Page 17 of Maddox

“But, interestingly enough, his place is sold. The whole estate, and a development company. No prizes for guessing the company is Oak Developments.”

“You think he’s likely to stay in Hong Kong?” Dion asked us.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Do we know why he’s there?”

“Nothing yet,” Eric said, “but I’ll let you know.”

“If he’s intending on setting up elsewhere, we need to warn someone.”

Gideon nodded. “Do you remember Gerard Auclaire? We met him on that joint training gig in Belgium when we were on rotation.” We all nodded. Good guy. “He left and moved to Hong Kong to be with his wife and her family. Pretty sure he works for the cops now, some sort of weapons trainer. I have his email, and I can give him a heads up that he can forward to the right people.” I heaved a sigh of relief.

“Anything on Jonathan Rice?” I asked.

A grunt left Gideon’s throat at his name. Rice was a piece of shit that we were sure was involved in human trafficking. The owner of Oak Developments, he was in bed with Blakeny and had kidnapped Abby three months ago. But again, this stupid fucking video of my face was tying our hands. “If it wasn’t for Clare, I’d just say to hell with it and let them publish it. We could swing it as photoshopped easily enough.” But I couldn’t do that to her. Her brother was a media mogul and the press attention on Clare and her lifestyle would be brutal. So brutal, I was scared she wouldn’t survive it.

Dion sent me a sympathetic look. They all felt the same.

“He’s back on the west coast,” Eric reported. “I’m keeping tabs on him as well.”

"We need to find a way to neutralize that video," Gideon said, frustration clear in his voice. "It's tying our hands."

I nodded in agreement. "I know. But we can't risk it getting out and hurting Clare. She's been through enough already."

"Maybe we could find a way to discredit it?" Walker suggested. "Make it look like it was doctored or something? AI is a thing now."

"It would still involve her," I said, "and I can’t risk that."

"Let me investigate," Eric replied.

As the meeting wrapped up, my mind drifted to Clare and our upcoming session on Saturday. Part of me was thrilled at the prospect of helping her explore her Little side again, of providing the care and protection she deserved. But another part of me was anxious. What if I pushed too far? What if she panicked?

"You okay?" Dion asked quietly as the others filed out.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Just thinking about Clare. We're going to try a short session this weekend."

Dion's eyebrows rose. "Really? That's a big step."

"I know," I said. "I'm excited but nervous. I don't want to mess this up."

"You won't," Dion said confidently. "Just take it slow, follow her lead. You've got good instincts, Max."

I headed home and thought some more about tomorrow. I’d been serious about not wanting to scare Clare and come on too strong, but I was a Daddy, and Dion was right when he said if I didn’t let Clare see the real me, our relationship would be over before it started.

I walked into my house and disarmed the security, then really looked at everything. My house was large, expensive, but it was plain and not because I especially liked plain, but because I hadn’t had any interest in making it a home. I didn’t want Clare to come tomorrow and feel like she was coming to a hotel. I needed a house worthy of her, and something her Little would approve of, and I had less than twenty-four hours to make it happen.

I needed to start with the empty room I’d always imagined would be a playroom for my Little girl.

CLARE

Saturday morning arrived, and I woke with a mix of excitement and anxiety churning in my stomach. Today was the day of my first "Little" session with Maddox. Part of me still couldn't believe I'd agreed to this, but a larger part was desperate to reclaim that side of myself.

I showered and dressed carefully, choosing comfortable clothes that weren't too childish, because one of the first things I’d done when I came back to my apartment was throw all my Little clothes away. As I was about to leave, my eyes fell on Mr. Snuggles, my old teddy bear, sitting on a shelf. Before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed him and tucked him into my bag.

Then I remembered something else, and my legs seemed to work of their own accord to carry me to the pantry and the far corner where an old tin sat.

Did I dare?

There was only one thing in it. Something I hadn’t been able to throw away, and I lifted the lid and stared at my popsie. In my head I’d thrown everything away. But this I hadn’t been able to part with even though it had sat here abandoned for months. I fingered the plastic half. It would need a lot of washing before I put the teat in my mouth, but somehow without meaning to I slipped it in my pocket.

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