Chapter Twelve
~ Unusual ~
Soren
I feel rough this morning. The kind of rough that has nothing to do with lack of sleep and everything to do with the look on Kit’s face last night when he called me a monster.
I went straight to my study, leaving Selina and Armen to handle the comfort I’ve never been any good at.
I don’t know hushed words or soft reassurances.
So instead, I buried myself in the boring, legitimate side of my world for a couple of hours…
taxes, inventory logs, supplier contracts for the four car dealerships I actually run across the city.
They bring in decent, clean money. Not enough to fund this estate, but enough that no one asks too many questions.
People know they can get the best vehicles from my lots, whether it’s a luxury ride or a reliable everyday car.
It’s all inclusive, legitimate, boring, and exactly what I needed last night.
Now it’s breakfast. I’m sat at the head of the long table with a large black coffee steaming in front of me and a plate of pancakes and bacon that Lorraine’s team somehow decided I needed. I don’t question it; I just eat.
Ray’s seated to my left, already halfway through his own plate.
“Make sure the two new imports arriving today get signed for and inspected properly,” I tell him, voice still a little rough. “I want eyes on every panel and every serial number. No mistakes.”
Ray nods without hesitation. “Already have two guys waiting at the dock. I’ll go down myself after breakfast and double-check the paperwork. You want them brought straight to the main lot or the secure warehouse?”
“Main lot for now. Keep them visible. Makes people think we’re just another successful dealership.”
“Got it, boss.”
I turn my head slightly toward the other end of the table. “You two know what you’re working on already.”
Sam mock-salutes with a grin. “Yes, boss.”
Luke just throws me a shit-eating wink and a lazy salute of his own. I shake my head… those two are cocky as hell, but they get shit done, so I let them have it.
Ralph walks in then, nodding once. “Morning.”
Behind him, Armen appears, still looking half-asleep but never missing a chance to perform. “Good morning, degenerates.”
I roll my eyes. “Sit the fuck down, Armen. It’s too early for your theatrical bullshit.”
Armen laughs brightly and drops into his usual seat next to Ray.
A minute later, while I’m taking a sip of coffee and scanning the morning newspaper, Selina comes barrelling in like a ray of unwanted sunshine. “Good morning, boss!”
Before I can react, she leans over the back of my chair and wraps her arms around me in a quick hug from behind.
I freeze. “When the fuck did I give you the impression that I wanted to be touched, Selina?”
She giggles, completely unbothered, and releases me. “Sorry, boss. Just appreciating you.”
I eye her as she slides into her seat. “I ain’t fucking you, Selina.”
She chokes on her sip of water. The entire table bursts out laughing. Ray mutters “Jesus Christ” under his breath while shaking his head.
Selina recovers, still smiling. “Boss! Just… after last night, I realise how good you’ve always been to all of us.”
I grunt. “Don’t get sentimental, Selina, or I’ll make you spend the day cleaning guns.”
She shrugs, still cheerful. “If you want me to clean a few guns, I can handle that.”
I grin, slow and sharp. “All of the guns, Selina.”
She laughs. “Or… hear me out… I don’t do that, and I go take Aria down to the shooting range instead. She needs to get better with the Glock 19. Her grouping is still sloppy at twenty-five yards.”
Aria grins, all bubbly energy. “Yeah… let’s get nasty.”
I raise a brow at her. “Did someone drop you as a baby?”
Aria laughs brightly. “Um, no! Guns are just fun though… am I right, boys?”
Ray grins and shakes his head. “They’re not supposed to be fun, princess.”
Armen laughs and fist-pumps her across the table.
I exhale through my nose. “Jesus Christ. Shut up and let me read.”
The table gradually settles into its usual low hum of conversation. I dip a strip of bacon into the syrup on my plate and take a sweet, crunchy bite, the newspaper open in front of me. For a moment, everything almost feels normal.
I hear Kit’s voice before I see him, brighter than it has any right to be after last night. “Thanks, Lorraine.”
He steps into the dining room properly. I don’t look up; I keep my eyes fixed on the newspaper in front of me, rereading the same sentence for the third time without absorbing a single word.
Armen speaks first, casual as ever. “Feeling better, kid?”
“Yeah, thanks Armen.”
Selina laughs softly. “Don’t you look good this morning.”
Someone at the table whistles low. My curiosity spikes, but I stay neutral, face still buried in the paper.
