Page 27 of The Chameleon

In an instant, everything could be taken away. Just like his parents.

Which was another reason why he was taking this anniversary so hard.

He needed to make contingency plans, just in case something were to happen to him. There was too much at stake. He was the sole heir to a billion-dollar fortune.

He needed…

“I think I’m going to go away for a few days. A week perhaps,” Matteo blurted.

Chase lowered his tablet, giving Matteo his full attention. “Like on a vacation or something?”

“Well, in a way… perhaps. I need some time to clear my head and figure a few things out.”

Matteo watched as Isaac and Jared flirted with one of the guests who was staying for a week at the club. Now that Isaac and Jared were officially a couple, they had decided that theywould continue to strip and entertain guests at the club but would no longer offer one-on-one intimate sessions with guests. Matteo didn’t have an issue with their decision.

He wanted them to be happy, and he understood their decision. Matteo was a rather possessive man himself when in a relationship. He never shared and would cut off the hand of any man who dared to touch what was his. And when dating Matteo, you became his.

Watching Jared and Isaac together, he thought about how close they both came to losing each other. Another stark reminder that life was too short.

“Is everything okay?” Chase asked in the same worried tone Levi had used just the other night.

Matteo smiled. “Yes, everything is okay. Just got a few things on my mind.”

“If you say so,” Chase responded, not seeming convinced in the least. “Just know that Levi and I, and pretty much everyone here atCock Palace, are here if you ever need to talk or just vent. Take your own advice. Speak to someone if you’re struggling.”

Here was a man that Matteo had only met a few short months ago, showing his love and concern.

Matteo patted Chase on the arm. “I can see why Levi fell in love with you.”

8

ARES

Thirty Years Ago

Sitting with his back against the stone wall, Ares gritted his teeth and pushed through the throbbing pain in his fingers. Just a few more hours, then the damn thing would be done.

He could feel a bead of sweat forming just above his brow and figured he had about five seconds before the damn thing dripped from his forehead and landed on the precious wooden box he had been carving for the last two days straight. His fingers were raw, and the calluses he had were beginning to crack open and bleed everywhere. He couldn’t have that. Nobody wanted to buy a hand-crafted wooden box with blood smeared across the surface.

Frustrated, Ares placed the box down next to him and used his hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He watched as the liquid rolled down his hand, clearing a path of dirt along the way.

Dirt.

It was everywhere.

All around him. Sand, dirt, empty plastic bottles. Everyone’s trash. Nobody saw. Nobody cared. This was their life. Living in homes that they had put together themselves.

Those who were good at building made their homes out of stone and clay. Others less knowledgeable used whatever solid scrap metal they could find. And those who were even less fortunate or too elderly to fix their homes lived under boxes or whatever other structure they could find.

Ares and his family lived in a home they had built out of stone and clay. It was a skill that his grandfather, God rest his soul, had taught Ares and his father. It wasn’t much, but it served its purpose. It kept them out of the scorching sun and provided some protection against predators or would-be bandits.

Turning his attention back to the wooden box that sat next to him, he picked it up and tried to imagine what it would look like once it was completed. It would be painted black and white, with geometrical carvings all across the lid. The sides would be painted in such a way as to hide the hidden compartments he had specifically designed for the box. Three of them. Hidden chambers that would protect whatever secrets or gems the owner did not want others finding.

Beautiful.

The secret box would be beautiful and majestic and sell for a lot of money. Well, a lot of money for Ares, anyway.

Picking up his tools once again, he continued carving into the wood ignoring the pain in his hands. The market was in six days, and he still had three more to finish. He could rest when he got this one done and the next one started.

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