My Dear School Senior - 5. Chapter 5 A Favor 2

Victor Ashford stood at the boarding area, greeting his guests.

“Tate!”

He came over enthusiastically, his arms spread wide.

Tate smiled and shook his hand.

Victor’s attention quickly shifted to Richard.

“And who’s this?”

Tate slipped an arm naturally around Richard’s waist.

“Richard Miller.”

He paused briefly.

“My partner.”

Richard’s heart gave a sudden leap.

They had rehearsed this, but actually hearing Tate introduce him that way in front of a stranger still felt strangely unreal.

“Nice to meet you.”

Victor was clearly surprised.

“Your partner?”

He looked at Tate.

“You never mentioned him.”

“You never asked.”

Tate answered without missing a beat.

Victor burst out laughing.

“Well, I suppose the surprise I arranged for tonight was unnecessary.”

Richard didn’t understand what he meant.

Not until a young man emerged from behind Victor.

“Tate Parker?”

His voice was pleasant, with a deliberately slow, languid quality.

The young man looked about twenty-five. He was tall and slender, with golden-brown hair styled to look effortlessly attractive. He wore a white silk shirt, open at the collar, its sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal well-defined forearms.

He was strikingly handsome.

Not in the clean-cut, slightly scholarly way Richard had been attractive when he was young, but with a carefully cultivated, confident sex appeal.

“I’m Alex.”

He offered Tate his hand.

“Victor keeps telling me I absolutely had to meet you tonight.”

Tate shook his hand politely.

“Hello.”

Alex didn’t immediately let go.

“You’re even more handsome than your pictures.”

Victor laughed beside them.

Tate withdrew his hand.

“Thank you.”

Only then did Alex turn his attention to Richard.

His gaze traveled from Richard’s rather unkempt hair to the fine lines around his eyes, then down to the expensive-looking shirt he wore.

“And this is?”

“My boyfriend,” Tate answered.

Alex raised an eyebrow.

“Oh.”

He offered Richard his hand.

“Lucky.”

Richard shook it.

“Thank you.”

Alex smiled.

“I meant you’re lucky.”

Richard’s smile stiffened slightly.

But Tate had already spoken.

“I think so too.”

Alex paused, taken aback.

Tate’s arm tightened gently around Richard’s waist.

“I’m lucky to have Richard here with me.”

Richard turned to look at him.

Tate’s expression remained perfectly calm, as though he had said nothing out of the ordinary.

But Richard could feel his ears slowly growing warm.

 

Once the yacht had pulled away from the dock, dinner officially began.

Tate introduced Richard to several investors.

Richard tried hard to remember everyone’s names.

Most of what they discussed went over his head.

Private jets. European vacations. Yacht clubs. Commercial real estate.

Occasionally, someone asked what he did for a living, and he would vaguely explain that he used to work in logistics management.

They usually nodded politely before turning their attention back to Tate.

Richard didn’t blame them.

Still, he gradually began to feel like a stranger who had wandered into a party where he didn’t belong.

Alex, on the other hand, clearly belonged here.

He knew quite a few of the guests, remembered their preferences, and even seemed to know which charity galas Tate had attended.

Richard watched him move through the crowd, carrying a glass of champagne, until he reached Tate’s side.

“Tate,” Alex said with a smile. “May I call you Tate?”

“Of course.”

“Victor told me you’re very interested in modern art.”

“Occasionally.”

“So am I.”

Alex moved a little closer.

“There’s a private exhibition next month. If you’re interested, I’d love to go with you.”

Tate smiled politely.

“Thank you, but I’m pretty busy these days.”

“Too busy to spare even one evening?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Alex wasn’t discouraged.

Instead, he reached out and lightly touched Tate’s sleeve.

“Well, I can wait.”

Standing beside them, Richard suddenly felt an uncomfortable tightness in his chest.

He lowered his head and took a sip of water.

He knew he shouldn’t mind.

Their relationship tonight was only pretend.

Tate had every right to meet anyone he wanted.

Besides, Alex really was attractive and sophisticated, nothing like the men Richard had seen in nightclubs.

Young, handsome, with a beautiful physique. Standing beside Tate, the two of them looked almost like people from a magazine.

Richard unconsciously touched his own hair.

He had spent a long time trying to arrange it in front of the mirror that morning.

But no matter how carefully he combed it, his slightly unruly hair would never look the way it had when he was young.

