Page 19 of Angels of the Night

CHAPTER 14

“Good morning, Boss! I hope you slept well.” Lance Hansen stepped into the kitchen, heading straight to the coffee maker. “Do you want a refill? You'll need it once the pesky little thing wakes up and barges in here, flaunting his nakedness before you.”

“You can pour me a cup, but that doesn't necessarily mean I approve of your thinking on Riley. He is a very intelligent, lively, well-mannered, highly educated kid. And, above all, he trusts me like no one else before, don't you think?” Fabian raised his head from the newspaper he was reading, giving his chauffeur a piercing stare.

“I don't know about that, Boss. It seems to me he's parading his naked body around with the intention of provoking you, and, to be honest, this worries me.” Lance paused for a while, then continued. “I trust you, and I know you can hold back, but sometimes, even the strongest of men give into temptation.”

“Not this man, and not with that boy, but, if you’re that worried, I have the perfect plan to make Rowan keep his clothes on. More, he will turn to us for advice on how to dress according to certain occasions. Anyway, until then, the bets are open. What do you think he will wear for breakfast?” Fabian winked in Lance's direction, but the man didn't see him, busy scrolling through his messages as he was.

“I have no idea.” The chauffeur fell silent after the abrupt answer, staring at the phone's screen. “Sorry, I got distracted. I came across a message from my son, and I'm trying to figure some things out.” The man's voice was laced with worry, his body tense.

“Your son? I don't remember you bringing him into the conversation before. Is it so bad that he messaged you? I wish I were you. Martin-Cornelius hasn’t called or sent me a message in more than a year, not than I don't deserve his lack of attention.” Fabian's voice had a tinge of sadness in it that didn't pass unnoticed by Lance, his heart breaking for the man.

“Last time my son messaged me was three years ago. He wrote that he didn't want to die. After seven hours of frantic searching, I found him in an alley, barely breathing but hanging in there. It took me two years to get him back on his feet, but the effort paid off. Or so I thought, until I saw this message, which was sent two days ago, and now I can't stop worrying about him.” Lance's voice broke, and he covered his face with both hands.

Fabian looked at his employee, not sure how to react to the man's pain. The image of his uncle Alastair rubbing circles on his back came vividly into his mind and, extending one hand, he tentatively touched the chauffeur. Taking Lance's lack of reaction as an encouragement, Fabian continued, feeling how the tension was gradually leaving the man's body.

He smiled, hearing the small sigh of contentment come from the chauffeur, who found comfort in the soft, circular touches, and, at the same time, felt guilty for not getting closer to the man, for not trying to find out more about him. Judging by the way he broke down, the son he never mentioned must have been very special to Lance, who was usually so calm and composed.

Suddenly, Fabian felt the urge to take the other man in his arms and cradle him back and forth, another reminiscence from his distant childhood, but in the end he resisted the impulse. Much to his relief, Rowan stepped into the kitchen, wearing nothing but a white t-shirt, which wasn't long enough to cover his private parts. Apparently, the teen's arrival brought Lance back to his usual self, the man rolling his eyes at the kid's choice of outfit.

“Good morning, Your Grumpiness, and hello, Daddy.” The boy sat in Fabian's lap, grinning.

“You can't do that, especially when you look like that. Get in your room and put some underwear and pants on you.” The man spoke sternly, eyeing Rowan's private parts.

“Oh, come on, Daddy. You are not fun this morning! The poor things are stuffed in those fabric cages day in and day out, don't you think they could use some fresh air, once in a while?” The boy's grin grew wider, but he left Fabian's lap, moving onto one of the kitchen chairs.

“Go and get dressed. You'll catch a cold. I'll fix you some breakfast. You need warm food in that tiny belly of yours.” Lance studied Rowan with a critical eye. “You should put more meat on those bones, kid. You barely ate over the past few days.”

“I ate, but I also worked a lot, and I guess my body used all the energy the food gave it. We'll continue the discussion once I get dressed, otherwise Daddy will get mad at me.” Rowan winked, stepping outside of the kitchen.

“You are worrying for nothing. The boy eats as much as before, but with all the hours he spends researching, taking notes and conducting experiments, it's no wonder the kid has lost some weight.” Fabian's voice was calm, but Lance's words made him worry, and he decided to talk to the teenager once the guest he was expecting had gone back home to Chicago.

“I'm back, and I want my food.” Rowan was wearing a pair of indigo jeans and a long sleeved shirt, and he smiled shyly when Fabian nodded in approval. “Mmm, that smells so good. I bet it tastes divine. No one cooks eggs and bacon like you do.” He turned to Lance, giving him a gratitude-filled look.

