Episode 11

Malik

Okay, that was definitely the craziest night of my entire life. First, I had a super cute moment with Dimitri, followed by a total meltdown from him. Then he brought me to this horror show that was supposed to be our dinner. I was offended and insulted by my father-in-law and a bunch of other old people who were giving me dirty looks until one of them crossed the line. As if I were in an action movie, Dimitri simply shot the old man in the head. I was paralyzed with fear, unable to take my eyes off that scene, that dead man, and the blood spreading across the dinner table. I don't think I'll ever be able to eat there again.

As if that wasn't enough, he hugged me and kissed me. I thought I wouldn't like it, that I would be scared, but as soon as I felt his lips on mine, the world stopped for me.

His mouth tasted like whiskey. His hands squeezing my waist went perfectly with that kiss. His tongue was all over my mouth, dominating me so easily that it made me wonder if all those sensations were real or just my abstinence speaking louder.

When he let me go, it was as if I was violently pulled back to earth. I looked around, and there was no one else there.

"Ivan, have this mess cleaned up, and meet me in my office in ten minutes. We need to put the damage control plan into action."

He looked at me so naturally while I was still in orbit from that kiss.

"Come on, I'll take you to your room."

He didn't give me much of a choice. He took my hand and walked me down the halls.

By the time we reached my bedroom door, I had regained my voice. I wanted to say something, to ask him what that kiss was, but the last time I talked to him, I said exactly what I shouldn't have. Now I don't know if I should open my mouth.

"Well, that was quite a show, wasn't it?"

I guess that answers my question. It was all an act, but I can't complain. I knew from the beginning that this was what he wanted, to piss off all those people. I could have been fake, hiding my feelings and playing that old game of pretending everything's okay. But that's not who I am; I don't know how to pretend, and I don't want to. I feel sad and used, but I'm not going to be childish and cry in front of him. I just opened the door and walked in, leaving him standing there unanswered.

I entered my room and let it all out: the fear I felt in that room, the words of those people, their hatred, prejudice, and racism. They hate me just for being who I am.

Standing there listening to all that was humiliating. Sure, Dimitri stood up for me, but I'd really rather not have gone through any of that. I cried at the frustration of knowing that I'd enjoyed and felt a kiss that meant nothing to him. It was just acting; it meant nothing to him. For a minute, I had the illusion that we could have something real. Stupid me.

Dimitri

This is the second time today I've heard Malik crying, and I don't like it one bit. His eyes before he entered the room were so sad. I can't get them out of my head. Did I go too far?

And that kiss? Why was it so good? Malik shouldn't let me do that to him. It doesn't feel right the way he lets me dominate his body with just a kiss. The way he gets so submissive drives me crazy. Damn it, it was just a kiss.

He's so different. Alexandra was dominant, always taking the initiative; she was fierce. Not Malik. He's delicate, gentle, and sometimes even innocent. But that, that submission, has much more power over me than I'd like to admit.

I was in my office, sitting at my desk, with so many problems to solve, but for the first time in many years, I didn't feel like working.

Ivan arrived with the men who handle house security, including Tiago, Malik's bodyguard.

When everyone was in place to receive instructions, Ivan's phone rang; one of those everyday calls. It was rare for him to receive any in my presence, but I had already heard through the halls of the mansion that he had a mysterious secret lover.

As soon as he saw who it was on the screen, he blushed. His eyes lit up, and I noticed Tiago's reaction. He looked sad. I've noticed for a while now that the boy always looks at Ivan with love when he thinks no one is watching. Ivan, obsessed with this mystery man, doesn't even notice the boy.

When I finished giving all the instructions, everyone headed to their posts, and I thought it was time to speak frankly with Ivan.

"Ivan, you do realize the boy is in love with you, don't you?"

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"The boy, Tiago, Antonio's son. He's in love with you."

"Sir, I don't think that's possible. He's a child."

"Oh, come on, Ivan. He's twenty-six years old, not a child anymore for quite some time."

"Even so, he's almost twice my age. What would he want with an old man like me?"

"Well, a forty-eight-year-old man who has a secret lover. Are you ever going to tell me who he is?"

"It's not my secret alone to tell, sir. I'm sorry."

"Alright. And what about the boy?"

"He's young. He'll soon fall in love with someone else for real. You'll see."

Outside, Tiago couldn't and didn't even try to hold back the tear on his face; a single, solitary tear, just like him: