Chapter 12

Shay-Lee

Three weeks had passed since Nero pulled me into his lap, jerked me off, and gave me the most intense orgasm of my fucking life. I'd attended the club many times since then and made sure to meet him on every one of those visits. Unfortunately, while I craved for him to touch me again, Nero refused to do anything sexual with me. In every one of our meetings, he kept his hands mostly to himself while we talked. And God, did we talk.

We talked for hours.

Conversations with him could be shallow, from what our favorite food was to him telling me about his family and me telling him about mine—at least, some parts about it.

After almost a month of getting to know him but not really knowing him, my connection to him grew. I'd never experienced such strong feelings toward another person, feelings that made me feel safe. Everything I had with Miles or Jordan was nothing compared to the moments when Nero stripped me of my games and forced me to be honest.

Wasn't it ironic that of all people, the one person I formed an emotional connection with, rather than a sexual one, was a hooker?

No. He was so much more than that. He was smart and fascinating in the way he could speak about almost everything from politics and philosophy to art and music. Although, it wasn't just his knowledge and intellect that impressed me, but his attentiveness. Despite the nature of our meetings, he made sure to always ask me about my day and how I felt.

Don't even get me started about his dancing. Fuck. The man was talented. When he told me he'd started dancing as a kid because he loved ballet, I was shocked. How did a guy who came off so dangerous and dark love something so elegant and classic? I was so convinced of my first impression of him that it was hard to let it go, but after three weeks of slowly peeling off layers of prejudices, I understood how full of surprises this sensitive, intelligent, brilliant man was.

Speaking of surprises, I also learned that Nero was vegan. For some reason, I had envisioned him devouring meat. Specifically, my meat. Anyway, his surprising diet was why I dragged my ass out of bed on a Saturday morning to stand in line at one of the best vegan bakeries in LA. I wanted to bring Nero something tasty when I saw him this afternoon. Since my dad began noticing when I was gone at night, I started visiting the club earlier. Hence why weekends were the fucking best. I came in around noon and stayed with Nero for as long as I could. I also noticed how he changed his shifts so they would align with my visits. This small, little fact was significant enough to brighten my darkest days.

"Good morning, ehh… sir," the girl behind the counter mumbled as my turn finally arrived. From the blush on her cheeks and the excitement in her eyes, I figured she recognized me. I wasn't an actual celebrity, but I had a pretty big audience on social media. By big, I mean over three million followers on Insta and over ten million on other platforms. Other than being my dad's son, all I did was post shit from my extravagant life, which included going to Beverly Bay High or occasional trips with my father to places like Seoul and Monaco, and that was enough to make people invested in what they presumed was the perfect life. If only they knew.

Sadly, I couldn't earn money out of my social platforms since my dad forced me to sign shitloads of contracts that forbade me from doing so. It was just another one of his methods to control me so I wouldn't run away. It wasn't that I lacked money, but having my own financial independence would have been nice. Theoretically, I had the freedom to buy and spend as much as I wanted. Reality wasn't as sweet, since every dime I spent came with a price.

"Good morning." I gave her a lazy smile that turned her face a deeper shade of red.

"I follow you everywhere," she blurted. "I mean, on your social media, not your actual life." She giggled awkwardly, and I offered her another polite smile.

"Thanks." I never cared too much about people recognizing me, mostly because I knew how disappointed they'd be if they'd known the real me. "So, what should I get?"

Ten minutes later, I left the bakery with a pretty pink box wrapped with a white ribbon full of pastries. Hoping I picked right because I wanted Nero to enjoy it, I made my way back to my car. My dad had gifted me with a new ridelast night, another bribe, and today, I took it for its first drive. A drizzle started just as I reached my new gray beauty. It had been raining the whole week, and I hated it. I hated the cold, and even more so the winter. Getting inside my car, I was all but ready to drive when I noticed the flower store across the street. More likely, I noticed the person who walked out of it with a bouquet of white daisies.

Dressed in a black raincoat, not leather, because he was too cool for something so mainstream, Diesel stopped in front of a badass Ducati. If I remembered correctly, he'd ridden that same motorcycle the night he kicked our asses at their old high school. Seeing him now made me realize that ever since our little incident about a month ago, we hadn't encountered each other once. The dude hardly ever attended school, and when he did, he ignored me. Which was fucking great because speaking to that mutt was a waste of air. The son of a bitch also still had my recording on his phone. Why hadn't he done anything with it yet? Was he waiting for the right moment? I knew I would if the roles were reversed.

With my hand gripping the steering wheel, I watched him climb on the bike and put on his helmet, all while keeping the bouquet safe in his hand. What was he doing with those flowers? Did he have a girl? Trying to remember if I'd seen him with anyone at school, I came up with nothing. But if he bothered himself enough to go out in such weather and pick flowers for some chick, that must mean he cared for her, which also meant that if I knew who the bitch was, I'd finally have something to threaten him with. So, as soon as he kicked into gear and started riding, I turned on my car and followed him.

The hard rain coming down allowed me to catch up to him while remaining unnoticed. We were on the highway when my phone rang, and my father's name appeared on the screen. I didn't want to pick up, but when did I ever? Knowing how sending him to voicemail would only hurt me, I took the call.

