CHAPTER 3
“Yeah, it feels so good!” Chadwick exclaimed in ecstasy, his head tilted back, as he shot his load deep into his partner’s ass.
After a few moments of silence, he caught his breath, then continued.
“You know, Dick, I’m always pleasantly impressed with how tight you are, given how hard and how long I plow that ass of yours. ”
“And I wonder why you have to be such a selfish bastard all the time.” The other, much younger man huffed in frustration as he struggled to free his hands, tied behind his back. “I let you restrain me, thinking you would take care of my problem, too, but as usual, I was bitterly wrong.”
“If you’re thinking about jerking off on my couch and ruining it, think again.
” Chadwick slipped off his sex partner, slapping away the hand that reached for his cock.
“I’ll have you killed and buried on a construction site; this thing is made of the finest leather.
I paid a great deal of money for it.” Tucking his flaccid cock back into his underwear, he zipped his pants and started pacing up and down his office.
“Fuck you and your goddamn piece of furniture. I need release.” The other one plopped onto the couch, legs spread wide, spat into his hand, and began stroking himself.
“I am not taking orders from you. I am not little Lincoln, you know. That one is a pain slut who takes everything dished out to him without complaining.”
Chadwick examined the other man with a mix of interest, disgust, and a hint of amusement. “There’s something almost animalistic about you jerking off. I find it fascinating. Oh, speaking of my dear play partner, I’m afraid we won’t be together anymore; unfortunately, we’ll have to part ways.”
Eyes half-closed, grunting from time to time, the younger man pumped his dick furiously.
“And why is that, if you don’t mind me asking?
Did you finally find out he was being pounded by half of New York City’s male population?
Well, it’s no wonder, since he is a nice piece of ass, if I may say so myself.
” The younger man, with a fragile, boyish appearance, huffed a laugh.
Chadwick shook his head, annoyed. “You know, sometimes I think the ass is the best part of you.” He swept his gaze up and down the adolescent-looking man, who was close to the edge.
“I think the bitch we both know and hate started to suspect something, or so Linc believes. Over the past week or so, she has been throwing out innuendos here and there.”
“Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah,” the other guy chanted as he spilled over his fist, then closed his eyes, lost in post-orgasmic bliss. “Finally,” he breathed, still panting, his chest slick with sweat.
Finally, what? Chadwick shot the guy on the couch a poisonous glare.
“Does the thought of the bitch finding out about me and Linc make you happy, little fucker? It shouldn’t, because if it happens, I’ll have to take the edge off with someone else.
And guess what?” He wrapped his hand around the younger man’s now limp cock.
“Leave me alone, fucker,” the other sank his nails into Chadwick’s wrist and broke free.
“You know what?” he continued, standing and heading to the door.
“For a moment, I was sorry for you and that pathetic fuck-toy of yours, but then I remembered what pieces of shit the two of you are.” Hand on the doorknob, he turned around.
“Don’t count on me to replace him in your bed, asshole. ”
Richard Ronson winced as he stepped out of the shower, thinking that provoking that nasty moron wasn’t a good idea.
The large bruises across his sides and torso were a painful reminder of the beating he’d received a week earlier for being a disrespectful little brat, as Chadwick put it after administering the punishment.
Richard took a sharp inhale, only to wince again right after.
The fucking piece of trash got me good. I think he cracked a rib.
Right after the incident, Esteban, the head guard, doctored him up with a bag of ice, an elastic bandage, and an ointment for the bruises.
The man also suggested he see a doctor about those ribs.
Yeah, like anyone cared whether I lived or died, Richard bitterly thought, shaking his head as he patted his skin with the towel, careful not to touch the worst-looking bruises.
He wasn’t of age yet and couldn’t check into a hospital without parental consent, but none of his parents would bother to take him there or even sign a consent form.
At charity events and other social gatherings she attended, Richard was a source of embarrassment to his mother—the “oops baby” who turned her life upside down at forty.
While most of her friends were beginning to test the marriage market in search of the best suitors for their sons and daughters, she had to start all over: diapers, onesies, bottles, sleepless nights, and everything she thought she had left behind eighteen years earlier when she gave birth to Chadwick.
His father cared about Richard even less than his mother did.
For Umberto Ronson, the seventeen-year-old who looked much more mature than his age, he was a constant disappointment, and the kid couldn’t understand why, no matter how hard he tried.
Studying and constantly working to improve himself so he could make his father proud was his main goal in life, but the man couldn’t care less about his youngest son’s efforts.
Truth be told, Richard had no purpose in the family business.
He believed there was no point in studying journalism, economics, or business administration because, in his view, his opinion didn’t matter, no matter how solid his expertise.
