Damien took one look at the object in my hand, before he jumped off the bed.

"If I have to chase you, there will be a punishment equivalent to the crime." I threatened. He stood still looking at it.

I reached around his neck and snapped the choker in place. The chain hung loosely from its point of connection on his neck. I held the end of the chain, tugging it a few times.

"I'm not an animal!"

"Good! I'm not into beastiality!" I snapped at him. Taking my wallet off the dressing table I walked out the door.

"Ace. Stop!" I turned to face him at the head of the stairs.

"You are fine how you are! And don't worry! I rarely spend more than four hours at the office!"

Strengthening my grip, I descended the steps. He pulled against the chain. Finally up to my neck from his bullshit. I yanked on the chain forcefully and watched as he tumbled down the second half of the stairs. Much easier. I mentally noted. At the bottom I picked up the chain and began to walk, ignoring his cries of pain.

"Good Morning, Mr. Ackerman," said Carlos.

"Good Morning." I answered.

"Good Morning, Mr. Dagasse." He turned and greeted Damien. I tugged on the chain. He looked up at me furiously. What a nasty look.

"Good morning." He mumbled. We sat at the breakfast bar.

"Eat." I looked at him, as he reclined in the chair away from the food. Was I unclear? I frowned.

Damien gingerly picked up a slice of toasted bread and an apple from the basket. He poured a glass of water and began to eat. What the fuck! I took up the fork that sat in the eggs and served him and myself. He looked at the eggs like they were alien. I added on a slice of toast and buttered it for him. His jaw stopped moving. Damien sat staring at the plate not touching anything on it.

"Eat. Everything!" I demanded.

"I have no regrets so kill me now, because I am not having that!" Why are you so eager for death?

"Why not?" I asked out of curiosity. He turned his attention to the plate before him. "I asked you a question!"

"Ninety by two, one-eighty plus approximately one-hundred, two-eighty plus seventy-five by three, five-zed-five plus... should put at six hundred and five." He looked across to me. From his expression, I must have looked as confused as I felt. I schooled my expression. Feigning calm I asked the question I already knew the answer to.

"Six hundred and five what?"

"Calories."

The fork in my hand clattered noisily onto the plate. Another counter! I rubbed the bridge of my nose.

"How do you people live? How can you survive?" I asked no one in particular.

"Just imagine a plant. Sunlight and water." He laughed. I gave him a death stare. I was sure his words were meant to be a joke, but I could not see what was funny.

"The plants on my property can't talk! Don't be stupid!" I snapped at him. He shrunk into himself, dropping the toast in hand. Fuck.

"I'm sorry. You're not stupid. I didn't mean that. Damien..." He didn't even look at me.

My heart felt uncomfortable. I hated the mere idea of him practically starving himself. I'm attracted to muscle not bone! The words spoken to dad and I so many years ago resurfaced. 'Slow and steady wins the race.' Encouraging extra calories at every meal. Adding nutritional drinks. When he gets comfortable maybe two to three weeks later, I could start incorporating 'bad' foods into the diet.

It seemed so stupid back then, but it helped Axel. So it should still work.

"With the toast and apple. What number is that?" He looked at me sheepishly, before staring into oblivion.

"One seventy-five. Pretty far from my limit of five hundred, so it's okay." One seventy-five? The urge to feed him his 'limit' in one sitting was strong, but I reigned it in. Those extra calories need to be stuck in unknowingly. Preferably during the second or third meal... snack... nibble?

"Eat what you want." I finished off my breakfast before it went cold. Carlos cleared away the dishes before us. My eyes almost jumped out of my head. He only took three bites out of the apple! I coughed lightly.

"You know I was thinking, since we have so many left over calories. Let's have..." I paused, going through my mind for one of Axel's old anorexic choices, "baked potatoes and... baked chicken for lunch." I said. He looked at me cautiously. Don't stare at me like that. I'm sure you've already mapped out what you're going to have for dinner as well.

"We... do not have anything. I don't need your help to live my life. Besides, I know what I want for lunch." Bingo. Right on the nose.

"What do you want?" I asked out of genuine curiosity.

"The vegetable broth from yesterday." He replied happily. I blinked a few times well. That is for the sick and the elderly!

"Oh, how about for dinner then." I smiled through my annoyance.

"No." He stated. The corner of my eyes twitched.

"Oh, how about tomorrow then?"

"Tomorrow is too far away to plan such things. My mind could change." Oh! My fist itched to pound some sense into him. Instead I got up from the table picking up the chain, with the intention of picking up my sanity before passing through the door.

"You're serious about this!" He shouted. I yanked on his neck.

"When did I say you were forgiven? Now hurry. The driver is waiting on us."

I did not give him the light of day, as we walked through the front entrance of the building. Many malignant eyes turned our way. The uncensored words of the men and women travelled into our ears.

'I wonder what he did. I give him five days to live. Five... how about three. Isn't this sort of thing more the older brother's style?'

"Good Morning Boss," said One.

"Good Morning." I replied.

He then continued, "We received a notice. I think you'll want to see this and Caesar is waiting to see you." I nodded in acknowledgement taking the file from him. One walked off with his eyes skimming over the one that was in my possession.

"Let's go up then." I said to Damien.

We entered the elevator and headed up. A few steps down the corridor and we arrived at my office. I walked through the door tugging at the collar. His hands though they were at his side, shook slightly. With eyes trained to the floor, he walked in behind me.

"Good... Morning." Caesar's voice trailed off as he stared at the situation before him. Regaining his normal composure he continued, "We need to talk."

"I'm all ears."

Away from prying eyes, I led Damien to sit in a corner of the office. I hooked the chain through the arm of the chair and produced a lock from my pocket, locking it. I faced Caesar. As he looked at Damien, the expression on his face grew beyond disgust.

"What?" I snapped at him. He fixed his expression.

"He's been lynching my informants all over the city!" That's what you came here to tell me? My fuse blew.

"Oh." I responded, not wanting to start a fight so early in the morning.

"Ace every single body carries the same message. 'Hand over what is mine.' Ace give the man what he wants." Caesar's anger matched mine in an instant.

"His? I see no marks of ownership. Can you?" I gestured to Damien's body.

"That is beside the point! Just hand him over." He shouted.

"No!" I shouted. At a stalemate we stared at each other.

"Ace I'm talking to you as a friend, not even as a lover or a Head. Just give Tendom back his property. If not for my men's lives, do it for your men. For your group." He spoke softly to me.

I looked across to Damien. His eyes held a look of indifference. Holding eye contact with him, I made my stance clear.

"Sure. I'll return him... when he's dead."

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