Todos os capítulos de Yours to Keep, Daddy: MM Taboo collection : Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 50

The applause rippled through the private dining room of the Grand Regency, a soft wave of crystal clinking and low chatter blending with the polite warmth of Saint’s inner circle. For two years, this room had been a battlefield of subtle political maneuvers, tense quarterly reviews, and guarded expressions. Tonight, however, the heavy mahogany doors seemed to hold back the weight of the agency, leaving only the amber glow of chandeliers and the unyielding reality of Saint’s declaration.Matthew felt the heat of Saint’s hand steadying the small of his back, a solid anchor against the sudden rush of adrenaline. The kiss had been unhurried—not a performative spectacle for the board, but a quiet, firm statement of truth. When Saint finally drew back, his fingers lingered against Matthew’s hip before dropping away to rest casually on his stemware.Across the long table, Marcus Vance, the VP of Regional Logistics and usually the first to query any organizational shift, set his glass down wi

The damp London air carried the faint scent of rain and jet fuel as Saint stepped out of the international arrival gates at Heathrow. Six months of back-and-forth trans-Atlantic video calls, staggered schedules, and late-night messages across a five-hour time difference had boiled down to this single moment. He bypassed the baggage carousel, carrying only his leather weekender bag, his movement purposeful and unhurried despite the bustle of the crowded terminal.Across the concourse, standing near the towering glass doors that overlooked the terminal pickup line, was Matthew.He looked striking in a tailored, dark charcoal wool coat, a fine knit sweater beneath it, his posture composed and thoroughly command-worthy. Six months heading the International Affairs division had sharpened Matthew’s presence; he no longer bore even the lingering trace of a man acting from behind the scenes. He was entirely in his element.Yet, the second Matthew’s gaze shifted and locked onto Saint, that for

The command room was smaller than it looked on the first morning. Two desks. One long table. A map that never came off the wall. After three days Miles knew the smell of it. Dust. Coffee. Tookes.They worked late because the operation window kept moving. Other officers came in for pieces of it and left. Miles stayed. That was the job. He told himself that every time the clock passed nineteen hundred and Tookes still had not told him to go.Tookes corrected him in front of people.Not cruel. Exact.“The northern route is shorter on paper. It is not shorter if the ridge is wet. Say it right.”Miles said it right. His ears burned anyway. When the room emptied, Tookes did not look at him for a full minute. Then he said, “You froze the number. Don’t freeze the ground under it.”“Yes, sir.”Tookes rubbed the back of his neck. The movement pulled his shirt across his shoulders. Miles looked at the map instead.They passed papers. Tookes’s hand was large. He set pages down slower than he need

The mission left the base before dawn. Two vehicles. A thin window. Tookes in the lead. Miles in the seat at his right because that was where an aide sat when the commander refused to leave him behind.No one talked much. The road was bad and the radio was worse. Miles watched Tookes’s hands on the wheel. Steady. Sure. The same hands that had caged him against a table two nights ago and then sent him out of the room.Tookes had not spoken of it. Miles had not either. The almost sat between them like a live wire neither man would touch in front of other people.The first part of the run went clean. They hit the mark. They took what they came for. They turned for the extraction and the ridge did what Tookes had said it would do if the rain held.It held.The wash came up fast. The second vehicle bogged. Shouts. A crack from the tree line that was not weather.“Down,” Tookes said.Miles was already moving. He hit the dirt beside the wheel and felt Tookes’s weight come over him a second l

They tried to act normal.It lasted until the first briefing.Tookes stood at the map and spoke like nothing in his office had happened. Miles took notes at his left and kept his eyes on the paper. His body still knew the desk. The height of it. The way Tookes had held his hips to keep the wood from knocking the wall.When the captain asked a question, Tookes answered it and his gaze slid to Miles for half a second too long. Miles felt it like a hand.After the room cleared, Tookes said, “Stay. The north file is wrong.”The north file was not wrong. Miles knew it. Tookes knew it. The lock turned anyway.They did not make it to the chair.Tookes had him against the door, mouth on his, hand already under his belt. Quiet. Fast. The kind of taking that was half relief and half punishment for needing it. Miles bit Tookes’s shoulder to keep from making noise when he came. Tookes followed with his face turned into Miles’s neck, breathing hard, saying nothing that could be called tender excep