Truth is, after last night I can’t even lie to myself anymore.
I’m not protecting Kit, not really, he knows the truth now.
He knows exactly who his parents were and what I did.
Maybe he’ll want to leave, pack a bag, and start fresh somewhere far away from this chaos and from me.
And maybe that would be the right thing.
Because deep down I know the sick truth: I liked having him here when he was innocent and terrified.
I liked being the only monster he had to fear.
Or at least that’s what I tell myself… I tell myself I don’t still want him wrapped around me like he was last night, small and warm and trusting.
I tell myself I don’t still want him in my bed, curled against my chest like he belongs there.
I clench my jaw hard and shove the thought away.
Kit pulls out the chair on my right, the one opposite Ray, the one I forced him to sit in every single day for two years, and sits down without hesitation. I still don’t look at him.
I just lift my coffee and take a slow sip. “You don’t have to sit there anymore, Christopher.”
The entire table goes quiet. Ray stills beside me.
Forks pause mid-air. These nosy bastards have always loved watching the two of us, complete opposites, Kit being the only person I’ve ever let get this close.
And now I’ve just called him Christopher and released him from the seat I made him occupy for two years.
Kit inhales sharply. “What? I… don’t?”
I grunt and exhale. “That’s what I just said.”
“Oh… thanks, I guess. But… I’m here now.”
I nod once, acting like I couldn’t care less.
His dainty hand comes to rest on the table, innocent as anything, but a little too close to where mine is resting. I wrap my fingers around my mug instead, keeping them busy.
Selina leans forward, all sunshine. “So, what are you gonna do today, Kitty?”
I roll my eyes inwardly. When the fuck did she start calling him Kitty?
Kit answers softly, “I think I’m gonna try going out again.”
“That’s great, Kit,” Selina says, warm and encouraging. “But remember… don’t push yourself too far. Exposure therapy, not diving into the deep end.”
“Yeah, got it.”
Selina turns to me. “Why don’t you go with him, boss?”
“I’m busy, Selina. I don’t have time to babysit.”
Kit scoffs. The small, rare sound is what finally makes me lean back in my chair and look at him, one brow raised.
Only then do I really see what he’s wearing.
Black jeans that actually fit him for once, and my black button-down…
the one I told him to keep and wear more often.
It’s far too big on his smaller frame, half-tucked, half-hanging loose, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, collar slipping off one shoulder, exposing his collarbone.
His dark curls look… styled, like he put something in them; making them look soft and deliberately tousled instead of their usual messy chaos.
He looks good, too fucking good. I hate it…
how much effort he clearly put in this morning.
I hate the way my gaze drags slowly over every detail before I can stop myself, and I especially hate the sharp twist of want that coils low in my gut.
I force my eyes back to his face, keeping my expression carefully blank, even as my fingers tighten around the handle of my coffee mug. “Problem?” I ask.
Kit flushes but lifts his chin. “Babysit?” He mimics the word exactly as I said it.
I nod. “Have you forgotten who I am? How many employees I have? How many businesses I have to run?”
He shakes his head, frowning. “Of course not, but…”
I’m not sure why he’s being so talkative and bold today.
This is everything I wanted for two years…
Kit speaking to me without fear in his voice.
But now that he’s offering it willingly, just because he finally knows the truth, it feels wrong.
He couldn’t get comfortable with me on his own.
He had to be shown proof that I’m not a complete monster.
I push my chair back and stand. “Have a good day, everyone. I’ll be in my study. Don’t disturb me unless it’s important.”
I don’t miss the quiet sighs and exchanged glances as I walk out of the dining room, the weight of Kit’s eyes on my back the entire way.
◆◆◆
An hour later I’m still buried in my study, the remains of three strong coffees pushed to the side.
I’ve managed to get through the quarterly tax filings for all four dealerships, signed off on two new supplier contracts, and approved the latest shipment manifests for the legitimate side of the business.
The legitimate work is mind-numbing, but it keeps the IRS off my back and gives the empire a clean face.
The door suddenly swings open without a knock. I scowl, already opening my mouth to tell whoever it is to fuck off, when Kit steps inside and closes the door behind him with a purposeful click.
I sigh and lean back in my chair. “Christoph…”
“Uh, no,” he cuts in.
My brows rise. “Excuse me?”
“No,” he repeats, voice steadier than I’ve ever heard it. “I won’t excuse you. Why are you being like this, this morning?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Like what?”