Content Warning

This chapter contains psychological manipulation, coercive power dynamics and mild mention of sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Sebastian was back in his penthouse, along with his lawyer. Hours earlier, he had not stopped searching for his prey, but there was no visible trace of Noah Harper left in the apartment: not a forgotten garment, not a cup out of place, not a poorly shelved book. The refuge of that first love was intact.

He had erased every sign of disorder with almost surgical precision, as if order could correct the mistake. As if erasing the trace of his obsessive search were equivalent to erasing the absence.

He had tried to contact Claire. Uselessly. She was not naïve. She had blocked her son’s phone as soon as he told her what had happened.

Damien watched him from the sofa, an untouched glass in his hand.

“You left nothing,” he commented calmly. “That says a lot about you.”

Sebastian closed the balcony door with a sharp movement and sat down on the sofa beside him.

“I got tired of looking for him, and his mother. She isn’t even at her house. It took me hours to get back through this damn traffic. I wasted my time… For now, I don’t want to talk about them.”

Damien smiled faintly, shaking his head.

“We’re not talking about him or them,” he corrected. “We’re talking about what you did when you… lost him.”

Sebastian turned his head immediately, frowning.

“I didn’t lose him.”

“Of course you did.”

There was no reproach or emotion in the response; it was more a fact than anything else.

Then Damien stood up and began to walk around the apartment, sipping his wine, while with his free hand he touched the expensive surfaces with the tips of his fingers, like someone inspecting an irreplaceable collector’s piece.

“You didn’t lose him because he wasn’t important,” he continued. “You lost him because you became weak.”

Sebastian exhaled sharply, irritated by the comment.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Damien stopped in front of him, setting the glass of wine down on a table beside him. The closeness was deliberate, but not yet intimate.

“You became careless,” he whispered. “You confused control with possession. That always ends the same way. I don’t know how it didn’t occur to you to be more… kind, to pretend you forgave him. You’re impulsive… and I always have to correct your mistakes.”

Sebastian clenched his jaw without looking away.

“I did it better than anyone.”

“No,” Damien corrected him. “You made it work,... until you wanted something more.”

The silence thickened, and Sebastian lowered his gaze toward his legs.

“It’s not something more,” he said tensely. “It’s… mine.

Damien let out a brief, dry laugh.

“That’s the problem,” he said aloud, leaning slightly forward.

“People aren’t yours. They’re useful… as long as they serve a function.”

Sebastian looked at him again, visibly uncomfortable.

“And Noah didn’t serve one?”

“For a while, yes,” Damien tilted his head. “He validated you. He supported you. He absorbed your guilt. He was… efficient.”

Those words lingered between them.

“But you started needing him to desire you,” he continued. “That was a mistake.”

Heat rose in Sebastian’s chest, and he clenched his fists tightly.

“You don’t understand,” he said. “He owed me…”

But Damien interrupted, raising a hand.

“No. You owed him something, and you didn’t know how to pay it.”

Sebastian leaned back slightly, resting his back against the sofa’s backrest.

“So what? Are you judging me now?”

Damien stepped closer. This time he invaded his space and sat down again.

“I’m not judging you,” he whispered. “I’m evaluating you, the way I always do with my clients.”

His fingers moved over one of Sebastian’s legs. Firm, calculated, and gentle.

“And you’re still useful.”

Sebastian swallowed, tense under his touch.

“Useful for what?”

His lawyer looked him straight in the eyes, enjoying seeing him so vulnerable.

“To give me structure. Direction. A legitimate reason to apply pressure without the world questioning me.”

His victim took a deep breath, slightly confused.

“Is that all I am to you?”

Damien tilted his head, thoughtful.

“That’s far more than most ever manage to be.”

And with that, he removed his hand from his leg.

“Noah wasn’t a loss. I’d say it was more… a poorly managed variable.”

Sebastian rested his elbows on his legs, visibly exhausted.

“He left,” he murmured. “He abandoned me. I can’t even locate his mother.”

Damien shook his head, amused by Sebastian’s frustration.

“No. You forced him to. And I’ll be honest: I told you it wasn’t your fault… but I didn’t imagine you’d be so reckless. You didn’t know how to win him over. Sweet-talk him. Make him believe that choosing you was his idea.”

He moved closer again, placing one hand on the back of the sofa, trapping him without touching him.

“Even so… what happened gave us valuable information.”

Sebastian looked up.

“Valuable information? What the hell are you talking about?”

“That Noah isn’t as fragile as you thought,” his lawyer replied. “And that when someone like that escapes… they don’t disappear. They just… reorganize their priorities.”

A chill ran through Sebastian, as if doubt had pierced him.

“You won’t find him,” he said, challenging him.

Damien smiled. This time, truly.

“Not now.”

He removed his coat and set it aside, looking at him in a seductive way.

“Give it time. When he thinks he’s safe… you’ll act.”

Sebastian frowned, then smiled faintly, enjoying Damien’s plan.

“How long do I have to wait?”

His lawyer shrugged, feigning indifference.

“Long enough for him to let his guard down. For him to trust and forget who he was when he was afraid.”

Then he leaned his face closer to Sebastian’s, still not as close as he wanted. “You should rest for now, Sebastian. There’s still work to be done.”

Noah had not left out of weakness —that much they both knew. Sebastian believed he would always be there to accept his desires, and Damien felt he would never make the same mistake… twice.