Chapter Thirty-Two
~ Mr and Mrs. Sinclair ~
Soren
I lean back in the large leather armchair in the break room, legs stretched out, watching everything from a distance.
I gave Kit some space on purpose. After I finished feeding him the rest of that sandwich, I could feel him getting overwhelmed again, that familiar mix of shyness and irritation flickering across his face.
So I backed off. Sat over here instead of crowding him.
I’ve never had to fight the urge to constantly have my hands on someone before.
But with Kit… it’s different. I want him close all the time.
Want him on my lap, under my arm, wearing my scent.
It’s fucking unsettling how strong the pull is.
The break room is lively tonight. The TV’s on low in the corner with some football match playing.
A few of the lads are throwing darts in the far corner, laughing and shit-talking.
Ray and Lorraine are deep into their chess rematch at the side table, Lorraine already winding him up him with a smug little smile.
Ralph is on his break, leaning against the wall talking with Armen about something…
probably guns or cars, knowing those two.
And Kit… he’s sitting on the big couch near Selina and Aria, curled up with his knees drawn up.
He looks small, quiet, and still a little flushed from earlier.
I can’t stop watching him. Even from across the room, my eyes keep drifting back to the way he tucks his hair behind his ear, how he winces slightly when he smiles too wide and pulls at the healing scar.
I clench my jaw; that scar shouldn’t fucking be there.
Every time I see it, the rage flickers again…
not at him, but at the fact that I let it happen.
I want to go over there. Want to pull him onto my lap and feel him relax against me like he did earlier. But I stay seated.
This need I have for him… it’s getting dangerous. I’ve never been this full-on with anyone. Never wanted to possess someone so completely. And yet here I am, a man who’s built an empire on control, losing it over one quiet, curly-haired boy who still flinches when I move too fast sometimes.
Ray glances over at me mid-chess move and raises an eyebrow, like he can read exactly what I’m thinking. I just glare at him until he smirks and looks back at the board. I take a slow sip of my whiskey, eyes returning to Kit. He hasn’t looked at me once since we came in here.
I wonder how long I can actually manage to give him this space before I break and drag him back to me.
◆◆◆
I’m still watching Kit from across the room when Ralph walks over with a little grin and taps me on the shoulder. “Boss,” he murmurs quietly, leaning in. “Your folks are at the gate.”
I sigh heavily and give him a single nod. “Let them in.”
Ralph heads out, as I stand up and clap my hands once, loud enough that the whole room falls quiet and turns toward me.
“My parents are here,” I announce, voice firm. “Behave. You all know the rules.”
Kit’s head snaps up instantly, his face going pale. I can see the panic flicker across his expression.
“Kit,” I say, locking eyes with him. “Come with me.”
He blinks. “What? Why?”
“Now.”
I don’t wait for more questions. I turn and walk out, hearing his hurried footsteps behind me a second later. The second we’re out of sight; I scoop him up into my arms and jog up the stairs with him.
His clothes have officially been moved into our room now. This is his space too, whether he’s fully accepted it yet or not. I’m hoping he’ll stop hiding in that damn living room and actually sleep up here with me every night soon.
Kit clings to my shoulders, voice confused. “Uh, Soren… are you hiding me?”
I laugh under my breath. “No.”
I set him down once we’re inside the bedroom and head straight to his side of the wardrobe. I pull out a crisp black button-down and a pair of dark trousers.
“Arms up,” I order.
“I can dress myself,” he protests weakly.
I ignore his weak protest. My hands move with purpose as I reach for the hem of the oversized sleep shirt he’s currently wearing.
I tug it slowly up his body and over his head, careful not to catch the fabric on his face.
The shirt drops to the floor behind us, leaving his upper body bare.
Kit’s breath catches, his cheeks are already flushed.
I run my hands down his sides, thumbs brushing over the fading bruises on his ribs, before I pick up the button-down.
I hold it open for him. He slips his arms through the sleeves without argument.
I step in close and begin buttoning it from the bottom, taking my time with every single button.
My fingers deliberately brush against his skin with each one, possessive and slow.
Kit’s face is burning red. “Why am I dressing up?”
I don’t have time to explain that answer to him.
“Put your trousers on, gel your hair, put some shoes on, and choose a watch,” I tell him.
Downstairs, I hear my mother’s bright voice call out, “Soren!”
