Chapter 20
Theo
“Swear to God, the guy couldn't have been a day over twenty-five, but he had the stamina of a fucking racehorse.”
Kaiden shoveled another forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth as I laughed, nearly choking on my orange juice.
It was just after nine in the morning, and we were sitting in our dining area, trading stories over breakfast. The place smelled like coffee and bacon and Kaiden's way-too-strong cologne that he practically bathed in.
“I thought you were going to say he had the dick of a racehorse,” I said with a smirk, reaching for a slice of toast.
Kaiden's eyes widened dramatically, the sleeves of his silk kimono sliding down his arms as he gestured. “Oh honey, that too. I swear, when he dropped his pants, I thought I was hallucinating. I almost called for medical backup.”
We both busted up laughing. It was weird how quickly we'd clicked. Three weeks ago we were total strangers, and now we're sharing breakfast and talking about clients' junk like old friends.
“What about you?” Kaiden asked, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. “Those two guys from the party looked like they knew what they wanted.”
The memory triggered a small twinge in my chest, but it was easy enough to brush off. “They were fine, just rich guys who thought their platinum cards made them fascinating. Not rough or creepy or anything... just enthusiastic.”
Kaiden leaned in, his interest piqued. “Details! Was it both at once or did they take turns?”
I rolled my eyes, chuckling at Kaiden. “Little of both, really. That was their whole act. The matching tuxedos weren't just for show. They're married but like to ‘share experiences,’ as they put it.”
“And how was that?” He seemed curious. “First threesome here, right?”
I nodded, taking a moment to sip my juice.
The sex had been good, but that spark—that crazy connection I had with Ricard—totally missing.
“It was fine. They knew their stuff. One guy, Nikolaj, kept telling me exactly what he wanted, which made things simple. The other one, David, barely talked but was super intense. They had their routine down.”
Kaiden nodded, understanding what I was saying. “But emotionally? You holding up okay?”
This was the real question hiding under our breakfast small talk. I appreciated him checking in. “I'm okay. It's getting easier, like you guys said it would. Last night felt less complicated somehow. Everyone got what they wanted, and nobody was pretending it was something it wasn't.”
“Any news from your duke?” Kaiden arched a perfectly sculpted brow.
Before I could respond, the dining-room door swung open, and Carter strolled in, looking simultaneously exhausted and exhilarated. His hair was disheveled, and there was a visible mark on his neck that hadn't been there yesterday.
“Well, well, well,” Kaiden drawled, “look what the cat dragged in.”
Carter flipped him off good-naturedly as he made his way to our table, dropping into an empty chair with a theatrical groan. “Coffee,” he muttered. “I need coffee before I can process human speech.”
I pushed my half-full mug toward him. “Here. I was done anyway.”
He shot me a grateful look and took a long sip, closing his eyes as the caffeine worked its magic.
When he opened them again, he looked marginally more alive.
“So,” he said, his voice still rough from what I assumed was a night of considerable vocal activity, “what'd I miss? The party go completely off the rails after I left?”
Kaiden and I exchanged glances. “You could say that,” Kaiden replied with a grin. “Our boy Theo here had quite the adventure with the Tuxedo Twins.”
Carter's eyebrows shot up as he turned to me. “The matching tuxedo guys? Shit, how was it?”
I shrugged, trying to downplay the experience even as I felt a small surge of pride at having been chosen. “It was fine. They knew what they wanted, didn't waste time, and tipped well.”
Carter looked impressed. “They must have really liked you. But seriously, how are you doing with all this? Two weeks in, first big party, first threesome... that's a lot.”
I appreciated his concern, which seemed genuine despite the casual way he voiced it.
Both he and Kaiden had taken me under their wings from my first day, offering advice, support, and the occasional necessary reality check.
“I'm okay,” I said, weighing my words. “It's getting easier, like you both said it would.
Last night with those guys, it wasn't... I mean, I didn't feel that pull, you know? Not like...”
“Not like with the duke,” Kaiden finished for me, his voice softening. “That's actually a good thing, Theo. It means you're compartmentalizing.”
Carter nodded in agreement. “The first one always gets under your skin a bit.
It's like losing your virginity all over again.
