The morning of the Royal Meeting felt less like a celebration and more like an execution. The mansion was suffocating with tension.
Jay stood in front of his mirror, staring at the stranger looking back at him. Gone were the oversized hoodies, the branded jackets, and the glitter. Leo had hired a stylist, and the result was... boring.
He was wearing a high-collared, cream-colored suit that cost more than a Honda Civic. It was tailored to perfection, but it swallowed his personality whole. It made him look fragile. Innocent. Submissive.
"You look like a Victorian ghost," Jay muttered to his reflection. "It's giving 'Victorian child dying of consumption.' Which, I guess, is accurate."
The door flew open, and Leo marched in. He was already sweating through his dress shirt, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. He looked like a man holding a crumbling dam together with duct tape.
"Are you ready?" Leo barked, checking his watch. "The cars are five minutes out."
"I look like a marshmallow," Jay complained, turning around. "Leo, this collar is choking me. Can I at least unbutton the top?"
"No," Leo snapped, walking over and actually buttoning it tighter. He grabbed Jay by the shoulders, his grip hard. He wasn't being mean; he was terrified.
"Listen to me, Jay. And listen good. Today is not the day for your jokes. This is the Royal Family. This is the King. And this is Prince Kael."
Leo stared into Jay's eyes, his voice shaking slightly. "Kael Blackwood isn't a frat boy you can manipulate. He is a predator. If you open your mouth and say something smart-ass, he won't just reject you—he could destroy us. He could pull the funding before lunch."
Jay saw the fear in his brother's eyes. Since their dad died, Leo had aged ten years in a month. He was carrying the weight of the entire legacy on his back.
Jay softened. He respected Leo. Leo was the only reason the house hadn't been foreclosed on yet.
"Okay," Jay said quietly. "I get it."
"Do you?" Leo pressed. "I want you to be a statue. You speak only when the King asks you a direct question. You don't look at Kael unless he looks at you. You smile, you nod, and you look pretty. That's it. Can you do that?"
"I'll be the best mute trophy wife you've ever seen," Jay promised. "Zip. Nada. NPC mode activated."
Eleanor walked in then, wringing her hands. She fixed Jay's hair, smoothing down a stray curl. "You look beautiful, darling. Just... try not to look so pale. Pinch your cheeks a little."
"Mom, I'm literally heart-failing," Jay deadpanned, but he pinched his cheeks anyway until they were pink. "Better?"
"Perfect," she whispered, looking like she might throw up.
From the driveway below, the sound of heavy engines purred. Not normal cars. Royal cars.
They looked out the window. Three sleek, pitch-black armored limousines were rolling up the driveway like hearses. They bore the Royal Crest—the Black Wing insignia. They looked aggressive, menacing, and expensive as hell.
"They're here," Leo exhaled, straightening his tie. He looked at Jay one last time.
"Remember. Silence. Survival. Business."
"Got it, Dad-lite," Jay saluted, though he kept the sarcasm to a minimum.
They walked downstairs. The servants were lined up, heads bowed. The atmosphere was heavy.
As Jay stepped out of the front door, a chauffeur in a black uniform opened the back door of the middle limo. The interior was dark, smelling of leather and intimidation.
Jay took a breath, feeling his heart do a weird, fluttery skip in his chest—a reminder of the time bomb ticking away inside.
Showtime, he thought, stepping into the darkness of the car. Time to go meet the Monster.
-----
The master bedroom of the penthouse was pitch black, the heavy blackout curtains sealing out the world. The air was thick with the scent of sex, sweat, and the lingering acrid smell of burnt skin.
Kael woke up like he did everything else: instantly and aggressively.
He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face, feeling the headache pulsing behind his eyes. He shifted, and the body next to him stirred.
Lin was draped over the expensive silk sheets like a broken doll. He was a mess. His neck was a canvas of purple finger marks, his wrists were raw from the cuffs, and on his inner thighs, there were three distinct, angry red cigarette burns.
Kael looked at the damage with zero emotion. It was just evidence of a Tuesday night.
Lin's eyes fluttered open. He smiled, a sleepy, drugged-out look of adoration on his face. He reached out, his hand creeping toward Kael's chest, trying to snuggle.
"Morning," Lin purred, his voice raspy from screaming the night before. "Did you sleep well? You were... intense last night. My legs still sting. I love it."
Kael caught Lin's wrist before it touched him and flung it back onto the mattress.
"Don't," Kael snapped, his voice rough. "You know the rules. No touching in the morning. No cuddling. No 'feelings' talk. It makes me nauseous."
Lin flinched but didn't pull away. He thrived on the rejection. "You're always so grumpy when you wake up. Do you want me to—"
"I want you to shut up," Kael said, sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed. He was naked, his back covered in scratches Lin had left there in the heat of the moment.
Kael reached for his phone on the nightstand. He just wanted coffee and silence. Instead, he saw ten missed calls and a text message from the King's Royal Secretary that made his blood boil.
URGENT: Royal Meeting with the Consort's Family. Throne Room. 10:00 AM. Attendance Mandatory.
Kael checked the time. 09:05 AM.
"Fuck!" Kael roared, throwing the phone across the room onto the pile of discarded clothes.
Lin sat up, wincing as the movement pulled at his burns. "What? What's wrong?"
"The old man," Kael snarled, storming toward the bathroom. "He set up a meeting with the boy's family today. Nobody told me. I have less than an hour to get to the main palace."
He turned on the shower, the water hitting the steam glass with a hiss. He was furious. Not because he was nervous—he didn't get nervous—but because he hated being summoned like a dog.
Lin crawled to the edge of the bed, wrapping the sheet around his waist, his face twisting into an ugly scowl.
"You're going to see him?" Lin whined, his voice dripping with venom. "Now? You're leaving me here, looking like this, to go meet that... that intruder?"
Kael stepped into the shower, not bothering to close the door. "It's business, Lin. Stop being dramatic."
"It's not fair!" Lin shouted, standing up, ignoring the pain in his legs. "Look at me, Kael! Look what you did to me! I let you burn me! I let you choke me! I belong to you! And you're running off to play husband to some stranger?"
Kael turned off the water abruptly. He stepped out, dripping wet, and walked right up to Lin. He towered over him, water dripping from his hair onto Lin's face.
"You let me do those things because you're a sick little masochist who needs the attention," Kael said coldly, grabbing Lin's face. "Don't confuse your kinks with my priorities."
"But—"
"One more word, and I'll have security drag you out naked," Kael threatened, his eyes dead. "I have to go play the 'Good Prince.' Get out of my way. And clean this mess up. The room smells like desperation."
Kael shoved past him, grabbing a towel. He was already mentally clocking in. He had fifty minutes to turn from a sadistic monster into a charming predator.
Lin stood there, shivering, tears of rage in his eyes as he watched Kael dress. "I hate him," Lin whispered to the empty room. "I hate him and I haven't even met him."
Kael didn't hear him. He was already tying his tie, his mind focused on one thing: getting over with this meeting quickly so he could get back to his work.