MasukElliot’s POVThe boardroom felt like a cage.My father sat at the head of the long table like he still owned every chair in it. Anytime he attends the board meeting, he takes up my seat. I feel like it’s his own way of showing he still has power over me. His cold eyes scanned the room before locking on Scott, who stood at the front accounting for everything that happened at the exhibition, the expenses, the sales, the new deals we had. The success was undeniable, record breaking sales, tourist lines outside the gallery, media coverage that had Zenex trending for days.But my father wasn’t impressed. Victoria must have reached out to him. She’s always been manipulative.“Mr. McAllen,” he said, voice smooth and sharp, “your promotion seems remarkably fast. From junior assistant to lead curator in such a short time. Care to explain how that happened?”The room went dead silent. Board members shifted uncomfortably. Nobody dared to say anything. Scott stood tall, but I saw the slight tremb
Scott’s POVThe email from Laurent sat open on my phone like a loaded gun.Full-time position. Paris or London base. Generous salary. Creative freedom. Travel the world with me.I stared at it in the parking garage after work, leaning against my old car, heart racing. This was everything I had dreamed of, to be recognized in the art industry, to make good money so I can clear all my debts, to finally escape the poverty that had chained me for years. No more Raymond. No more selling my body for scraps. No more depending on anyone.But every time I thought about accepting, Elliot’s face flashed in my mind. Those steel-gray eyes. The way he held me after fucking me senseless. The way he defended me publicly even when it was risky. He pushed me away with words, but his actions screamed something else. “ Scott, don’t be an ingrate. You’re supposed to be happy, not sulking.” I muttered trying to encourage myself because this is what I have always wanted.But I can’t deny that a part of me w
Elliot’s POVLaurent’s words wouldn’t leave my head.“I insist on working exclusively with Scott. He has a rare eye. The kind I want on my side for future projects.”I kept walking up and down in my penthouse like a caged animal, with a glass of whiskey in hand, staring at the city lights. The French investor wasn’t just talking business. The way he looked at Scott, the lingering touches, the unnecessary smiles made my blood boil. Was it really just work? Or was there more? The thought of Scott spending hours alone with him made me want to break something.“That fool, he agreed.” I hit my hand on my head, Scott didn’t care about how I’d feel. He just agreed instantly . Was he trying to make me jealous? I gulped the whiskey and poured another. Am I going crazy? One man having this kind of power over me is crazy. But Scott did. He always had.Then I dashed my foot on the wall and that made me have a flashback, like it always happens whenever my fear got too loud. I was sixteen and full
Scott’s POVThe meeting room felt a bit uncomfortable the moment Laurent walked in. Tall, confident, with that lovely French accent and sharp suit that screamed luxury, rich people sure do know how to show off. He smiled at me like I was the only person in the building.“Scott,” he said, voice warm as he shook my hand a second too long. “I’ve been looking forward to this but as a private session. Your vision is… captivating.”I smiled professionally, ignoring the way his eyes lingered on my lips. Someone had clearly told him I was gay. The flirting started subtle, compliments on my “artistic hands,” light touches on my arm when pointing at sketches, low laughs at my jokes. I stayed focused, talking about art in general, my belief, and the exhibition flow, but my cheeks warmed anyway. It felt good to be seen. To be wanted. Not hidden like Elliot kept me.“You mean this was supposed to be a private meeting?” I was surprised. I was too excited to read the memo carefully. “Yeah, I asked
Elliot’s POVThe gossip post exploded and managed to get to the executive platform. Someone called my attention to what was happening.I was in the middle of reviewing a quarterly report when my phone started buzzing nonstop. I opened the notification and my blood turned to ice.Anonymous Office Insider: Lead Curator Scott McAllen: From struggling artist to overnight star. Could this be a Special attention from the CEO? Or just “talent”? The $15k painting says it all. Congrats on the promotion, Scott. Must be nice.Attached were screenshots of the viral magazine article, side-by-side with photos of Scott smiling at the exhibition. Comments flooded in instantly. My dad called me immediately to ask, I don’t know how he does it but he manages to get every information happening in my company.“Hey, son. What is it I’m hearing?” He sounded so serious. “Dad, I’ll handle this.” I hated my dad trying to make decisions for me in my own company. This was one of the reasons why I decided to pu
Scott’s POVThe email dropped into my inbox at 9:15 AM like a lightning bolt.Subject: Promotion Announcement – Scott McAllenI clicked it with shaky hands. The words blurred for a second, then sharpened.Effective immediately, Scott McAllen is promoted to Junior Curator. His leadership on the record-breaking exhibition has been instrumental in driving revenue and elevating Zenex’s profile. Congratulations to a rising talent.My heart slammed against my ribs. Junior Curator. Wow. Elliot didn’t tell me I’ll be promoted. This new growth felt fast. I stared at the screen, with a stupid grin spreading across my face. After everything, the debts, the humiliation with Raymond, the nights I sold my body just to survive, months of endless job hunting, this felt like winning the lottery.The company-promotion announcement went out ten minutes later. Cheers erupted across the open office floor. Some colleagues clapped, some were genuinely happy, others forcing smiles. Jayden ran over and pulle
Scott’s POVThe bank alert dropped on my phone like a slap across my face while I was still in the break room, nursing cold coffee and trying not to wince every time I shifted on the chair. And there it was, another $5,000 deposit. Anonymous again. Same as the last one.My hands shook as I stared a
Scott’s POVMy phone rang while I was still limping from the last client Raymond had sent me to. The soreness between my legs was a constant reminder of how disgusting I felt taking a cock from someone I didn't know or like. I answered with shaking hands, already knowing who it was.“Raymond,” I sa
Elliot’s POVThe bank alert came in exactly at 2:17 AM.Debit: $15,000 – Anonymous Art Acquisition.I stared at the screen lying on the couch at my villa. Imagining the painting already hanging in my private collection room. I had always wanted that painting. The one Scott had poured his soul into
Chapter 21: The PriceScott’s POVMy ass burned with every step as I walked into my apartment, the marks from Elliot’s hands and the suspension rig still fresh on my skin. I could still feel him inside me, thick, relentless, breeding me deep while he whispered “mine” like he meant it for once. My







