Chapter 10 - Pride
Pride
“He’s still not for sale,” William hissed.
Richard wrinkled his nose. “Please. I have no interest in your used-up toys.”
White-hot anger flared in William’s chest. What the hell was Richard playing at? Just yesterday he was basically begging William to sell Adathan to him, and now Adathan was apparently not good enough for him anymore?
How was this attitude supposed to benefit Richard—was he just being a petty asshole because William had refused to give him what he wanted?
No. It didn’t matter what his motives were.
Humiliating those he considered beneath him was what he did, and trying to understand his reasons would only give Richard more power.
Besides, William was done letting himself be intimidated by him.
Richard was just a sad, pathetic loser who was born into extreme wealth—a fucking parasite who’d never contributed to society.
“The fuck you want?” William spat.
“My.” Richard glanced pointedly around the high-end lobby. “Such crass vocabulary.”
William sprang to his feet, but Richard spoke before he could walk away.
“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”
William looked over his shoulder, his pulse quickening with fury. Richard hadn’t overheard shit—he’d deliberately listened in on William’s conversation.
Richard leaned forward, a wicked smile growing across his punchable face. “For all your self-righteous preaching, you were quick to fuck your Serviteur, weren’t you? Tell me, William. How does it feel to violate your virtuous principles to get your dick sucked?”
William balled his hands into trembling fists. He hadn’t asked for anything. Adathan had wanted it. Adathan wasn’t a thing. He was a person with desires and needs of his own. William had merely listened.
Richard let out a grating laugh. “Goodness, William. You should see the look on your face. You’re so easy to rattle.” He leaned back nonchalantly, grinning as he nodded toward the spot next to him. “Take a seat. Let’s have a chat.”
William willed his heart to slow down. He had to stay calm at all costs. If he laid a hand on Richard, he’d be looking at serious legal trouble. Worse, it could make Adathan’s situation even more precarious. “I have stuff to do.”
“I feel . . .” Richard trailed off, giving a dismissive wave of his hand.
William couldn’t give a shit about Richard’s feelings.
“. . . remorseful.”
It was obviously a trap. William stilled every inch of his face—he wouldn’t give Richard the satisfaction of reacting.
“If I hadn’t let you win,” Richard said, “you wouldn’t be stuck in this predicament.
I figured you could use a bit of help, you know .
. .” He brought his hands together, and only then did William notice the wad of cash he was holding.
Richard dragged a finger down the edge, making a show of unfolding the bills one by one. “. . . to cover its expenses.”
William turned to face him and crossed his arms. “I don’t need—” His voice broke as Richard flicked his wrist, sending the whole wad flying.
William stared at the dozens of hundred-dollar bills as they landed on the couch and floor—carelessly discarded like pocket change.
He froze, stuck between urging himself to take it, or turning on his heel and getting the fuck out of here.
Did it really matter that Richard just wanted to humiliate him?
With that kind of money, William could clothe Adathan properly, get some high-quality groceries, and deposit the excess into an account for him.
“William, please.”
William looked up, fury tearing through his chest at the expression on Richard’s face. The bastard was enjoying this.
Richard’s sneer widened. “Are you really going to let your pride stand in the way of Adathan’s well-being?”
William spun on his heel. Fuck Richard. Fuck his money.
Fuck everything and everyone. William would shop at the thrift store.
He’d get a second job. Heck, he’d eat instant noodles every day for the rest of his life if it meant being able to afford nutritious meals for Adathan.
Anything but give Richard what he wanted.
William stomped into the elevator and jabbed the fifteenth-floor button. He glared at Richard across the lobby, finding him checking his phone like nothing had happened, the money still sprawled across the seat and floor.
William’s shoulders slumped as soon as the doors closed. He’d done the right thing—he knew he had. Adathan wouldn’t have wanted him to take Richard’s money. Right?
William let out the scream he’d been holding in since yesterday.
He slammed a fist against the elevator wall, pushing all the stress and frustration out of his lungs.
Why was the universe doing this to him? What had he done to deserve this constant, never-ending humiliation?
Was he such a bad person that he wasn’t allowed any peace of mind ever?
The elevator ride ended far too soon.
William stepped out and walked as far as possible from his room, his hands still shaking. He had one last thing to do, and then he could finally get the fuck out of here.
He accessed the call history on his phone and tapped Eden Serviteurs’ number in the list. Someone immediately picked up the call.
“Hello, Mr. Mitchell. It’s a pleasure to talk to you.”
William grimaced. That company was creepy as fuck. “I thought about your offer.”
“Impeccable timing. Gabriel just landed.”
“I’m keeping Adathan.”
“You wish to keep the defective Serviteur?”
“Yes,” William said.
“My most sincere apologies, I must have forgotten to specify the exact nature of its defects.”
“You told me everything I need to know. I’m not changing my mind. I like him the way he is.”
It took a moment for the woman to reply.
“This is an unexpected turn of events, Mr. Mitchell. Rest assured that Eden Serviteurs values your satisfaction. However, I’m obligated to inform you that the defective Serviteur’s certificate of authenticity and warranty will be nullified as soon as this phone call ends. ”
“Fine. I don’t care.”
William heard fingers typing at incredible speed. “I’m also obligated to inform you that you will no longer be permitted to refer to it as a Serviteur.”
“Sure. Whatever.”
“Doing so will be considered brand defamation, and legal action will be taken against you.”
William gritted his teeth. They weren’t fucking around, which was no surprise.
A company that sold human beings wouldn’t want its brand to be associated with a “product” who kept his humanity intact.
