Chapter 6

Ren stood frozen by the entrance, lips tingling from the kiss. The heavy doors of the mansion shut behind Ciro, locking in tension that still lingered between them.

He kissed me…

Ren wiped his lips with the back of his hand. They still felt hot. Tender. Like Ciro had just placed a fire on it, it still irked him that he kissed Ciro.

And yet, why didn’t I push him harder?

He looked down at his hand, the one that had barely pressed against Ciro’s chest. His breath hitched. He should’ve slapped him. He should’ve screamed. But instead, he’d just stood there. Stunned. Letting it happen.

He wasn’t sure what scared him more—that Ciro had done it.

Or that… some part of him hadn’t hated it.

Upstairs, Ren flung the door open to his room and shut it again, leaning back against it. The silence of the room was loud; his fingers hovered over his lips again before he shook himself and let out a low, frustrated sigh.

“What the hell am I doing here?” He sighed, sounding frustrated. “I need to call him, no.”

He went straight for his phone. But when he opened it, his thumb paused over Liam’s name in his contacts.

What would I even say? He thought.

Should he say that he got kissed by a mafia boss and froze? That he’s slowly being styled and displayed like some high-class whore?

He tossed the phone onto the bed and sank down beside it. His heart was still thumping, but not with fear that Ciro might do something worse; he was filled with curiosity.

He thought about it falling asleep.

---

The next morning came with sunlight slipping through the curtains and a light knock on his room door.

“Come in,” Ren mumbled, still asleep; his hair looked like a bird’s nest.

The same woman from before peeked her head in. “I’ve brought breakfast. The young master left early, but he asked me to check on you.”

He rubbed his sleepy eyes. “Thanks,” he murmured. He hadn’t expected Ciro to leave so early, not after the kiss he gave him last night.

“He said you can use the pool today or go for a walk in the garden,” she added softly. “And if you want anything, just say it. You can get anything you want, the young master ordered.”

“Right,” Ren replied. “Everything.”

The woman looked like she wanted to say something else but only bowed slightly and left.

Ren stared at the untouched food. A walk sounded good. Maybe he can visit Liam.

But what if Ciro comes back without meeting him at home? He quickly dismissed the thought.

Maybe just a walk, anything that can clear his head for a bit.

---

The garden was huge; he had asked a servant for the garden because he couldn't find it.

It has marble statues and hedges and a pool so clean it sparkled like a mirror. The place looked so heavenly; it felt like walking through someone else’s dream.

If someone were to see Ciro, they wouldn't know he has such a peaceful place in his house.

Ren sat on a stone bench, staring at the water. His reflection wobbled with every ripple.

Why did I do this? He asked himself.

Why do I let Kant bring me here to him?

It was for Liam and me, right? He thought.

There were prettier boys, boys who knew how to play these games, boys who liked being owned, who craved attention all for money, not because of their free will, but here he is regretting his decisions.

He pushed the thought aside; he looked at himself. He was wearing designer clothes and being fed and taken care of, but getting kissed without warning was what icked him the most.

Like he was some whore, they could kiss just because he was going to be paid.

Honestly, there is no difference, or there is a slight difference.

Whores do it with pride; they don't get ashamed of what feeds them, but here he was getting mad at just a little kiss.

He had the right to be mad; after all, he had been raped before, and anytime he thought about it, he felt dirty. He should be grateful Ciro kissed him.

His fists clenched as he thought about it.

No, I'm not a prostitute. That’s not me, and that’s not who I am.

---

Later that evening, there was another knock at his door. “My goodness, what is it this time?”

He opened the door to find Ciro standing there; he was surprised for a second but masked his surprise.

Ciro was putting on a dark shirt, sleeves rolled up, no tie; it was just buttoned halfway up. He looked relaxed and maybe dangerous.

Ren’s breath hitched. His mind flashed back to the kiss, the way he had forgotten to push him back.

“You look free right now,” Ciro said. “Come have dinner with me.”

“…Dinner?” Ren frowned.

“Not outside, just here, I won't take you out...” Ciro didn’t elaborate. He turned and walked down the hallway without looking back.

Ren stared at the space he’d left behind.

Dinner?

After kissing me last night?.

---

The dining room was quiet; there was just one long table and just the two of them sitting quietly.

Ren sat stiffly as Ciro poured wine into his glass, then into his own.

“You don’t have to act so tense,” Ciro said, sitting across from him. “You signed the contract, and the tense wasn't included in the list.”

Ren looked up sharply. “I signed to be your fake boyfriend. Not your...your...”

“Whore?” Ciro said coolly, sipping his wine, and he smirked, noticing Ren's expression.

Ren nearly choked. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“You looked like you enjoyed the kiss last night.”

Ren’s cheeks burnt. “I—I didn’t...!”

Ciro leaned forward. “Oh, you didn't? But you didn’t pull away.” Ciro leaned in closer. “But you should know that no one denies me.”