Chapter 17
The blue glow from a dozen monitors paints Sebastian’s scarred face in eerie light as he stops in front of me, his question hanging in the air between us.
How did I know where to find him?
When Saint and I set off on this half-cocked plan to beard the Rockford in his cave, I’d been riding the high of my anger and had never considered what showing up on his doorstep would reveal about myself.
“Micah.” Sebastian reaches out to grip my arms. “Answer me. I never told you my last name.”
My fingertips trace his leather desk chair, the material cool and buttery beneath my touch. The monitors cast shadows across the polished wood desk, across expensive equipment I’d kill to have access to.
“You’re not the only one with resources,” I mutter, the words catching in my throat.
Sebastian’s finger on my chin draws my focus back to him. “That’s not an answer.”
I search his face, so familiar yet still so new to me. “I’ve known who you were for the last year.”
Sebastian freezes, his face rigid with shock. “What?”
I pull at a loose thread on my hoodie sleeve, twisting it around my finger until the tip turns purple. “I vet every client who requests a private session as a basic security measure.”
“Vet.” The word falls from his lips flat and hard. “You investigated me?”
“I investigate everyone.” The thread snaps, and I rub my numbed fingertip. “It wasn’t personal.”
Sebastian circles me, stepping into the blue light from the largest monitor. It catches on the raised ridges of his scars, turning them silvery. “So you were aware I was a Rockford before we ever spoke?”
Copper floods my mouth where I’ve bitten the inside of my cheek. “Yes.”
“And that’s how you found me today.” His face drops, the hurt creeping in. “Because you already figured out where I live.”
My chest tightens as betrayal spreads across his face. “It wasn’t like that. I just needed to make sure you weren’t dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” A harsh laugh escapes him. “So you ran a background check on me, found out I’m head of security for one of the wealthiest families in the country, and thought what, exactly?”
“That you might be worth the risk,” I whisper.
Sebastian runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it further. “And my face? You knew about my scars, too?”
I swallow hard, heat climbing my neck. “The library archive had a photo from the hospital post-accident.”
The color drains from his face, leaving his scars stark white in contrast. “So the blindfold was out of pity? Indulging my insecurity?”
“No!” I reach for him, but he steps back, his hip knocking against a row of blinking equipment. “I respected your boundaries. I wanted you to show me when you were ready.”
Sebastian turns away, his tight shoulders straining his shirt. “What else?”
My mouth goes dry. “What?”
“What else did you dig up about me?” He whirls back around. “My family? My finances? My private life?”
I shrink back from his anger. “Just what anyone could find with basic research skills.”
“Basic research.” His hands form fists at his sides. “Do you have any idea how deep our security systems go? How protected our information is?”
The pride in my work flares up before I can stop it. “Not protected enough.”
Sebastian stares at me for a long moment, then lets out a slow breath. “You’re not only a cam boy, are you?”
My hands tremble, and I shove them into my pockets. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t lie.” Sebastian grips his desktop, knuckles white. “Not now.”
The weight of secrets weighs on me. Years of careful anonymity, of protecting myself, of operating in shadows. All of it crumbles under Sebastian’s silent plea for the truth.
How did this turn from my rightful anger at Sebastian to being the one under scrutiny?
“I hack,” I admit at last. “I track down people who stalk and harass sex workers. People who think they can hurt us without consequences.”
Understanding dawns on his face. “People like Travis.”
“Travis isn’t the first predator I’ve dealt with.
But he’s the first to slip through my defenses.
” I wrap my arms around my middle, cold in the air-conditioned room.
“Saint and I handle most of them on our own with anonymous tips to their employers, evidence sent to their families, and digital footprints that lead to consequences.”
The anger on Sebastian’s face vanishes beneath a guarded mask. “And me? Was I another potential threat to neutralize?”
“No.” The word bursts out of me. “You were different. You never pushed, never demanded. You paid for my time and respected my boundaries.”
“Until I Marked you without permission.” His voice cracks.
I touch the bite on my neck and shiver. “That’s different.”
Sebastian straightens, his features hardening again. “So, you knew who I was, what I looked like, where I lived. You had all this information about me while I thought I was protecting my privacy.”
Acidic guilt churns in my stomach. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I liked the fantasy,” I admit, heat rushing to my face. “The idea that we were just two people who found each other online and were getting to know each other. Blank slates.”
Sebastian’s jaw tightens. “And the Rockford name? Was it also part of the appeal?”
“I didn’t say yes because you’re a Rockford. I said yes despite it.” The memory of those first messages floods back, his careful words, his genuine interest in me beyond what I displayed on camera.
How fast we had moved from transactional conversations to real connection that closed the physical distance between us.
Sebastian’s jaw clenches. “What do you mean, despite it?”
“Rich clients are often the worst.” I turn away from him, pacing the length of his desk, the monitors casting shifting shadows across the floor as I move. “They think money buys compliance. That they can pay enough to own someone.”
