Gabriel
was halfway through his croissant when Jacob materialized beside the breakfast table, bearing a cream-colored envelope on a silver tray. The elegant, old-fashioned card could only be one thing. He rolled his eyes, reaching for it with exaggerated reluctance.
“The LaMontagne Foundation’s annual fundraiser tickets have arrived, monsieur,” Jacob announced as if the ornate envelope wasn’t announcement enough.
Had it been a month already?
“Wonderful,” muttered, slicing it open. Three tickets, as expected. He glanced around the table—Ellis carefully cutting his fruit into pieces, Jean drowning his pancakes in syrup while Lucas watched with fond exasperation, and Alain nursing his coffee like it held the secrets of the universe.
“Well, Lucas? Ready for another thrilling evening of Porte du Coeur’s finest patting themselves on the back at Pavillon Rivière?”
Lucas dabbed his napkin to his lips, the picture of careful consideration. “Actually, I thought I might stay in tonight. Keep Jean company.”
Jean’s head snapped up. “I don’t need a babysitter!”
“Of course not,” Lucas agreed smoothly, a teasing smile playing at his lips. “But you are far more entertaining than a stuffy fundraising ball.”
didn’t bother hiding his smirk at the exchange. Lucas hadn’t been subtle about claiming Jean, and was quite certain their evenings involved far more than watching movies.
“Alain?” turned to his security chief. “I assume you’ll be—”
“May I be excused from attending?” Alain interrupted, not even bothering with an excuse.
“You never want to attend these events.” shook his head, sipping orange juice.
Alain shrugged, eyes fixed on his coffee. “I just don’t like them.”
“Too bad,” said cheerfully. “Shared misery and all that.”
Alain’s only response was to take another long drink of coffee, but caught the slight downturn of his mouth. Good. If had to endure another LaMontagne Foundation event, he wasn’t suffering alone.
turned to Ellis, who was still focused on his methodical fruit-cutting. “Would you like to accompany me tonight?”
Before Ellis could respond, Jean’s fork clattered against his plate. “Is that—is that a good idea?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” felt his jaw tighten slightly. “Ellis is mine. He belongs at my side.” He softened his voice as he turned back to Ellis. “If you’d like to attend, of course.”
Ellis set down his knife. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I’d like that.”
“They’re going to eat him alive,” Jean snapped. “All you’ll succeed in doing is making a spectacle of him. Is that fair? To parade him in front of all those sharks?”
Lucas quietly slid Jean’s fork back into his hand. “That’s enough.” The warning earned him a glare from Jean, but he fell silent.
dismissed Jean’s concerns with a slight wave of his hand. He was La Sauvegarde’s CEO, heir apparent of the Rohan Estate. Ellis was his. No one would dare say a word.
“I’ve never been to the yacht club before,” Ellis said, clearly trying to dispel the tension. “I’d like to see the boats. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to sail on the ocean. Swimming in a pool is the closest I’ve ever gotten.”
looked up, surprised. “You like boats?”
“Sailboats,” Ellis clarified. “Or... the idea of them, at least. I’ve never actually been on one. But the thought of sailing, seeing the world that way...” He shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. “It seems freeing.”
“I’ll buy you a hundred boats,” declared. “One in every port.”
Ellis laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m never going to see the ocean, much less set foot on a boat,” Ellis said, shaking his head.
frowned but held his tongue. His petit oiseau clearly didn’t believe would buy him a hundred boats.
He was wrong.
made a mental note to have Nika look into yacht brokers. Perhaps start with something modest in Miami. Or no—the Mediterranean. Ellis would look beautiful against the backdrop of the French Riviera. The Rohan family estate on the C?te d’Azur hadn’t been used since his mother passed. The thought of Ellis there, golden in the Mediterranean sun, salt spray on his skin...
“More coffee, monsieur?” Jacob’s quiet inquiry pulled from his planning. He waved the butler away, already composing a mental email to Nika. It was time to have the estate opened up again.
