Chapter 11

Another day.

Another night to spend with a man who hated him.

The door to Nathan's apartment swung inwards with a crisp click, and he filled the modest space. The lights flicked on, illuminating the apartment with a soft, golden glow.

His shoes came off and he sighed.

It had barely been two days, yet it felt like he hadn't been here in weeks.

His light steps filled the air as he crossed the small living room. Once he was in his bedroom, he crashed onto the bed, sprawling out.

The softness of his sheets welcomed him, carrying the familiar scent of home. He snuggled, curling up.

If only he could sleep.

He groaned, sitting up with his legs folded. His fingers drummed lightly on his thigh, a plethora of thoughts racing through his mind.

He wondered if it could work.

Spending the night at Valentino's house and leaving once it was daybreak.

Celyn had suggested it.

It was supposed to keep Mikhail from finding out—but in truth, it was to keep Valentino from killing him if he stayed full-time.

It could work for a while, Nathan thought, plopping back on the bed.

But, if school resumed, it'd be too hectic—spending the night at the man's place, coming to his apartment then, going to school.

Another sigh left him he looked up at the ceiling.

Silence.

This was what he was most afraid of—being alone with his thoughts. He'd tried to forget Mikhail...

Much like the boy forgot him.

Mikhail never called to check up on him after he left, that night, even when he knew that Nathan was terrified of his older brother.

It was the cruelest reality check.

Elena now came first.

Soon, they would get married, have kids and he'd be a reject.

A bitter smile crossed his lips as resentment crept into his emotions, bitter and unforgiving.

The Ivanov brothers both rejected him.

It wasn't like he had an ounce of affection for Valentino, but it still hurt to be neither the first or second choice, but never considered.

He flipped to his side, his eyes darting around the little homemade photocards of Mikhail he had kept over the years.

The wall was filled with dozens of them, along with sticky notes where he'd written words of encouragement for himself.

His eyes landed on one he took of the boy at the beach more than half a decade ago, nostalgia creeping in.

That summer retreat brought him closer to his true sexuality.

Mikhail did.

His eyes fluttered close as he went down the memory lane, like it was a last rodeo before he could start learning to stop loving him.

He wished the string issue could be resolved quickly.

Only then would he be able to move on from the brothers who took his heart, broke it—and severed his string.

Night came and Nathan was already walking through Valentino's gates. He kept his eyes out for his dogs, hoping they were asleep in their sheds.

Cheryl greeted him at the door, gesturing for him to come in. He'd only left for a few hours, but it felt like this was his first time entering.

The pressure was the same, heavy and chest-crushing.

He crossed the living room and took a glance around.

Valentino wasn't there.

His heart pounded slightly as he stalked the hallway, sweat seeping out of the palms of his hands.

He reached Valentino's door, hand reaching for the door handle hesitantly. He stilled briefiy, counting down from 5 under his breath.

Three...

Two...

One.

Then, he turned it and pushed it open.

And immediately, regret overtook his emotions, raw, sharp, and impossible to soften.

Nathan pulled the door sharply, slamming it close. His breaths came fast, mirroring the rhythm of his beating heart.

He should have knocked.

Fuck!

The image flashed through his mind, crispier than a close-up portrait taken under the best lighting.

He screamed internally, hands coming up to his hair. The pain he felt when his fingers curled and pulled on his locs was nothing.

Nothing compared to what Valentino would cause him.

They tugged tighter as the scene played over and over in his head like a broken record stuck on the worst note.

He'd never thought he'd see Valentino...

Naked.

When the door swung open, the man had paused, snapping his head towards Nathan.

Their eyes met, before Nathan scanned him.

Time had slowed, enough for his eyes to drink in every detail. The curves of his muscles, his abs, biceps and...

Argh!!!

Nathan screamed in his head, his fingers pulling tight enough to create bald patches.

His member.

Nathan did not understand much of what it was he felt when his eyes landed on it, but it wasn't pleasure or awe.

It was fear.

He did not need a second look to know it was the same size as his 7-inch dildo, with a thick shaft and bulging veins.

And that was when it was soft!

He walked back into the living room, shoulders pulled inward. His eyes were downcast as he sat on the couch.

Cheryl asked him what was wrong, but he couldn't talk.

He watched her give him a look of pity, before she upped and excused herself.

His time was up.

Valentino would end him.