There's this weird emotional attachment that happens even if you don't want it to. But then you see that most clients are just... clients. They come, they go, they pay well, and life moves on.”
“I know,” I said finally. “And I'm dealing with it. Today's our last meeting before he heads back home.”
My heart had done a small flip as I read the notification earlier that morning.
“Today's client has requested an early afternoon visit. Please report to Villa 6 at 1:00 PM instead of the previously scheduled 6:00 PM. Confirm availability.” I'd quickly tapped “Confirm.” Earlier meant more time with Ricard, but it also meant less time to prepare myself mentally for our last goodbye.
“He wants to see me earlier today,” I explained as I stood and poured myself a fresh mug of coffee. “One o'clock instead of six.”
Carter and Kaiden exchanged a look I couldn't quite interpret.
“What?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious.
“Nothing,” Carter said, a bit too quickly. “Just... be careful, okay? Last appointments can get emotional. For both parties.”
“I'll be fine,” I insisted, though the knot forming in my stomach suggested otherwise. “It's just another session.”
Kaiden snorted. “Honey, if you believe that, I've got a bridge to sell you. But it's okay to care, you know. Just don't forget why you're here.”
Casey. The thought of my brother centered me immediately. “I won't forget,” I promised, as much to myself as to them.
At twelve-forty-five, I left my quarters and walked to Villa 6, my stomach churning with a mix of anticipation and dread. The path to his villa seemed both longer and shorter than usual. Each step brought me closer to a goodbye I wasn't ready for, yet it all happened too quickly.
The sunny weather and bright blue sky felt almost offensive. How could the world look so perfect when I was about to say goodbye to someone who meant so much in such a short time?
I rehearsed, or tried to, what I might say in my head as I walked.
Should I be casual? Professional? Tell him how I really felt?
Each option seemed equally terrible. What do you say to someone who's shown you glimpses of a different life, a life you could never actually have, before they disappear forever?
As I approached Villa 6, something felt off. It took me a moment to realize—the entrance had unusual activity, with a staff member loading luggage into a waiting golf cart.
Reality crashed down on me with physical force. This wasn't just a goodbye conversation. He was literally walking out the door.
My steps faltered, and I nearly turned around. What was the point?
Before I could decide, the front door opened, and there he was.
Ricard stepped out onto the small porch, and my breath caught in my throat.
He was dressed in a suit, not the casual resort wear he'd favored during his stay, but a proper, tailored charcoal gray suit with a crisp white shirt and a tie in a deep burgundy that complemented his coloring perfectly.
His hair was styled more formally than I'd seen it before, and there was something in his bearing, a straightness to his spine and a set to his shoulders, that screamed royalty in a way I hadn't fully appreciated until now.
My mouth went dry. He was every inch the Duke of Avaline, and the transformation from the relaxed, passionate man I'd come to know was jarring, like seeing a stranger wearing the face of someone you love.
This was Ricard as the world outside Dove Canyon saw him—polished, proper, untouchable.
The man who had laughed at Tony Stark's jokes and made breakfast in his underwear had vanished, replaced by this aristocratic figure who belonged in oil paintings and on currency.
He hadn't spotted me yet. He was busy giving instructions to the staff guy about his fancy luggage.
I took the chance to get my shit together, digging my nails into my palms (old trick from speech class) and trying to remember how to breathe normally.
By the time he turned and spotted me, I had managed plaster a fake smile on my face.
“Theo,” he said, and just the sound of my name in his accented voice was enough to make my resolve waver. “Thank you for coming early.”
“Of course,” I replied, proud of how steady my voice sounded. “I got your message.”
He nodded, then turned to the staff member. “That will be all for now, thank you. Please ensure the car is ready in one hour.”
One hour. So this was it. Not an afternoon together as I'd hoped, but a brief, formal goodbye. The disappointment must have shown on my face because Ricard's expression softened as he gestured toward the open door. “Please, come inside.”
He led me to the living room, where the curtains had been drawn back to let in the midday sun. “Please, sit,” Ricard said, indicating the sofa where we had watched movies together just days ago, where we had talked and laughed and kissed as if we had all the time in the world.
I perched on the edge of the cushion, leaving a careful distance between us. Ricard remained standing for a moment, uncertain, before sitting beside me.