Page 40 of A Mistake of Worth
Buzz.
He picked up his water glass and tried to hide the tremor in his hand.
“I apologize,” Henri said, standing so smoothly it surprised even him. “I’m not feeling well. Must have been something I ate earlier.”
Concern flickered across the EcoSphere CEO’s face. “I hope it wasn’t the oysters. You barely touched them.”
“I’ll be fine,” Henri lied. He nodded toward the remaining VPs, offering a professional smile he could feel cracking at the corners. “Thank you for lunch. I’ll have my office send over the updated integration timeline this afternoon.”
Buzz.
Buzz.
Buzz.
The messages followed him out of the restaurant. Outside, Henri stumbled slightly as he leaned against the building’s cool stone exterior, fumbling with the app on his phone.
You’re making this worse for yourself.
Did you think distance would give you courage?
Answer me, Henri.
He flinched as he pressed the car service icon. The sedan was only four minutes away.
Four more minutes of not knowing what message would come next. Of waiting to see if Marc would escalate again.
Another notification.
I thought I taught you better than this.
Henri’s heart jack-hammered behind his ribs. He declined the call with numb fingers and finally managed to text Michael:
Coming back. Please be there.
The town car pulled up just as Marc’s ringtone blared again. Henri launched into the backseat. He didn’t breathe until the door clicked shut behind him.
You’ll regret ignoring me.
Did you forget who you belong to?
The words etched themselves into his chest. Deeper than any whip Marc had ever used, because these were the ones that stuck. The ones that told him he was wrong. Not just in this moment, but inherently. Always.
What had he been thinking? That he could wear Michael’s shirt and walk through the day as though he belonged to himself?
That he could just stop obeying?
The confidence from that morning, his successful presentation, the warmth in Michael’s texts, and the sensation of silk against his skin felt hollow now. He wasn’t strong. He wasn’t free. He was stupid.
Reckless.
He’d failed. And failure had a cost.
Another message.
Another.
Henri buried his face in his hands. They wouldn’t stop shaking.