I give Kit a once-over, my eyes lingering on how the black shirt sits on him, before I turn and leave the bedroom. I pull the door shut behind me with a soft click and jog down the grand staircase, running a hand through my hair to tame it back into place just before I reach the bottom.
“Hello, Mother,” I say, voice even.
She immediately wraps her arms around me. I inhale and hug her back, never particularly comfortable with parental affection. Truth is, the only person I seem to want touching me these days is Kit.
My father steps forward and gives me a firm handshake. “Good to see you, son.”
He’s not quite as tall as I am, but it’s clear where I got my height from. My mother is about the same height as Kit… petite, elegant, and far sharper than most people give her credit for.
Selina, Armen, and Ray come out to greet them almost immediately.
Selina, as always, is the most enthusiastic.
She throws her arms around my mother first, then my father, hugging them both tightly.
My dad looks visibly awkward, stiffening like he doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands.
It makes the corner of my mouth twitch upward in a rare grin.
My mother smiles brightly. “Now, I know we didn’t give you any warning, but we were on the highway passing through your city anyway, so naturally we needed to visit.”
I nod. “Of course. It’s nice to see you both.”
She beams. “Shall we go out and eat? I presume there won’t be anything prepared.”
Before I can answer, my father gestures toward the others. “Everyone is welcome, of course.”
Suddenly Selina lets out a low whistle. “Christopher! Oh, my goodness…”
Armen grins like an idiot. I frown and turn just as Kit reaches the bottom of the grand staircase. Fuck, he looks… devastating.
His dark curls are gelled neatly, one rebellious strand falling over his forehead.
The black button-down I chose for him is fitted just right, with the top two buttons now undone, showing a hint of collarbone and the edge of his healing bruises.
The tailored trousers hug his frame perfectly, and on his feet are those sleek black Prada boots Selina had insisted on buying after she took his measurements.
The gold watch on his wrist catches the light with every movement.
Even the scar, still red and prominent across his face, doesn’t ruin the picture.
If anything, it makes him look sharper, more dangerous.
Like something that survived hell and came out the other side changed. I can’t stop staring.
Kit offers his hand to my father first. “You must be Mr. Sinclair. Nice to meet you, I’m Christopher.”
My father’s large hand nearly swallows Kit’s as they shake. Then, like he’s a completely different person tonight, Kit turns to my mother, takes her hand gently, and presses a soft kiss to her knuckle.
“Mrs. Sinclair,” he says, voice smooth and charming, “a pleasure.”
The entire room goes quiet for a beat. My team is staring because they’ve never seen this version of Kit… confident, polished, almost seductive. My parents are staring because a scar like that, especially on someone so young, isn’t something you see every day.
Kit lets out a small, self-aware laugh. “I’m sure we’ve got better things to do than stare at my scar.”
My mother clears her throat, flustered. “Oh, I’m so sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to… I mean…” She trails off, clearly dying to ask.
I cut in bluntly. “Christopher was kidnapped and tortured. Shall we go to dinner now?”
Kit’s head snaps toward me, eyes wide like he can’t believe I just said that so casually, in the same sentence.
My father claps Kit on the shoulder, a little too firmly. “My apologies for staring, kid. It’s just not something you see every day.”
Then, to my mild surprise, my dad starts leading Kit toward the front doors, already chatting with him. “We’re going to this lovely place by the river. Have you ever…”
Their voices fade as they step outside.
Selina laughs under her breath. “Wow… okay. Wasn’t expecting that.”
My mother turns to me, concerned. “Is he okay? That looks fresh still.”
I inhale sharply. “I don’t want to talk about it, Mother.”
She nods quickly. “Okay, love. Well… get sorted. We’ll be waiting. I guess Christopher is riding with us. We’ll meet you there?”
“Take care of him,” I demand, putting trust in my parents with the one person I truly love.
She smiles and walks out with Selina.
Ray and Armen are still standing here, stunned.
Armen eventually mutters, “Okay… I can’t process any part of what just happened.”
Ray just shakes his head. “I… what…”
I let out a low laugh. “Let’s go. I need a fucking drink.”
◆◆◆
My driver pulls the SUV smoothly up to the entrance of the five-star restaurant perched high above the river. The bridge below sparkles with lights reflecting off the dark water. I step out first, buttoning my blazer with a sharp tug, adjusting it over my shoulders.