Page 78 of The Gambler's Prize
“I guess. My father hates me, but he still gave me an allowance because it was expected. He couldn’t have people see his son short of money, you know?”
“I know.” I’ve worked with enough aristocrats to get it. Appearance is everything.
“And when I ran through the allowance, he even increased it… until eventually he got tired of that and cut me off. When I got wild enough that no one would blame him. When society was sure I was just a black sheep. Then when I got into gambling debt, it never occurred to me to try to get a job. I just ran out on my obligations.”
He sounds so ashamed of himself. I kiss the top of his head, looking angrily at the scars on his torso.
“Florian, I don’t think anyone would blame you for running, considering the kind of people you were dealing with,” I say.
He peeks up at me, so shy. “Lots of people would blame me.”
“Well, direct them to me and I’ll take care of them. The loan sharks too.”
He laughs at my scowl, tracing a finger over my angry lips. “So fierce. I love it. I bet you’d mess them up for me whether I’m in the right or not.”
“Of course, flower. That’s my job now.”
He looks a little alarmed and a little delighted at the idea. “I was joking. It won’t be necessary. They have no idea where I am. Anyway, I don’t deserve such unwavering devotion.”
“Florian, you really like it when I take charge of you?” I demand.
He flushes. “I really do.”
“I’m going to do it again now, if that’s okay.”
“Okay,” he whispers, looking at me with big eyes.
“I’m going to make you repeat something after me. Can you do that?”
He nods.
“Repeat after me, I’m beautiful and kind and clever, and I deserve the world.”
He dips his head, hiding behind a curtain of dark hair. “Boss, no. I can’t say that.”
“Yes, you can. Go on.” I lift his chin, forcing him to look at me. “I’m your boss, remember.”
He stays silent, looking unsure.
“Regretting asking me to dominate you?” I ask with a smile.
“I didn’t realize you’d bully self-esteem into me.”
“Yep. Until you see yourself like I do. Now say it.”
He takes a deep breath, and, adorably, takes both of my hands for support. “Okay. Here goes. I’m… I’m beautiful and I deserve the world.”
“You missed and kind and clever. Start over.”
“Stars, you’re such a dictator.” He rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t tell me to stop being his dictator either. “I’m- I’m beautiful and kind and clever, and I deserve the world.”
“Better,” I say. “Now give me a kiss.”
That’s an order he’s happy to obey. His lips are soft and receptive and perfect. My heart is full as I hold him. If someone had told me a few months ago that I’d be taking on a spoiled, subby aristocrat with daddy issues, I would’ve laughed at them and then run for the hills. Now I can’t imagine ever letting him go. I want to protect him from the world and build up his confidence ounce by ounce until he forgets his father and those loan sharks and anyone else who ever made him feel small.
“I still can’t believe you’re letting me hold you like this,” I say. “After what I did to you. Making you my servant. Extracting all that labor from you.”
He wriggles out of my grip, looking exasperated. “Not this again. I could say the same thing, you know. You’re letting me hold you after I sent you to prison.”