“A boy about your age, very dear to my heart, is visiting his family in the city, and I thought of inviting him here. You could use a break and some company.” Fabian's voice was flat, like he didn't give so much importance to the event.

“That's great! Well, I hope he's not a chatterbox, bragging about how many points he scored with the girls or on football field. I find this type totally boring, a pain to deal with. But hey, it's your home. I can very well hit the road if I don't accept your decisions.” Rowan fell silent, focusing on the food.

“Riley—that's his name—likes to read, spends a lot of time in the library, and when he talks, the subject of discussion is most likely a book. Oh, and he manifests a great interest in molecular biology.” Fabian tried to keep his voice as flat as before, but the smile on the the corner of his mouth gave up his affection for Riley.

“Molecular biology? That's fantastic. I got a little stuck on this part. A second expert opinion would be of great help.”

The boy's eyes were shining as he started to tell the two men about the progresses he made in finding a solution to limit the spreading of the virus his detested stepbrother Phillip had created. According to Rowan, once the molecular biology part was fixed, the treatment was ready for the final stage: testing.

At that point, the boy fell silent, eyes suddenly clouded with sadness as he realized none of the pharmaceutical companies or medical research centers would take him seriously. There was, of course, the Van der Meerwe Institute for Human Genome Research, but, with no important name in the scientific community to back him up, having access there was as impossible as using a ladder to get to the stars.

A heavy silence took over the kitchen, but it didn't last very long as the arrival of a black SUV got the attention of the two men, wide smiles spreading on their faces at the sight of the black-haired teen boy who stepped out of it, heading straight to the house. Fabian and Lance went to greet him, leaving Rowan alone with his thoughts.

After exchanging warm hugs, the three of them went back into the kitchen, where the long-haired, blond boy had cleaned the table and started doing the dishes. One look into his melancholic, ocean-blue eyes was enough for Riley to feel his heart flutter and become weak in the knees. The proverbial butterflies in his stomach started to affect him, too, making his heart beat faster.

“Hi, I'm Riley, you must be Rowan, the young, brilliant scientist Mister Bloom keeps talking about. I'm very happy to finally meet you in person.” The boy extended his hand, making the other one get lost in his sapphire-blue eyes. “Oh, and I love your shirt, the colour looks great on you.”

“Do you think so? I mean, I'm thrilled to meet you. Mister Bloom exaggerates. I'm not the scientist he describes me, just a regular kid with a passion for genetics. You have magnificent eyes, the most beautiful I've ever seen. I could spend an eternity just looking into them.” Rowan blushed a delicate shade of pink and lowered his head in embarrassment.

“Thank you for the compliment; it's so sweet of you. My friends here in New York say I have the Bloom family's eyes, but I think it's just a coincidence. One of my adoptive fathers Drake has turquoise eyes and so do his three younger brothers.” Riley smiled, turning to Fabian. “Uncle Ardan renovated the Starlight casino, and he's throwing a reopening party tomorrow evening. He said I can invite you if I want.”

Fabian was getting ready to answer when his phone beeped, signaling an incoming message from Greenwood, who announced he was on his way to the mansion. “Why don't you boys go to the library and continue your conversation there? I'm sure you have a lot of things in common.” The man smiled benevolently, heading to his office.

Fifteen minutes later, Greenwood barged in without knocking and plopped down on a chair with a total lack of grace, making Fabian grimace. “Sorry for disturbing you again, partner, but I need a huge favor from you.” The man looked around, then turned to his host. “I can’t see that small-assed, deliciously fuckable twink, or are you keeping for yourself? He must have a very tight hole and...”

“That kid has a name, Rowan, and you are going to use it from now on when you are talking about him. I won't tolerate any disrespectful words coming from your filthy mouth, and if you even breathe in the wrong direction, I'll make you curse the day you were born. Do I make myself clear?” Lance spoke in a low, almost whispered, but ice-cold voice, giving Greenwood a stare that made his blood freeze.

“I won't keep you very long. I only need to ask you something very important. Of course, I understand if you say no.” The undesirable guest spoke again, after some good minutes of silence, his voice somehow desperate.

“Let's hear it but make it as short as you can. I don't have time to waste on your lack of manners and disrespectful attitude.” Fabian's voice was harsh, his sapphire-blue eyes threateningly narrowed.

“That MacNamara fellow is throwing a grand reopening party at Starlight, the greatest, most exquisite of the many casinos he owns, and I wondered if you can get me an invitation for two people.”

The other one is Phillip, Fabian thought, a triumphant smile creeping on his face. Without knowing it, that bastard had provided a solution for Rowan's problem with the lack of accredited lab tests to support his theory. “Consider it done. Now go.”

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