Page 20 of Midnight Pleasure

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"Morning, sunshine," Brently drawled, mock warmth dripping from his voice as he sauntered into the hotel room, casually holding the towel at his waist like he owned the place—because, in some way, he did. "Rough night?"

Ares said nothing, taking a slow sip of cooling coffee, praying it would ease the gnawing ache in his head. Brently's presence was impossible to ignore, dragging Ares back to the events of the night before—an argument with Apollo, too much alcohol, and the mistake of letting Brently get too close.

"What the hell happened last night?" Ares bit out, rubbing a hand through his hair to clear the fog. "Where's Apollo?"

Brently's smile widened, predatory. "Ah, yes. Apollo. He's doing ninety days in jail as we speak. Quite the scandal."

Ares's gut dropped, the hangover forgotten. "What? Why? What did you do?"

Bentley's tone was almost casual, as if discussing the weather. "What did I do? It's more about what my dear father wanted. He pushed for a harsher sentence, but I managed to pull some strings and got it down to ninety days—with a few added inconveniences."

"Inconveniences?" Ares felt his blood turn to ice.

Brently's eyes gleamed with cruel amusement. "Nothing too severe. Just the occasional beating from the guards. Some solitude. I paid good money for them to not hurt your hero severely, plus you know, protect him too."

The room tilted as Ares digested Brently's words. "You're an asshole," he scoffed, his voice trembling with anger and fear. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Brently shrugged, indifferent. "I'm just doing what needs to be done. Besides, I didn't take everything. Apollo still has his cabin, workshop, and five acres. Consider it a gift—for you."

"A gift?" Ares stared, horrified. "Why the hell would you give me that?"

Brently's smile turned sly. "Because I care for you, Ares. I always have. You left, remember? I'm just ensuring you're taken care of, even if it means letting Apollo keep a few scraps of dignity."

Ares's mind raced, trying to decipher Brently's motives. Genuine care was laughable—there was always an agenda. But as Ares glanced at Brently, something else caught his eye: bruises crisscrossed Brently's otherwise flawless skin, jagged redness marked his wrists, and minor cuts lined his puffy lips.

"What happened to you?" Ares demanded. "Did Apollo…?"

Brently chuckled, humorless. "Some of it, yes. Apollo's still got quite the punch. But most of this?" He gestured to his bruises and wrists. "These are Rafael's handiwork. He's quite creative when he wants to be."

Disgust churned in Ares's stomach. The thought of Rafael with both Brently and Apollo twisted the situation into something far more complex. Brently noticed the revulsion in Ares's eyes and smiled—a cruel, taunting smile.

"Calm down, Ares. Nothing happened between us last night. I'm not a rapist, but an asshole—yes."

Ares's gaze snapped to Bentley's wedding band as he slipped it onto his finger. "Why do you do this?" Ares asked, voice thick with revulsion. "Why are you like this?"

Brently looked upon him with amused pity. "Because it's who I am, Ares. This world we grew up in—it's about power, control, survival. You know that as well as I do."

He was right, to an extent. The world they grew up in was heartless, a brutal war for dominance hiding under social etiquette. But Ares had walked away to find something real. And now, standing before Brently, a living reminder of all he'd left behind, Ares's resolve hardened.

He wasn't going back.

"Look at you," Brently continued, teasing laced with cruelty. "All grown up—finding your voice. But let's be honest, Ares. You're just running from your dad's influence, the Sinclair dynasty. This town, this life you're trying to build—it's just another escape. Sooner or later, you'll realize that."

Ares stared, calm. "I'm not running from anything. Not anymore."

Bentley's brow arched. "Oh? And what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm choosing," Ares said, meeting Brently's gaze. "I'm choosing a life not defined by what my father wanted or what you think I should be. I'm choosing something better."

Bentley's grin wavered for a moment, and a flicker of vulnerability crossed his face. But it vanished quickly.

"You honestly think you can just walk away from everything? From me, from your father's shadow, from everything you've ever known?"

"Yes," Ares said simply. "I do."

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