"Where are you?" he asked, not bothering with greetings, which probably meant he was alone.

"In the new car you bought me."

"Do you remember the benefit tonight?"

Oh fuck, I'd completely forgotten about it. Even if I did remember, I had no plans to cancel my time with Nero to go with him to one of his events.

"Oh." I coughed and sniffed, trying to make myself sound nasally. "Actually, Dad, I'm feeling kind of sick… I think I caught a cold." He wouldn't buy such an easy lie, so I coated it with layers I knew he'd take. "I mean, I can go if you want. I just don't want you to catch it yourself. I know you're flying to Japan for business tomorrow."

The line went silent for a moment. "Should I call Richard?" Richard was my personal doctor, who had treated me ever since I was a baby and ensured no treatment I had ever received, from a broken rib to psychiatric pills, would be written in my medical record. As far as the world knew, my EHR was a clean sheet.

"Oh, only if it gets worse. I think all I need is to sleep it off." I pretended to cough.

"So come home right away."

"Actually, I booked a fitting for the suit I'll be wearing for your event later this month. I'm on my way there right now." I knew mentioning his fancy party and how much I was looking forward to it would help butter him up. "It's with Mr. Ross, but if you think I should cancel and come home instead, I will." Bringing up his personal tailor would earn me some points with him.

"Ross, you say?"

"Yeah, you told me to go to him, remember?" Usually, I refused to take his advice and use his people, but if he bought my lie, I'd have to make this exception and get my suit done there.

"Of course, he's the best." He cleared his throat. "Don't cancel your appointment with Ross. Make sure you get the best. I want you to look perfect for our event." He sounded so proud. Not with me, of course, but in himself. The narcissist.

"Of course, Dad." Fake cough. "And I'll be home as soon as I can." Another fake cough.

"I'll see you soon," he said and then hung up.

That went well.

Pleased with myself for how the conversation went, I almost missed Diesel turning left. Braking and turning the wheel, cutting across two lanes, earning me a hell of a lot of honks and curses, I managed to take the turn. The rain was still pouring, and I kept a safe distance until I saw him enter a parking lot.

"What the…" I mumbled, realizing I got the whole idea wrong because I'd just followed him to a cemetery. The flowers could still be for a girl, but from the look of it, she wasn't among the living.

Parking my car in the farthest row from him, I stayed put as he parked his bike underneath a tree and took off his helmet. The rain finally stopped, and once it did, Diesel strolled off. There was a second where I thought I should respect the man's privacy and leave, but it quickly passed, and a moment later, I was out of my car.

The rain and dirt covering the ground made it hard to walk without ruining my shoes, which were way too expensive to ruin with mud.

It was winter when my mom died, and I remembered it rained at her funeral as well. I also remembered how I didn't want to go to her funeral. I cried and begged my dad to let me stay home, but instead, he dragged me there by force and didn't let me look away, not even for a moment. I'd never forget how hard he gripped the back of my neck that day, forcing me to look as they lowered my mom's coffin into the ground, all the while pretending to be the grief-stricken husband he wasn't. My father's act was so impeccable that to this day, he still wore their wedding ring around his finger. I also remembered what he whispered in my ear.

"It's your fault your mother is in the ground." His cold fingers stroked my cheek as his lips nearly brushed my ear. "That's why you can't look away. You must witness with your own eyes the consequences of your actions, you foolish boy."

The sound of crying snapped me out of my horrid memory, and I looked aside to see a family gathered around a grave. A woman, probably the mother, was on the ground, her hands thrown over the freshly dug grave. If I died, would anyone care? Would anyone throw themselves on my grave as this woman did? Probably not. My dad wouldn't be sad. He'd probably be the one to kill me.

Too caught up in my thoughts, I realized I'd lost Diesel. Shit. As I started to walk between rows, I scanned the area while trying to remain unnoticed. After walking for about twenty minutes, I gave up and was about to start making my way back when I spotted a bouquet of daisies resting against one of the graves. Diesel wasn't there, but I was sure those were the flowers he held, so I stepped closer.

"Carmen Maria Gómez," I read the name written on the stone. At first, I thought it might be his mother but ruled out that option as soon as I checked the dates. Whoever this person was, she was only eighteen when she died eleven years ago. That's young. Too young. As I read her tombstone, I saw that today was her birthday. She would've been twenty-nine had she lived.

With a sigh, I moved a hand through my hair. Coming here was pointless and made me feel like a complete asshole. I was an asshole, but after what I'd been through, I should have had the slightest bit of respect for losing someone you care about. My thoughts immediately took me to Nero and how he'd shared his mother's death with me. He never mentioned how she died, but neither did I. But what was I supposed to tell him? That the world thought my mom had killed herself, but in reality, I was pretty sure it was my dad? Nah. I could never tell him that because it would force me to reveal more of that story, and some secrets are too dark to ever see the light.

A drop of water landed on my head, and I looked up at the gray sky. It was about to start raining again, so I should get going. By the time I reached my car, I noticed Diesel's bike was already gone. At least I didn't have to face him again. That would have really made this day worse.