Several hours later, leaned against his bedroom door frame, watching Ellis adjust his tie for the third time. The bespoke suit fit him perfectly, and the burgundy waistcoat gave a subtle nod to the Rohan Family colors. had foregone a tie with his black suit, but Ellis seemed more comfortable with the extra armor of proper formal wear.
Ellis caught his reflection in the mirror and stilled. “What?”
crossed the room, coming up behind him to press a kiss just below his ear. “You look handsome.” He felt Ellis relax slightly against him, their eyes meeting in the mirror. For a moment, they both just stood there, taking in their reflection, ’s hand resting possessively on Ellis’ hip.
Ellis turned in his arms, reaching up to smooth an imaginary wrinkle from ’s lapel. His fingers lingered there before he lifted his face, pressing a soft kiss to ’s lips. indulged in its sweetness, these careful kisses that Ellis so rarely initiated. Not their usual heated exchanges, but something new. Something that felt almost domestic.
“Thank you,” Ellis murmured against his lips, “for the suit. For everything.”
tightened his arms around Ellis’ waist, wanting to freeze this moment. But they had a party to attend, and the world was waiting.
Downstairs, they found Alain waiting by the front door, impeccable in his black suit, without a waistcoat or tie. The drive to Pavillon Rivière was quiet, Ellis watching the city lights reflect off the river as they approached the Second Cat.
Pavillon Rivière rose before them, palatial in its limestone grandeur, its facade glowing warmly in the evening light. had grown up attending events here but saw it anew through Ellis’ wide eyes. The main building stretched along the artificially expanded Lake Saint Louis, its reflection dancing on the water.
The Mercedes glided to a stop at the entrance, where a valet, in crisp navy blue livery, stepped forward to open their doors. Alain handed over the keys with a warning look that made the young man stand straighter.
“It’s enormous,” Ellis breathed, taking in the sprawling resort complex.
“Three ballrooms, two restaurants, over a hundred rooms,” listed off, his hand settling protectively at Ellis’ lower back as they climbed the grand steps. “There’s a spa, fitness center, indoor watermark, even a movie theater. The marina has thirty full-service slips for larger vessels and twice that many smaller slips with partial or self-service options.”
“Where Peruque Creek once was, they carved out the Peruque Canal,” Alain commented dryly. “So the members could take their ridiculous boats straight to the Mississippi.”
“All this in the middle of Missouri?” Ellis shook his head.
“What the rich want, they get,” explained. “And they wanted a yacht club thousands of miles from the ocean. So they made sure it was worth the investment.”
Before they reached the entrance, caught Alain’s arm. “Keep an eye on him if I get pulled away?”
Alain nodded, understanding exactly what was asking. “Of course.”
They entered the marble-floored lobby, Ellis’ head tilted back as he took in the soaring ceilings and gilt details. , however, noticed the stares—not the usual appreciative glances he was accustomed to, but something more calculating. More curious. Jean’s words from breakfast echoed in his mind, and he pulled Ellis closer.
The massive crystal chandeliers threw rainbow patterns across Ellis’ face as they entered the main ballroom. found himself watching Ellis rather than their surroundings—the way his eyes widened at each discovery, the slight parting of his lips as he absorbed the contrived opulence.
Behind them, Alain shifted position, automatically moving to block the most direct line of sight from the gathering crowd. The evening hadn’t truly begun, and already felt the weight of everyone’s attention. But Ellis was his, and he wouldn’t let anyone make him doubt that.
As they circulated the room, Alain moved between them and the buffet table, bringing plates of delicacies and fresh champagne glasses—the latter mostly for himself, noticed. His security chief was drinking more than usual, eyes constantly scanning the room with unusual tension.
“!” Patricia Taylor’s voice carried across the marble floor. “How wonderful to see you!”
“Mrs. Taylor,” smiled with practiced ease. “How are you? I don’t see Earl this evening.”
“Oh, you know Earl,” she sighed, adjusting her diamond tennis bracelet. “Always at one of the dealerships. He did mention how pleased he was with your latest Mercedes purchase. The AMG, wasn’t it?”
“Sedan style, and it’s serving me well. And how’s Michael? I haven’t spoken to him in a while.”