His older siblings, especially Allegra, made sure to remind him every day how irrelevant he was to them.
Richard’s reluctance to work for the family business didn’t mean he was lazy.
Instead, he showed a strong interest in studying the histories of countries worldwide to better understand their current state and predict their future.
Additionally, the teenager was an avid reader of books on military strategy, philosophy, psychology, and law.
Richard’s sister, Allegra, once said the books he was reading would make him a good politician.
It was a cruel joke, but their father’s response was even harsher: Umberto said that building a successful political career required huge expenses, and since he never invested in or spent money on anything useless, he wasn’t going to start so late in life.
With a long, heavy sigh, Richard opened his dresser and grabbed a light-gray shirt and a pair of dress pants.
As in most parts of his life, the boy had no say in what he wore.
All his clothes, even the underwear, were chosen by his mother, who warned him each time that any protest against her choices would leave him on the street with nothing but the clothes on his back.
Another family dinner, Richard sighed to himself as he struggled to get dressed, each movement making the most damaged side scream in protest. He wished he could wear one of those corset vests for men he saw in an ad on his phone, but his mother thought they were too decadent and inappropriate for a young man from a respectable family.
One of those would help ease the pain, he thought, but I guess I was born to suffer.
A lone tear slid down Richard’s cheek, but the teen quickly wiped it away, terrified of how his father would react if he saw it.
The man harshly punished his youngest for less, and the boy took it well, but this time he wasn’t sure he could.
Pressing his lips into a tight line, he stepped out of the room and began to climb the monumental spiral staircase leading downstairs.
The sound of footsteps on the dining room’s marble floor made Richard’s blood run cold.
He hugged himself to stop shaking like a leaf in the cold autumn wind, nearly losing his balance in the process.
Shit, no, he thought. I’m late and... No, he left the thought unfinished.
Don’t go there, boy. You’re only going to make things worse.
Richard let out an audible sigh of relief when he saw none of his parents were there yet.
On the other hand, the muscles in his neck, back, and arms instantly tensed at the sight of his sister Allegra, her husband Lincoln, and their sons Keith and Darby.
Why the hell are all of them here? he wondered, half-irritated, half-confused.
Family dinners were for family—parents and their three children; his father made that very clear on many occasions.
“Hi, everyone,” Richard began from the doorway, trying hard to hide the tremor in his voice. “Long time no see,” he said to his brother-in-law and nephews. “How are you?”
“I’m good, thanks for asking,” Lincoln answered, feigning concern as he examined the teen. “Unfortunately, I can’t say the same about you, at least not by your appearance.”
“Yes, little brother, my husband is right,” Allegra frowned and stepped beside Richard, examining his face. “What on earth happened to you? Was it one of those old perverts, your so-called boyfriends, who did this to you?”
“Hello, fam,” Chadwick’s lazy voice made Richard’s muscles tense even more.
“Oh, come on, sissy, don’t pretend you care about the little fag here.
He’s a stain on our family’s good name, with all the crazy parties he attends and the fellas of dubious reputation he calls friends.
” The man turned to his sister’s husband. “Linc, my man, how are you?”
“An asshole, as always,” Allegra shook her head, a mix of disgust and disapproval.
“Come on, sit over there,” she guided her younger brother to his seat at the table, then turned to the second-born.
“I had a long, very interesting talk with Papa today in his office, and he said that from now on he wants us to treat each other like a family. A real one,” she emphasized the last three words.
“Yeah, sure,” Chadwick drawled, “the greedy, manipulative little lady who wants the entire family company for herself and plots behind her brother’s back to strip him of his rights comes here and tells us to be a real family.
” He applauded sarcastically. “For a whole second, you had me, but then I remembered who was talking to me, and nah, I won’t fall for these beautiful words. ”
“You better,” Umberto’s harsh voice made his older son flinch.
“Because it was me speaking through your sister’s voice.
” As he took his seat at the end of the table, he shot the younger man a disdainful look.
“Unless, of course, you want to claim your own place under the sun and in this world, far from this house—and my company.”
“Sure, Dad, it will be as you command,” Chadwick said with a nod, “as always.” He glanced toward the doorway, expecting to see his mother, who always discreetly sided with him, but to his surprise, she was late.
“Speaking of the big, happy family you want us to be, where’s Mom?
Did she disobey your orders, and did you put her in time-out? ”
Umberto took a deep breath, fighting to keep his anger in check.
“Your mother will be here in about ten minutes. I asked her to wait a bit so I could talk to you all. In private, so to speak.” He looked around the table, then let out a shaky sigh.
“I need you. For the first time in my life, I’m asking for your help. ”