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As I walked away, the echo of his words followed me, a constant reminder of the lines I had crossed.
Back in my study, I poured myself a drink; the alcohol burning a path down my throat. I replayed the scene in my mind, Michael's accusations and the raw pain in his eyes. He had no idea how close he had come to the truth, how deeply his words had cut me.
I don’t care. He chooses pain, I’ll give him pain….
I downed another drink, trying to drown the questions that refused to be silenced. I had built my life on control, on power, on not allowing anyone to get too close. And yet, Michael had somehow slipped through the cracks, igniting feelings I had long thought buried.
Despite my lingering anger and the turmoil brewing inside me, I found myself standing outside Michael's door once more, a tray of food in hand. I had barely composed myself, my emotions still a storm beneath the surface. Steeling myself for another confrontation, I pushed open the door.
Michael was there, looking as if he hadn't moved since our last exchange. His eyes, swollen from crying, widened the moment he saw me. Before I could say a word, he sprang from the bed and threw himself at my feet, clutching my legs as if his life depended on it.
"Vincent, please," he sobbed, his voice breaking with desperation. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said."
His tears soaked through my trousers, and I stood there, momentarily stunned. This wasn't the defiant, angry Michael from before. This was a broken man, a man willing to do anything to save his brother.
"Michael," I began, my voice harsher than I intended, trying to mask the confusion and pain his display of raw emotion stirred within me.
He looked up at me, his face a picture of utter despair. "Please, Vincent. Stop the job. Bring Ryan back. I don't care what you do to me. I'll do anything. Just, please, don't let him die."
I felt my resolve wavering, but I couldn't show weakness. "Michael, stop—"
"No, listen to me, please!" he interrupted, his grip tightening around my legs. "You gave him that contract. You can give me a new one. Write it up. If you forgive our debt and bring him back safely, I'll stay with you. Forever. I'll be your prisoner, your lover, your slave—whatever you want. Just, please, let my brother go."
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. The rawness of his plea, the absolute surrender in his voice—it was almost more than I could bear. I knelt, lifting his chin so our eyes met. The depth of his pain, his love for his brother, and his willingness to sacrifice himself for Ryan—these were emotions I had long tried to bury within myself.
"Michael," I said softly, my voice betraying the conflict I felt. "You would give up your freedom for him?"
He nodded, tears streaming down his face. "If you care for me at all, take my offer. Let my brother go."
I closed my eyes for a moment, struggling to keep my composure. Then, I made my decision. "Fine," I said, my voice firm. "If that's what you want, that's what you'll get. I'll free your brother, and you will stay in my service indefinitely."
Relief flooded his face, mixed with a fresh wave of tears. "Thank you, Vincent. Thank you."
I stood up, feeling a strange mix of triumph and regret. I had won, yet it felt like a hollow victory. "I’ll have the papers drawn up. This ends now."
With that, I turned and left the room, the sound of Michael's quiet sobs following me down the hallway. As I closed the door behind me, I couldn't shake the feeling that, in gaining his submission, I had lost something far more valuable.
Chapter 10
Michael
I sat alone in the room, my mind swirling with the events of the day. After that intense afternoon with Vincent, I had been waiting, expecting the new contract to be drafted. Every sound outside the door made my heart race, anticipating Vincent's return. The hours dragged on, and the silence was deafening.
Just as I was beginning to lose hope, the door creaked open. I looked up, expecting Vincent, but instead, there was Ryan. My brother. He rushed in, and we collided in a hug, both of us in tears. It felt surreal, holding him, knowing he was safe.
“I can’t believe it,” Ryan murmured, his voice choking with emotion. “I thought I’d never see you again. The deal fell through, and I got picked up at the airport…. I don’t understand.”
“You’re back safe,” I replied, my voice shaking. “That’s all that matters.”
After the initial wave of happiness, I pulled back and looked at him seriously. “Vincent kept his word,” I said. “Now, I have to keep mine.” Ryan gave me a puzzled look.
I turned to Vincent, who was standing in the doorway, watching us with an unreadable expression. “Thank you, Vincent,” I said, sincerity in every word. “I will do my part of the deal as promised.”
Ryan looked at me, his face contorted. To my surprise, before I could even face my brother with answers, Vincent stepped forward and handed me a piece of paper. I unfolded it and stared at the words in disbelief. It was a statement declaring our debt cleared. Both Ryan and I were speechless.
“I don’t understand,” I finally managed to say. “Why?”
Vincent’s eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something—regret, maybe. “I no longer want to keep you here by force, Michael,” he said, his voice firm but soft. “I don’t need you or want you here anymore.”
