep one. It’s just... smart.”
Understanding dawned in Jean’s eyes, his privileged background suddenly glaring. “Oh. You wouldn’t need to hide money, would you? You just kept what you earned?”
had spent everything he earned on essential, everyday things. There was rarely any left over to save.
Jean’s fingers fidgeted with his phone, his casual tone forced. “I put everything from Heart Court in an account nobody but me knows about. Set it up as soon as I could when I hit 18. No way I was letting daddy dearest see that money if he went looking.” The bitterness in his laugh betrayed the lightness he was trying for. “Guess some habits from home stick with you.”
felt something cold settle in his chest. “You think I’ll need to leave?”
Jean’s expression softened with something like pity. “They all leave eventually. Or make us leave. Rich men get... fixated. Obsessed. But it never lasts.” He picked at a loose thread on his sleeve, voice quieter. “I watched all three of my brothers do it. Alexandre was the worst—he’d bring these girls home, swear they were ‘the one,’ then two months later there’d be someone new. Marc and Philippe weren’t much better. They all ended up gone, one way or another. Even the ones my brothers swore they loved.”
Jean’s fingers tightened on the loose thread. “That’s why you need to be smart about it. Get what you can while he wants you. Money, clothes, connections. Whatever he’ll give you. Because once the shine wears off...” He trailed off, shrugging.
“What about you?” asked softly, remembering vaguely that Jean was here because of his family’s reputation. Something about a Swedish boarding school cover story.
Jean’s entire body went rigid, his fingers stilling on the phone screen. “I mean, I hope I don’t have to go home, but...” He let out a hollow laugh. “At least I’ve got a few months. Gabriel owns my contract now, after all. And he’s trying to protect his, and my, reputation by hiding it with Confluence Assets.”
slumped deeper into the couch. It explained so much—Gabriel’s instant obsession, the intensity of his possession. Maximilien’s dismissive treatment, like was just another pretty distraction that would eventually fade.
“Oh!” Jean’s voice suddenly brightened with forced cheer. “Sushi’s ordered! Should be here in thirty minutes. And don’t worry, oh, stalker mine. I ordered some for you, too.” Peter grunted in response. could see his tablet switching to views of the outdoor cameras.
Jean grabbed the remote, pulling up some action movie with explosions, clearly eager to change the subject. Things exploded in spectacular fashion on the screen, but he couldn’t focus on any of it. was too busy wondering how long he had before Gabriel’s fixation faded—before he became just another name on the long list of discarded lovers.
He pulled out his phone and found Lottie’s number from their chance meeting on the metro. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard before he typed: “Hey, it’s . From the metro the other day. Remember me?”
The response came almost immediately: “YESSS!! I was hoping you’d text! How are you??”
Taking a deep breath, began typing out everything—from that first night at Lumière when he’d mistaken Gabriel as his client, through the growing intimacy and confusion, right up to today’s humiliation with Maximilien and conversation with Jean.
Lottie’s response took long enough for to watch three more explosion sequences on screen before his phone buzzed.
“Hate to say it, but your friend’s right. Always smart to prepare for the worst. BUT...”
frowned at the ellipsis until the next message appeared.
“I’ve never heard of ANY escort getting that kind of rescue before. And speaking of Heart Court... you know it’s gone, right? That lawyer of his, Rykov, went full scorched earth. Donovan’s in the wind.”
blinked in surprise. He hadn’t known.
“Caleb landed with us at Crown Club,” Lottie continued. “He’s doing good here. Aric’s showing him the ropes.”
Relief loosened something in ’ chest. He and Caleb hadn’t been close, but they’d been friendly. Caleb had always been kind, and knowing he’d found a place at the union brothel where Lottie and Aric worked made feel better about everything falling apart at Heart Court.
“Look,” Lottie texted, “be smart about it. But also? WANT him to want you. Cautious but optimistic, yeah?”
“Thanks, Lottie,” responded, letting the phone drop to his lap. Cautious but optimistic. He could work with that.
Later that night, after Gabriel returned home and they’d fallen into bed together, they lay tangled in the sheets, ’ skin still humming from orgasm.
“Is there anything I can do?” Gabriel murmured against his temple. “To make today up to you?”
almost said no reflexively, but stopped himself, remembering Jean and Lottie’s advice. “I... I used to swim. At the old YMCA near Heart Court. Had a scholarship membership.” He traced a pattern on Gabriel’s chest, not meeting his eyes. “I miss it.”
“Lafayette Square has an aquatics club three blocks away,” Gabriel said immediately. “Indoor and outdoor lap pools. They even have water polo. I’ll have your membership set up tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” whispered, settling deeper into Gabriel’s embrace.
As he drifted toward sleep, held onto Lottie’s words. Cautious but optimistic. Even if this was temporary, even if it would eventually end... maybe he could let himself enjoy it while it lasted.