Thinking about it now, he felt rather ridiculous.

“Richard?”

Tate’s voice brought him back to the present.

“Hmm?”

“Would you like something to eat?”

Richard shook his head.

“I’m not hungry.”

Tate studied him.

“Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m fine.”

Richard managed a smile.

“I’m just not used to this sort of thing.”

Tate was about to say something when Alex approached again.

Richard turned to them. “I'm going to get something to drink.”

With that, he left Tate and Alex behind.

“Mr. Parker, I hear you own some property in Miami as well? “Alex asked.

“A few investments.”

“Then you must spend a lot of time at the beach.”

Alex smiled, adjusting his collar.

“I absolutely love the beach. Especially when it's just the two of us.”

He looked deliberately at Tate.

A few guests nearby chuckled, their laughter warm but suggestive.

Tate glanced at Alex.

“I believe you've already met Richard.”

“Of course.”

Tate looked around for Richard. When he finally spotted him, Richard was leaning against the railing on the deck, while another man beside him helped light his cigarette.

Richard smiled at the man, then turned his head and looked back at Tate from a distance, exhaling a puff of smoke.

“How long have you two been together?” Alex pressed on.

Tate took a deep breath at Alex's question.

“We…”

He turned to Alex.

Alex smiled.

“What? Can't remember?”

Tate spoke lightly.

“We've known each other for over twenty years.”

Alex was visibly taken aback.

“Over twenty years?”

“We went to high school together.”

Tate smiled.

“He's one of the people I've known the longest.”

Alex glanced at their clasped hands.

“How romantic.”

He paused.

“Although knowing someone for a long time and being together for a long time aren't quite the same thing, are they?”

Tate saw the man beside Richard hand him a business card.

His smile faded.

“Alex.”

“Hmm?”

“I'd like to spend some time alone with Richard.”

Alex shrugged.

“Of course.”

With a smile, he walked away, heading toward Richard.

In the distance, the lights of Chicago shimmered across the surface of the lake.

Richard gazed at the water without speaking.

Tate stood beside him.

“Are you upset?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Tate watched him for a moment.

“Alex was a little out of line.”

Richard gave a small laugh.

“He’s young.”

“So?”

“So…”

Richard didn’t know how to explain.

He could hardly tell Tate that he had spent the past several minutes comparing himself to Alex.

Comparing their hair, their skin, their bodies.

Comparing the way Alex looked standing beside Tate.

Even comparing the effortless ease with which the two of them spoke to each other.

Richard suddenly felt pathetic.

A nearly forty-year-old unemployed man, jealous of a model in his twenties at a party where he didn’t even belong.

And all over a man who wasn’t really his.

“Richard?”

Tate gently touched his hand.

Richard looked at him.

“What?”

“You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

Tate smiled.

“Then you don’t have to say anything.”

He turned his gaze toward the lake.

“I don’t like those tedious conversations either.”

Richard looked at him.

“But you’re very good at them.”

“Being good at something doesn’t mean you enjoy it.”

Richard was silent for a while.

“That young man really likes you.”

Tate couldn’t help laughing.

“You think so?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“He’s just flirting. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Richard looked down at his hands.

“He’s very handsome.”

“Mm.”

Tate agreed casually.

Richard’s heart sank.

He already knew Alex was handsome.

But hearing Tate acknowledge it still hurt.

“And young,” he added.

Tate turned toward him.

“Richard.”

“Hmm?”

“What are you trying to say?”

Richard managed a smile.

“Nothing.”

He paused.

“I just think that if you really needed a boyfriend, there are plenty of people here tonight who would be a better choice than me.”

Tate stopped smiling.

Richard immediately realized he had picked the wrong word.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean?”

Richard lowered his head.

“I just…”

He looked down at the shirt he was wearing.

“Even the clothes I’m wearing belong to you.”

Tate fell silent.

Richard gave an embarrassed little laugh.

“Don’t you think it’s ridiculous?”

“What’s ridiculous?”

“An unemployed man wearing your clothes, pretending to be your boyfriend.”

Tate looked at him.

Richard was still smiling.

But there was something about that smile that made Tate deeply uncomfortable.

“Richard.”

His voice was low.

“Do you know why I invited you tonight?”

Richard shook his head.

“Because you needed someone to fend off those models.”

Tate didn’t answer immediately.

“That was only part of the reason.”