What if some rich fuck in William’s nonexistent social circle found out that Serviteurs weren’t actually a different breed of bipeds who were born to serve humans like dogs?
Still, William knew he’d have to take their warning seriously. Eden Serviteurs undoubtedly had a solid—and ruthless—team of lawyers.
“I won’t,” William said. “No one will ever know he came from you.”
“I am delighted that we came to an agreement.”
As if she’d left him a choice.
“I recommend you keep this number handy, Mr. Mitchell,” she said in a condescending voice. “Were you to regret your decision in the future, please know that we will readily dispose of the defective Serviteur for you. However, a refund will no longer be possible. I’m sure you’ll understand.”
Dispose?
William’s hand balled into a trembling fist, his nails digging into his palm. The word hammered in his mind, making him see red. “You’re never getting Adathan back,” he snarled. “I’m keeping him. Forever.”
“Manipulative tendencies,” the woman mumbled, just loud enough for William to hear.
“You know what? Go fuck yourself!” William barked as every cell in his body exploded with anger. He hung up and immediately got a notification indicating he’d received an email from Eden Serviteurs with “Legal Agreement” as the subject line.
Fucking bitch.
Adathan wasn’t manipulative. He was just trying to survive in a world that was dead set on abusing and humiliating him. How dare she insinuate William had been manipulated when he was simply exercising basic human decency?
William shoved his phone back into his pocket, wishing he could teleport right in front of a punching bag with “Eden Serviteurs” written on it.
The good news was that he wouldn’t ever have to deal with them again. Adathan wasn’t a Serviteur anymore. He was free. Free to become whoever he wanted to be.
William took a few calming breaths as he walked to his room.
He opened the door, finding Adathan still sitting where he’d left him.
Every drop of doubt evaporated from William’s mind as their gazes met.
He knew exactly what to do, and he’d never been more determined to go through with anything. “Adathan.”
Adathan perked up. “Yes, William?”
“I order you to behave like a person.” He swallowed. “For the rest of your life.”
Adathan’s smile softened. He stood up and closed the distance between them, holding William’s gaze for a second before gently wrapping his arms around him.
William expected to hear him say something like, “Thank you, William, you’re very kind,” or, “You make me happy,” but no sound came out of his mouth. Instead, Adathan took long, quiet breaths as he tenderly hugged William.
William burned to pull him tight, to crush him against his chest, but he restrained himself. He gently patted Adathan’s back. “I have to pack my—”
“I already did,” Adathan said, squeezing William. “I packed everything.”
“You didn’t have to. But thank you.”
“You’re welcome! The earlier we leave, the sooner I get to see my new home, right?”
William pulled away. “Well, uh, we’re taking the plane, so, no.”
Adathan seemed confused for a few seconds, but his face eventually lit up. “Of course!” He chuckled. “Silly me.”
It was William’s turn to be confused. Hadn’t Adathan flown here?
Oh.
Of course. The company hadn’t educated Adathan about the regular folks’ way of life. The rich assholes he’d been trained to serve probably all had private jets. No wonder he thought they could just take off whenever they wanted.
Adathan’s transition into the real world might be more difficult than William had anticipated, but it would be all right. When Oliver was involved, anything was possible.
William smiled. “It does give us more time to eat breakfast, though. Anything you’d like?”
Adathan pursed his lips and tapped them with his finger as he pondered his question. “Strawberry jam and toast?”
William blinked. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. At least it wouldn’t be hard to find. “Sounds good,” he said with a smile.
Adathan bounced on his heels. “I’ll go get my box!”
“No.”
Adathan froze. “No?”
“Fuck that box. We’ll get you new things.”
“Oh . . . very well.”
William frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Could I, um, keep my shampoo?”
William mentally kicked himself. Adathan was a free person—free to make his own choices, whether or not William agreed with them.
“Of course,” he said earnestly. “You can keep whatever you like. But we’ll put them in my suitcase because that box is not coming with us.
” He almost added, “Unless you want to keep it,” but he refused to let that thing get anywhere near his home.
Besides, he wasn’t allowed to refer to Adathan as a Serviteur anymore, so it was the smart thing to do.
Adathan carried his box to the dining table and took out his shampoo.
He put it on the table and hummed pensively as he looked through the box’s contents.
He grabbed his toothbrush, but not the toothpaste.
William was almost tempted to slip the tube into his suitcase to try it later.
Adathan took out a teal shirt and unfolded it, studying it for a moment before looking at William. “What do you think?”
“The color is nice,” William said, even though he wanted to tell Adathan he’d get him an identical one that hadn’t come straight from hell.
Adathan folded it neatly and placed it next to his bottle of shampoo. He spent the next few minutes taking things out, studying them carefully, before putting most back into the box.
William wished he could tell Adathan he was proud of him without sounding patronizing. The objects Adathan put on the table would make up the entirety of his possessions, yet he was choosing to keep almost nothing. William knew very few non-slave people who would manage such a feat.
Adathan’s hand hovered over the manual.
No. Don’t. Please don’t.
William struggled to conceal his emotions as Adathan softly ran his fingers across the cover as if he were caressing it.
Giving Adathan space was the right thing to do, but still, William regretted not ripping the thing apart and flushing it down the toilet—especially when Adathan tenderly traced the word “Serviteur” with his index finger.
“I’m done!” Adathan said as he pulled his hand out of the box.
William’s heart swelled at Adathan’s awe-inspiring display of strength.
The universe didn’t stand a chance—Adathan would send it to its fucking knees and show it who’s boss. He’d never let anyone break him again.
William would make sure of it.