Page 83 of A Mistake of Worth
In the neighborhood. On a Friday evening.
Gabriel had never been subtle when he set his mind to something.
David shifted beside Henri. His shoulders tensed, confusion clear in his posture. He didn’t recognize Gabriel. Henri could tell from the way David’s eyes moved between them, trying to parse the undercurrents he couldn’t name. David had likely only seen La Sauvegarde’s CEO in company newsletters, and apparently, corporate headshots didn’t translate to real-world recognition.
“I think Henri should come with me,” Gabriel said.
Marc’s response was immediate. His arm slipped around David’s waist, drawing the boy against his side. The gesture looked protective, almost loving. Anyone watching might see simple care for a younger companion.
Henri read the real message: You know what happens if you walk out with Gabriel.
Marc smiled. “And leave our friend here alone? That would hardly be hospitable.”
David went rigid under Marc’s touch. His eyes found Henri’s, questions written across his face, but Henri couldn’t answer them. Not here. Not with Gabriel watching and Marc’s arm around David.
Gabriel’s jaw set. His eyes held Henri’s, steady and furious. Henri watched his brother’s mind work, calculating angles, searching for leverage. Gabriel’s hand flexed at his side, the only outward sign of his frustration.
“Henri.” Gabriel’s voice was calm, but Henri heard the plea underneath. “You don’t have to go upstairs. You can walk out with me right now.”
Marc’s fingers tightened infinitesimally on David’s hip. The boy flinched, barely noticeable, but Henri saw it.
So did Gabriel. His eyes narrowed.
“It’s late,” Marc said, still pleasant. “Henri’s tired from traveling. Aren’t you, darling?”
The endearment was a collar.
Henri forced his voice to sound normal, casual. “I’d prefer to stay with Marc tonight. It’s been a long trip.”
He made the words sound convincing. Made them sound like a choice instead of capitulation.
Gabriel’s expression didn’t change, but Henri saw the flash of understanding and disappointment. His brother’s shoulders dropped, just slightly. The defeat in that small movement cut deeper than any argument could have.
“Of course,” Gabriel said finally. His gaze held Henri’s for another long moment, then shifted deliberately to David. Taking in the boy’s youth, his fear, the possessive curl of Marc’s arm around his waist.
Gabriel’s eyes hardened.
“You know you’re always welcome at my home, Henri.” The emphasis was clear. “Any time. Day or night. Just say the word.”
Marc’s smile didn’t waver. “How generous of you.” He guided David toward the private elevator with practiced ease, his hand never leaving the boy’s waist. “Henri, come along.”
Henri fell into step behind them. The position was automatic, muscle memory taking over.
“Good evening, Gabriel,” Marc said without looking back.
Henri glanced over his shoulder as they reached the elevator. Gabriel was watching them, his jaw tight, hands curled into fists at his sides. Their eyes met one last time.
I’m sorry, Henri tried to say with his expression.I can’t.
Gabriel gave the smallest shake of his head.
The private elevator doors closed, cutting off Gabriel’s face and reflecting Henri’s own back at him in the polished steel. Pale, hollow-eyed, nothing like the man who’d laughed over pasta bowls just days ago.
For a moment, standing there in the elevator’s golden light, Henri wished desperately that he could have said yes. Could have walked away with Gabriel, left David to figure out his own survival, chosen his own freedom over someone else’s desperate need.
But he couldn’t.
And Gabriel’s expression said he understood exactly why.