Richard raised his eyes.

“What was the other part?”

Tate looked at him.

The lake breeze stirred the thinning hair across Richard’s forehead.

Suddenly, Tate remembered the way Richard used to look at him in high school.

Earnest and open, with a hint of expectation he didn’t even seem aware of.

“Because I wanted to spend time with you,” Tate said.

Richard stared at him.

“That simple?”

“That simple.”

Richard looked at him for a moment.

Then he lowered his head and laughed softly.

“You’ve gotten really good with words.”

Tate laughed too.

“So, do you still want spending time with me?”

Richard looked back.

“Yeah.”

He paused.

“I always have.”

Something stirred sharply in Tate’s chest.

Richard seemed to realize how intimate his words sounded.

He quickly turned back toward the lake.

Tate didn’t press him.

He simply reached out and took Richard’s hand again.

This time, Richard held on more tightly than before.

 

Alex, however, had not given up.

Halfway through dinner, he appeared beside Tate once again.

This time, he had clearly been drinking.

His cheeks were flushed, and his smile had grown considerably bolder.

“Tate.”

In front of several guests, he reached out and straightened Tate’s collar.

“You know, I’ve always thought mature men have a certain irresistible charm.”

Tate stepped back half a pace.

“Thank you.”

But Alex moved closer.

“Especially men like you.”

He deliberately lowered his voice.

“Sometimes I wish I’d been born a little earlier.”

Several people laughed.

Victor seemed particularly delighted.

“Tate! Looks like you’re the most popular man here tonight!”

Tate frowned.

“Victor, I already told you—”

“All right, all right! Don’t be so serious!”

Victor raised his glass.

“The young man just wants to get to know you.”

Alex turned to Richard with a smile.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

Richard blinked.

“What?”

“I’m just talking to your boyfriend.”

Alex’s expression was perfectly innocent.

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

Several people turned to look at Richard at once.

Richard suddenly found himself in an unbearably awkward position.

If he said he minded, he would seem petty and insecure.

If he said he didn’t, it would feel as though he were personally handing Tate over to someone else.

He tried to maintain his smile.

“I suppose…”

Before he could finish, Tate spoke.

“He doesn’t have to answer that.”

Alex turned toward him.

Tate’s voice remained calm.

“I’ve already turned you down.”

For a moment, the air went still.

Alex’s smile froze.

Then he shrugged.

“All right.”

He raised his glass.

“At least let me buy you a drink.”

Tate made no move to accept it.

“I don’t feel like drinking right now.”

Alex smiled faintly and finally walked away.

Richard stood beside Tate, but he didn’t feel nearly as relieved as he had expected.

Because he had suddenly realized that, just now, he had genuinely wanted Tate to announce in front of everyone—

That he belonged to Richard alone.

The thought filled him with shame.

He had no right to want that.

They weren’t even a real couple.

Yet when Tate reached for his hand, Richard couldn’t help gripping it tightly.

As though that were the only way to quiet the growing uneasiness inside him.

A little later, Tate took Richard to an upstairs lounge.

“Let’s get out of here. I just need to say a few goodbyes. I won’t be long. Rest here for a bit, and when I come back, we’ll leave together.”

With that, Tate loosened his tie and took it off, placing it on the table along with his car keys and a contract.

He pointed excitedly at the document.

“This is what I actually came here for tonight, not that model. Though I have to say, the old man hasn’t treated me too badly. When he realized I wanted to leave, he finally handed over the contract.”

Tate grinned.

“I’ve looked it over, and he’s already signed it. I heard he was considering a few other people on the yacht, too. I had no idea how much he was going to make me drink before I could get my hands on this thing. Guess I was worrying too much before.”

He tapped the contract.

“You have to look at this. The amount is incredible!”

Tate moved closer to Richard, the smell of alcohol on his breath.

“I’m leaving everything that matters to me in your hands. I’m a little drunk myself, so keep an eye on it for me.”

Then he went out, closing the door behind him.

 

The music on deck was louder than before.

Richard made his way through the crowd.

He had to find Tate as quickly as possible.

While waiting in the lounge, perhaps simply because he had nothing else to do, Richard had picked up the contract and begun reading it.

And he had discovered an extremely unreasonable clause.

If the project’s operating costs exceeded the budget later on, Tate’s side would not only be responsible for most of the additional expenses but would also have to guarantee Victor’s company its agreed-upon profit.

