Ricard's expression changed, the anger dropping away as regret took its place. He seemed to realize he'd crossed a line. “Theo, I didn't mean—”
“But there's a difference,” I continued, unable to stop now that I'd started. “I'm making this sacrifice for Casey because he doesn't have a choice about his situation. He didn't ask to be injured, to need expensive care. But your brother? He made his choices. He cheated on his wife, created this scandal, and now he wants to dump the consequences on you? And you're just going to let him?”
“It's not that simple,” Ricard snapped, a flush rising in his cheeks. “You're oversimplifying a complex political and familial situation that you know nothing about.”
“Maybe I am,” I conceded, getting fired up myself. “But Casey never asked for my help. Hell, he'd freak if he knew what I was doing here. I chose this because he's my brother and that's what family does. But there's a difference between having someone's back and being their doormat. You're giving up everything you want just so your brother doesn't have to deal with his own mess. And for what? So he gets to go live his best life while you're stuck with the job he didn't want?”
Ricard stood up, pacing to the window and back like a caged animal. “You can't possibly understand,” he repeated, his accent getting thicker as he got more upset. “This is my duty, my responsibility to my family and my country.”
“Bullshit,” I shot back, standing to face him. “I get responsibility better than you think. Every dollar I make here goes to Casey's medical bills. When I'm with clients, I'm calculating how many more sessions until I can afford a better rehab place in San Diego. But there's a difference between stepping up and being a sucker. You're scared to stand up to your family, scared to fight for what you actually want. So instead, you're going back to let them lock you up in some fancy palace prison for the rest of your life.”
“How dare you,” Ricard's voice went scary-quiet, vibrating with anger. He'd completely transformed—his fancy posture gone, replaced by something tense and almost dangerous. His hands were balled into fists, a vein popping out on his forehead. “You know nothing of my life, of the expectations I've shouldered since birth. You're a sex worker I hired for two weeks of pleasure. Don't presume to judge my choices or my character based on that limited exposure.”
Damn. It felt like he'd punched me in the gut. I actually took a step back, the air knocked out of me. My face went hot, then cold, a weird rushing sound filling my ears. I blinked hard, determined not to let him see how much that hurt.
So that's what he thought.
After everything—all our talks, the laughing, how he'd actually opened up to me—I was just some hooker he'd paid for. A fun little vacation fling. Nothing that mattered.
“Yeah, you're right,” I said, fighting to keep my voice from shaking. My nails were digging into my palms so hard they'd probably leave marks. “I don't know you, not really. But this isn't a two-week vacation for me, Ricard. I'm here so I can pay the bills and care for my brother who can't care for himself.”
Ricard's face changed, anger melting into regret as he realized what he'd said. He half-reached toward me. “Theo, I didn'tmean—”
“At least when I'm getting fucked, it's for a paycheck,” I cut him off, making each word as sharp as possible. My whole body was shaking, but I couldn't stop. “You like bondage, well you're the one who's really all tied up, getting fucked over by your own family and calling it duty.”
Holy shit. I couldn't believe I'd said that.
The color drained from his face like someone had pulled a plug. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. For what felt like forever, we just stared at each other across the room, this huge invisible canyon growing between us. The air felt thick and hard to breathe, like right before a thunderstorm.
“I think you should go,” he finally whispered, looking like I'd slapped him.
I nodded, already wishing I could take back the words but way too stubborn to apologize. “Yeah, I think I should.”
I turned and walked to the door, each step feeling heavier than the last. A part of me, a desperate, foolish part, wanted him to call me back, to apologize, to tell me I was right and that he would choose his own happiness over family obligation.
But the villa remained silent as I stepped outside into the sunshine, the door closing behind me with a soft, final click.
I stood there on the porch feeling like someone had scooped out my insides with a spoon. This wasn't how it was supposed to go down, not with us spitting venom at each other. We were supposed to have one last good afternoon, a nice memory to hold on to.
Instead, I'd lost my cool and pushed him on stuff that wasn't my business. And Ricard, dealing with his own crazy family drama, hit me where it hurt most, making everything between us sound like just another transaction.
I started walking back toward the companions' quarters, my eyes stinging so bad I couldn’t see straight.It's better this way,I tried to tell myself.Clean break. No messy feelings. No wondering what might've happened.Ibrahim would probably give me a gold star for finally listening to his warnings.
But with every step, memories kept ambushing me—Ricard's face all peaceful in the morning light; him cracking up during Iron Man; how he'd actually listened when I talked about Casey; the way he'd look at me sometimes like I was the only person in the world. That stuff couldn't have all been fake... right?
I stopped for a second, leaning against a tree, feeling like my chest might cave in. Part of me wanted to run back and say sorry, beg for a do-over, a better ending. But my pride kept my feet glued to the path. He'd shown his true colors, hadn't he? One push and I was just the hired help again.
Except... I'd been pretty brutal too. We'd both said stuff we couldn't take back.
By the time I was halfway back to my quarters, I wasn't even angry anymore, just exhausted and empty. I'd known this would end. Known he'd leave. Known we could never be anything real outside these walls. So why did it hurt so damn much?
As I walked away from Villa 6 for the last time, I couldn't shake this feeling that I'd lost something that mattered, something that, despite all the reasons it was doomed from the start, might have been real.
Might have been love.
The thought didn't hit me like lightning or anything. It just settled in quietly, like, oh, so that's what this is. That's why it hurts so bad. Ilovedhim. And now he was gone, flying back to his castle and his royal life, while I stayed here mixing drinks and faking smiles, with nothing but a paycheck and some messed-up memories.
Tomorrow I'd get back to work. Serve drinks, hang out with clients, do my job. Send money to Casey's rehab place. Do what I came here to do. But I'd always wonder what might've happened if things had been different. If he'd just been Ricard and I'd just been Theo, meeting somewhere normal, without all this duke-and-escort crap between us.