“In London now, did you know? Working with that tech startup of his. Earl’s being far too permissive with the funding, if you ask me, but...” Her lip curled slightly. “I suppose I don’t have a say in how he chooses to risk the Taylor reputation. Though I suppose that’s better than some of the stories I hear about dear Henri. That latest scandal with the Dubrule girl. élise, wasn’t it? The older one.”
“Ancient history,” cut in smoothly.
“Yes, well, tell that to the society pages.” Patricia let out a forced laugh. “One must be so careful with the Rohan image these days.” Her gaze slid to Ellis, sharp with curiosity. “And who might this be?”
“,” Nikolai Rykov greeted smoothly, effectively shouldering Patricia aside. Nika’s timely intervention prevented from having to answer. “Good to see you and your boyfriend again.”
He didn’t miss the predatory grin Nika flashed toward Alain, or the way Alain determinedly looked anywhere else, snatching another champagne flute from a passing tray.
Patricia gave an indignant harrumph at being dismissed but walked away without further inquiry, back to her society ladies, no doubt to spread the gossip she had learned.
The moment was broken by a server offering hors d’oeuvres. Ellis’ sudden flush and wide eyes told everything before the server even opened his mouth.
“Moving up in the world, eh, Ellis? I was sad to hear about the Heart Court shutdown.” The server snickered, glancing between Ellis and ’s possessive grip on his hip.
Nika’s expression turned dangerous. “Should you wish to maintain your employment here, that will be your last word of the evening.” The server paled and scurried away.
“Thank you,” Ellis murmured, tense against ’s side.
“Not a problem,” Nika shrugged before turning to . “Mind if I borrow Alain for a moment?”
“I mind,” Alain said immediately, draining his champagne.
Nika ignored the protest, already steering Alain away. “Wasn’t actually asking. Come along.”
“I need to stay with—” Alain’s protests faded as Nika practically dragged him across the room.
stared after them, baffled by the exchange. When had Nika and Alain become close?
The whispers had grown more noticeable, and he could feel Ellis’ discomfort mounting. “Shall we check out the silent auction in the second ballroom?”
The second ballroom had been transformed into a showcase of wealth and excess. Display cases lined the perimeter, their lights catching the facets of rare gems and designer pieces—more fine jewelry than most boutiques carried. Antique furniture dotted the floor alongside modern art installations, while luxury vehicles gleamed under perfectly positioned spotlights. Local artists’ works hung on temporary walls, their current bids suggesting they weren’t struggling painters from the Fourth Cat.
Interactive screens were mounted throughout the space, displaying high-resolution images and detailed specifications of items too large to fit within the ballroom or too abstract. Potential bidders could swipe through multiple angles of luxury yachts, examine architectural plans for vacation properties, and scroll through box seats at local venues. Modern Rolls Royces and Mercedes shared physical space in the ballroom, while million-dollar classics like the 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO and 1937 Bugatti Type 57SC Atlantic rotated in perfect digital detail on nearby screens.
It was on one of these screens that found the Fountaine Pajot Tanna 47 catamaran listing—the company owner hoping to make inroads into the local market where the brand hadn’t yet gained traction. Currently docked at slip #8 in the marina, the vessel was a beauty, easily worth over a million. The interactive display allowed him to examine every detail, from the spacious suites to the latest navigation systems.
While Ellis was distracted by a display of vintage wines, quickly scanned the QR code and entered a bid high enough to discourage competition. He opted for outbid notifications, though he knew they wouldn’t be necessary.
“I’ve never been to a soccer game,” Ellis mused, studying the box seat offering for PDC Soccer Club’s upcoming season.
immediately scanned the code, making his bid.
“Must be nice,” Ellis said, shaking his head, smiling fondly, “having all that money to throw around.”
“It isn’t his money to throw around.” Maximilien’s cold voice cut through their moment. “It’s the family’s.”
“My trust fund from grandfather. My salary as CEO. Both are mine to spend as I choose,” said coolly.
Maximilien grunted. “Everything handed to you on a silver platter.”