Richard had done a rough calculation.

Based solely on the projected figures in the contract’s schedules, Tate could be exposed to tens of millions of dollars in additional liabilities.

He didn’t know whether Tate had noticed the problem.

But he had to tell him.

When Richard reached the stern, he finally spotted Tate.

Tate was standing beside a high-top table, talking to Alex.

Alex stood very close to him, holding two glasses of champagne.

At first, Richard thought nothing of it.

Then he saw Alex turn slightly sideways.

The young man lowered his head and, using his body to block the view, quickly slipped something into one of the glasses.

The movement was swift.

It lasted barely a second.

Richard stopped in his tracks.

He could hardly believe what he had just seen.

Alex raised his head, a sweet smile returning to his face.

Then he handed that glass of champagne to Tate.

Tate accepted it.

Richard’s heart dropped.

He practically ran toward them.

“Tate!”

His voice trembled with alarm.

Tate was about to raise the glass to his lips when he heard Richard calling.

He immediately turned.

Richard stood in the doorway.

His face was pale.

One hand was clenched tightly into a fist, while the other gripped the doorframe.

The smile vanished from Tate’s face.

Without so much as another glance at Alex, he set the glass back on the table.

“Richard?”

He hurried toward him.

“What’s wrong?”

Richard didn’t answer.

He simply stared at Tate until he was certain the glass had been left behind.

Only then did he breathe a little easier.

“Come here.”

“What happened?”

“Just come here!”

Tate had never heard Richard speak to him in that tone.

There was an urgency in his voice that was almost commanding.

Tate’s chest tightened, and he quickened his pace.

The moment he reached the doorway, Richard grabbed his arm.

“Richard—”

Before Tate could finish, Richard yanked him back into the lounge.

The door slammed shut behind them.

Then came the sound of the lock turning.

Click.

Tate stared at him.

Richard stood with his back against the door, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

One hand still gripped Tate’s arm, while the other remained on the lock, as though he feared someone might suddenly burst in.

“Richard?”

Tate stepped closer.

“What the hell happened?”

Richard opened his mouth but couldn’t immediately get the words out.

Tate saw that his face was flushed, and tiny beads of sweat had formed on his forehead.

A sudden wave of panic swept through him.

“Are you feeling sick?”

Tate put his hands on Richard’s shoulders.

“Are you in pain?”

Richard shook his head.

“No…”

“Then what happened?”

Richard looked at him.

There was fear in his eyes, and his breathing was so rapid that he could barely form a complete sentence.

Tate could no longer think about anything else.

He pulled Richard into his arms.

“Hey, hey…”

His voice softened instinctively.

“Look at me.”

Richard lowered his head slightly, his forehead nearly touching Tate’s temple.

Tate wrapped one arm around his back and gently supported the nape of his neck with the other.

“Tell me what happened,” he murmured.

“I’m right here.”

Richard went still.

He hadn’t expected Tate to suddenly embrace him.

The hug was warm and firm, carrying that familiar woody scent.

His heart had already been racing, and now it seemed completely out of control.

Tate, meanwhile, was nowhere near as calm as he appeared.

The look on Richard’s face a moment ago had frightened him badly.

Only when he had Richard safely in his arms did he begin to relax.

But then he became acutely aware of Richard’s body pressed against his.

The pale blue shirt belonged to Tate.

The man beneath it was someone he had been missing for twenty years.

Tate’s heartbeat suddenly quickened.

He could even feel heat rising into his cheeks.

“Richard…”

He lowered his head, his voice slightly hoarse.

“Tell me. What exactly happened?”

Richard finally managed to catch his breath.

“Your drink…”

Tate frowned.

“What?”

“That man just now.”

Richard lifted his head.

“Alex.”

Tate’s hand remained on his back.

“What about him?”

“He put something in your drink.”

Tate froze.

Richard grabbed urgently at his shirt.

“I saw him. Right before he handed you the glass.”

Tate’s expression gradually changed.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Richard nodded emphatically.

“I don’t know what it was, but he definitely put something in there.”

He paused, and his voice suddenly grew quieter.

“When I saw you about to drink it…”

Tate looked at him.

Richard’s fingers were still clutching his shirt.

“I was terrified.”

The last two words barely made it out of his throat.

Something inside Tate softened.

At last, he understood why Richard had called out to him in such a panic.

Why he had dragged him into the room without a second thought.