“And you thought I’d be like that?”
“I didn’t know what to think.” The cool air from a nearby vent raises goose bumps on my arms. “That’s why I research everyone who requests a private session. After what happened before…”
The skin around Sebastian’s eyes tightens with concern. “What happened?”
“Saint and I were raised in a group home together. They didn’t separate us by designation, and our House Manager had an eye for the young Omegas.
Saint stopped him before anything too bad happened,” I rush to reassure Sebastian when his breath quickens.
“We got out, and I set up fake IDs for us to get jobs and rent our own place.”
I leave out how Saint did time in juvenile detention while I was getting our lives sorted. That’s not my story to share.
“The apartment was a complete dump, but it was what we could afford.” A laugh escapes me when I think of it. “I started camming to bring in money, and Saint got a job as a bouncer at a local bar. Then our old House Manager tracked me down.”
A shudder goes through me. “He showed up at our door with a collar, convinced he had a right to own me.”
Sebastian sucks in a sharp breath. “What did you do?”
“Nothing. Saint handled everything. Put the guy in the hospital and exposed what he’d been doing at the group home.
Bastard’s still in jail.” Grim satisfaction fills me.
The bastard will never again hurt a child in his care.
“Afterward, we moved and set up protocols. Different name. PO Box. VPN. Background checks on anyone who gets too personal.”
Sebastian moves to his chair, sinking into the leather with a soft creak. The blue light from the monitors hollows out his cheeks, deepening the shadows under his eyes. “So my name, my family…”
“It meant you could be verified.” I shrug, trying to be casual despite the pounding of my heart. “Nothing more sinister than that.”
“You should have told me.” His fingers drum on the arm of his chair. “About the background check.”
A laugh bubbles up. “And say what? ‘Hey, I stalked you online before our first session, hope that’s cool?’ It’s not like you admitted to figuring out where I lived until you were forced to show your hand.”
His lips twitch. “Fair point.”
“We all protect ourselves, Sebastian.” I gesture to the wall of surveillance feeds. “You, with your cameras and security. Me, with my background checks and fake names.”
Sebastian studies my face, searching for deception. “Then why? Why let me in at all?”
“Because you were kind,” I say. “Because you listened. Because you made me laugh. The name didn’t matter.”
“But the money did.”
I huff out a breath. “Sebastian, you were literally paying for my time. Of course, it mattered in the beginning. But only insofar as it proved you could afford private sessions, the same as anyone else who requested solo time. If the fact that you paid me is going to be an issue going forward, then we’re done here. ”
“No.” Sebastian lurches forward in his chair to catch my arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I’ve just… It wouldn’t be the first time someone has used me for my family name.”
I reach out to touch his chest. “I understand being used. But even if you were a regular office worker, I still would have accepted your request. You were kind, and you didn’t treat me like some dildo-bouncing twink.”
His fingers dig into the armrest. “Who called you that?”
“Oh, honey.” I step between his spread knees. “Don’t you read the comments on my live shows? So many people call me that and worse.”
“They shouldn’t.” He cups my waist. “You provide companionship to stave off loneliness.”
“And that’s why I love my job.” I let my hand come to rest on his arm. “I don’t let the assholes ruin the service I provide for those who need it.”
“So, you tracked Travis because he was one of those assholes?” he asks.
“Tried to.” I grimace. “He’s a multiple offender who’s been blocked from more than one channel for harassment. We figured out he worked at the mail sorting station where my fan gifts got rerouted, and Saint went to have a word with him, but he’s good at disappearing.”
“Better than you?”
A humorless laugh escapes me. “He turned out to be jumpier than most creeps. Usually, they think that the anonymity of being online means they can’t be found in real life. But he vanished as soon as I blocked all his socials and his credit cards, so he couldn’t sign up for new accounts.”
Sebastian studies me thoughtfully. “Then why the blindfold? If you already knew about my scars, why pretend?”
Heat crawls up my neck, warming my cheeks. “Because it wasn’t my place to take that from you.”
“What do you mean?”
I pick up the framed photo on his desk of me, smiling into the camera during a private session. My heart squeezes, knowing he kept a piece of me close to him even when we weren’t interfacing online.
“When I looked into you, I never expected to meet you in real life. And when we did meet, you weren’t ready to show me your face.” My thumb traces the frame. “The blindfold was your boundary, and I respected it. I wanted you to reveal yourself when you felt safe enough to do it on your own.”
Sebastian goes still, his breathing shallow. “Even though you already knew?”
“Because I already knew.” I set the photo down. “It needed to be your choice. Not mine.”
Sebastian leans forward to rest his forehead on my chest. “You’re not what I expected.”
“Neither are you.” I rake my fingers through his hair, then tug none too gently, pulling his head back. “I expected you to still be there when my Heat ended. After you Marked me.”
Now that I’ve soothed his worries, it’s time for the confrontation we came in here for.