“Just as it was handed to you,” countered. “Or have you forgotten it was your great-great-grandfather who came here in the 1800s? Third son of French nobility who started La Sauvegarde with old-world money. You’ve done little, but maintain what generations before you built.”
“How dare you—” Maximilien’s face flushed with anger.
“Perhaps we could go outside?” Ellis suggested quietly, touching ’s arm. “I’d love to see the boats.”
Maximilien’s gaze snapped to Ellis, recognition dawning. He let out a harsh laugh. “Ah, now I remember. Really, ? Buying a whore from that shuttered brothel to escort you to society events?”
went rigid, his mind racing at his father’s knowledge of Heart Court. “Ellis is not a whore. He’s my boyfriend, my partner. And he isn’t going anywhere.” Beside him, Ellis flushed from ear tip to shirt collar.
Maximilien studied Ellis with new interest, something calculating in his expression. “We’ll see,” he said before turning away.
was still seething when Alain approached, his collar slightly askew and his usual pristine appearance somewhat disheveled.
“Where the hell have you been?” snapped.
“That’s none of your business,” Alain replied calmly. “I’m your friend, not your slave.”
deflated immediately. “You’re right. I apologize.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache forming.
“Why don’t we head back to the ballroom? Speeches should be starting soon.” Alain suggested.
They returned to the main ballroom, finding their places among the crowd as Alain dutifully retrieved fresh champagne for everyone. The speeches were as predictable as they were endless—the same words about charitable giving and community responsibility that echoed through every society event in Porte du Coeur. caught Ellis trying to stifle a yawn behind his champagne glass while Alain didn’t even bother hiding his as he handed them their drinks. They joined the mechanical applause between each speaker, a synchronized performance of social obligation that had mastered since childhood.
After the final speaker, their host for the evening, Pierre LaMontagne, climbed the stairs to the stage and announced the close of the silent auction. Electronic notifications chimed throughout the ballroom like an expensive symphony, accompanied by delighted gasps and murmurs. ’s watch buzzed twice in quick succession.
“Did you win the seats?” Ellis asked, head tilted toward .
smiled. “And something much better.” He placed his hand at the small of Ellis’ back, guiding him toward the ballroom’s garden doors. Alain followed, still nursing what had to be his tenth glass of champagne.
The night air was cool as they walked through the manicured garden and down to the marina pier, their shoes clicking against the wooden planks.
“Did you buy Ellis a boat?” Alain asked, amusement coloring his words.
“You didn’t!” Ellis spun to face .
“I did.” stopped them at slip number 8, where the Tanna 47 catamaran bobbed gently in the dark water, its sleek lines illuminated by the marina’s lights.
“Can we go on it?” Ellis asked hopefully, taking a step toward the vessel.
“Not yet. I haven’t received the keys yet, but soon.” watched Ellis’ profile in the marina lights, memorizing the way wonder transformed his features.
“Why would you...” Ellis’ voice caught. “Why would you do something like this?”
“Because I love you.” The words came easily, naturally, as if had been saying them his whole life.
Ellis turned to him, tears catching the light. pulled him close, feeling the tremors running through Ellis’ body as he pressed his face into ’s chest. “Mon petit oiseau,” he murmured, lips against Ellis’ temple. “Mon coeur, mon trésor.” Each endearment punctuated with a soft kiss, tasting the salt of Ellis’ tears.
“Perhaps we should head home,” Alain suggested quietly from behind them, his voice gentle. “It’s been quite an evening.”
nodded, pressing one final kiss to Ellis’ hair. “We’ll come back as soon as the paperwork is done. I promise.” He waited for Ellis to nod before turning to Alain. “I’m driving.”
“What?”
pointed to the empty champagne glass in Alain’s hand. “You can ride in the back. Or sleep in it.”
Alain grumbled but didn’t argue.
They left the glittering lights of Pavillon Rivière behind, Ellis’ hand warm in ’s as they walked to the car. Above them, stars dotted the sky, competing with the city’s glow, while behind them, the massive yacht club cast long shadows across the water where Ellis’ new boat waited.