And why, even now, he still couldn’t bring himself to let go of Tate’s shirt.

Tate gently took his hand.

“I didn’t drink it.”

Richard nodded.

“I know.”

“I put it down as soon as you called me.”

“I saw.”

“So I’m fine.”

Richard raised his eyes.

“Really?”

Tate held his gaze.

“Really.”

Richard let out a long breath.

As though only now could he finally believe that Tate was safe.

His shoulders slowly relaxed.

Then he suddenly realized they were still holding each other.

One of Tate’s hands rested against the small of his back.

And he himself was still clutching the front of Tate’s shirt.

Richard blushed deeply.

“Sorry.”

He quickly let go.

“I panicked.”

But Tate didn’t immediately release him.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“I…”

Richard glanced down at the small distance between them.

“I dragged you in here and locked the door.”

Tate couldn’t help laughing softly.

“That was pretty alarming, I’ll give you that.”

Richard looked even more embarrassed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Richard.”

Tate called his name gently.

Richard looked at him.

“It’s all right.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to worry about whether you were rude.”

Richard gazed at him.

Tate lowered his voice.

“And you certainly don’t have to apologize for holding me.”

The room suddenly fell silent.

Richard stared at him.

Tate also realized that what he had just said sounded rather intimate.

But he didn’t take it back.

His hand still rested lightly at Richard’s waist.

They stood very close together.

Close enough for Richard to see his own reflection in Tate’s eyes.

After a few seconds, Richard said quietly,

“I really was scared.”

Tate stopped smiling.

“I know.”

“I didn’t know what they were planning to do to you.”

Richard paused.

“But when I thought something might happen to you…”

He couldn’t finish.

Tate watched him silently.

It suddenly struck him that the man standing before him, wearing his clothes, hadn’t stopped to consider Victor’s status or whom he might offend.

All Richard had wanted was to protect Tate.

Just as he had twenty years ago.

“Richard,” Tate said softly.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

Richard shook his head.

“What are you thanking me for?”

He seemed genuinely puzzled.

“It’s not like I could just stand there and watch someone hurt you.”

Tate swallowed.

Suddenly, he wanted very badly to kiss him.

Not because they were pretending to be a couple tonight.

Not because of the alcohol.

But because of the matter-of-fact way Richard had said those words.

As though no matter how many years had passed, no matter how different their lives had become, if Tate ever found himself in trouble, Richard would still step forward without hesitation.

Tate’s fingers tightened slightly.

But in the end, he merely gave Richard another gentle hug.

Then he slowly let go.

“All right,” he said quietly.

“Now let me handle this.”

But Richard suddenly remembered something else.

“Wait.”

He hurriedly picked up the contract from the table.

“There’s something else.”

Tate looked at the document.

“What is it?”

“I read it.”

“That’s fine. You can read it.”

Richard opened it to a particular page and pointed at the figures.

“The expense calculations here are wrong.”

Tate took the contract.

Richard continued.

“They’ve counted the long-term operating costs twice, and this clause exposes you to additional risk.”

He quickly turned to another page.

“If the project’s revenue falls short of projections, Victor’s company still gets its guaranteed profit, but you’re responsible for making up the difference.”

Tate’s expression gradually grew serious.

Richard looked at him.

“I don’t know what terms you originally negotiated, but this contract is terribly unfair to you.”

Tate didn’t answer immediately.

He studied the figures.

Then he glanced at Richard.

The man who had been so frightened a moment ago that he could barely speak was now carefully explaining the problems in the contract.

His voice was clear, his reasoning precise.

That familiar light had returned to his eyes.

Tate suddenly smiled.

Richard blinked.

“What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing.”

Tate closed the document.

“I was just thinking that bringing you here tonight was one of the best decisions I’ve made.”

Richard looked a little embarrassed.

“I only happened to notice it.”

“It wasn’t luck.”

Tate looked at him.

“You’ve always been this smart.”

Richard’s smile slowly faded.

Tate continued.

“It’s just that you seem to have forgotten.”

Richard lowered his head.

After a moment, he gave a quiet laugh.

“Tate.”

“Hmm?”

“You really know how to sweet-talk someone tonight.”

Tate smiled.

“Do you like it?”

Richard raised his eyes.

He looked at Tate, a faint blush still lingering on his cheeks.

“I…”

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

They both turned.

Victor’s voice came from outside.

