Page 35 of A Mistake of Worth
A walk through Regent’s Park, maybe. The weather was supposed to be decent. Then a proper tour of Camden Town, the actual Camden Town, not his posh neighborhood that he’d tried to pass off as close enough. Henri would probably give him grief about it again, and Michael found himself smiling at the thought.
Nothing stressful. Nothing that required Henri to perform or pretend or be anything other than himself.
Michael’s jaw clenched as he looked down at Henri’s sleeping form, peaceful in a way he probably rarely was. Gabriel needed to know everything Henri had revealed, and together, theycould figure out how to get Henri away from Marc’s control permanently.
But first, he needed to get Henri through tomorrow’s meetings.
Michael pressed a gentle kiss to Henri’s temple and settled in to let him sleep, the movie continuing to play forgotten in the background. No one was going to hurt him again.
Chapter seven
Henri
Henristaredathisbanana pancakes, the scent of cinnamon and browned butter drifting up from the plate. They were perfect, golden and fluffy, but each bite turned to paste in his mouth. His phone sat dark and silent beside his plate, screen face down, but the messages from last night played on a loop behind his eyes.
Don’t forget the toy tomorrow, mon petit. I expect you to wear it all day.
Acknowledge my message.
Your silence will be punished appropriately.
He could still feel the pressure of the toy in his hand, the slick chill of the lube, the silent panic curling around his ribs as he stared at it the night before, willing it to vanish.
Michael sat beside him at the breakfast island, furiously typing on his laptop, a mug of coffee forgotten at his elbow. “Bloody hell, Rhys,” he muttered, jabbing at the keyboard. “How does he do GIS work on a thirteen-inch display? This is useless.”
A smile tugged at Henri’s mouth despite everything. He watched Michael over the rim of his mug, something warm blooming in his chest. The messy hair, the mismatched flannel pajama pants, the absolute exasperation in his voice. It should have felt jarring in a sleek townhouse, but instead it made Henri feel safe. The moment could stretch out, normal and real.
But then his gaze drifted to the phone beside his plate. And to the toy upstairs in his bag.
He could just take it. Slip it into his pocket while Michael was distracted with his work. Get it in before the meeting. Marc would never know he hadn’t worn it the entire morning.
Except he would. Marc always knew.
Henri’s stomach turned. It would be easier to obey. To give in now, avoid the anger later.
Michael’s voice cut into his thoughts, gentle but firm. “What are you thinking about so hard?”
Henri jumped, his coffee sloshing dangerously in the mug. “Sorry, I—”
“Don’t apologize.” Michael’s eyes flicked up from the screen, concerned. “Tell me.”
Something in that voice made Henri shiver. Not because it was cold, but because it was steady. Certain.
“I was... I was thinking about taking the toy with me anyway,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Michael’s fingers stilled on the keyboard. He set his coffee down slowly, then turned fully in his seat to face Henri. Hisfrown was slight, but it deepened the lines at the corner of his mouth.
“You’re not taking it,” he said.
Henri looked down at his coffee, fingers tightening around the mug.
“I haven’t...” Henri’s voice cracked, shame knotting low in his stomach. “I haven’t purposefully disobeyed him since I was seventeen.”
Michael’s expression tightened for a moment before he schooled it. “Tell me what happened.”
“I’d been invited to this café in the Fourth Cat. Some classmates were going, casual, just coffee. Marc said no, but I went anyway. He was supposed to be out of town, meeting clients with his father.” Henri’s gaze dropped to the steam curling from his coffee. “But he found out.”
Another pause. “He was furious. I missed three months of polo that season.”