“Tate?”

He paused.

“Are you two in there?”

Tate glanced at Richard.

Then he set the contract on the table.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said.

“I’m getting you out of here.”

A moment later, Tate undid a few buttons on his shirt and ran a hand through his hair.

Then he opened the door and smiled at Victor.

“What’s with all the urgent knocking? You’ve completely ruined the mood.”

Victor still looked anxious.

“Did something happen? Your friend looked awfully pale.”

“He did, actually. So would you mind if we left early? My boyfriend needs to get home and get some rest. And he needs me to take care of him.”

Victor leaned close to Tate’s ear and spoke quietly.

“Now that I’ve given you the contract, the others outside are hoping to celebrate with you.”

Tate put on a troubled expression.

“My dearest Victor, I really appreciate it. But tomorrow I still need to have my lawyers and finance people go through the contract.”

Victor’s voice took on a distinctly displeased edge.

“My boy, we’ve worked together for so long, and you still don’t trust me? If you leave now without finalizing the deal, I may have to consider giving it to someone else. It’s a long night. A lot can change before morning.”

He paused.

“Or you could confirm your acceptance of the contract right now.”

Tate put a hand to his forehead, unable to look Victor in the eye.

“Uncle, don’t make things so hard for me. We’re talking about an enormous amount of money. I’d feel a lot better if I could have it properly reviewed.”

Victor’s tone grew colder.

“If you’re leaving now, leave the contract here.”

Tate said, with deliberate significance,

“I’m terribly sorry, my dear uncle. Your boy has grown up.”

He paused.

“Thank you for the drinks.”

 

They made their way out to the marina.

Once they reached the dock, Richard noticed Tate’s knees suddenly buckled.

Tate stumbled and dropped to the ground.

Richard hurried to help him, but Tate raised a hand to stop him.

“Just let me sit for a minute,” he murmured.

A moment later, he asked,

“Can you drive?”

Then he answered his own question.

“Oh, right. You’ve been drinking too. That was a stupid question.”

He took out his phone.

“Don’t worry. I’ll call a driver.”

Richard sat down beside him and looked around.

There was hardly anyone nearby.

A few people stood smoking some distance away, probably guests from the same yacht.

The other yachts were lined up neatly along the docks, their lights dark, rising and falling gently with the waves.

“Is Victor actually a relative of yours?” Richard asked. “I heard you calling him Uncle.”

Tate turned to look at him.

“No. That’s just what I call him to stay on his good side. He’s older, and he has a lot of connections and influence in this business. Besides, he’s given me plenty of opportunities over the years.”

“But I don’t like seeing you work so hard to please other people,” Richard said softly.

Tate lowered his head without answering.

His chest rose and fell with a few involuntary breaths before he quickly regained his composure.

There were only a few streetlights along the dock, and they were dim.

Sitting together, they could barely make out each other’s faces.

They could only hear each other’s light voices as they waited for the driver.

“Is it always this quiet here?” Richard asked.

Tate turned toward the marina.

The night breeze off the lake had grown stronger, ruffling his hair.

“The last time I came here was probably six months ago, maybe longer. There were plenty of people back then. A lot of the yachts were full music and laughter.”

He looked around.

“Now the whole place has gone to hell.”

“Looks like the yacht business isn’t doing too well these days either,” Richard said, giving Tate a playful nudge with his shoulder..

He heard Tate laugh softly.

 

Later, Tate had the driver take Richard home first.

When Richard got out of the car, he took one look at Tate and frowned with concern.

“Go straight to bed when you get home. Get some sleep.”

Tate smiled at him without saying anything.

By the time Tate reached home, he tossed his keys aside without caring where they landed and collapsed onto the bed.

He curled up in pain.

The thought of that enormous figure in the contract still filled him with dread.

He imagined what might have happened if he had gotten completely drunk tonight and signed the contract without thinking.

And then, to make matters worse, posed for a big group photograph with everyone, supposedly celebrating the deal.

How ridiculous that would have been.

As he curled in on himself, another wave of nausea seized his stomach.

He rushed to the bathroom and began vomiting violently into the toilet.

Even as he retched, he couldn’t stop questioning Victor in his mind.

Why?

Why would a man he had once respected and trusted so deeply want to take back everything he had given him over the years?

And why wasn’t taking it all back enough?

Why did Victor now seem determined to make him repay it with interest?