Theo’s words lingered in my thoughts alongside Sébastien’s wisdom. Perhaps I had forged chains of my own making, limiting myself through fear. Yet bonds could be loosened, and I could begin testing their strength.
Chapter 22
Theo
Ipicked at the quinoa salad on my plate, the hollow ache in my chest making food the absolute last thing I wanted. Each swallow felt like choking down wet cement. My stomach had been a total mess since yesterday's fight with Ricard, flip-flopping between wanting to puke and feeling completely empty.
What the hell was I thinking? Getting all caught up in some fairy tale with a literal duke?Nice going, Theo. Real smart.
I stabbed at a cucumber slice, watching it split under my fork. The truth was simple and brutal: I'd been a fantasy, a vacation fling, a break from reality. Nothing more. Men like Ricard came to places like The Ranch to escape their real lives, to play pretend for a while before going back to their mansions and responsibilities and gorgeous partners who actually belonged in their world.
And guys like me? We were the props in their little escape drama.
Someone to fuck and forget.
I'd known the rules going in. I'd signed the damn contract. This was a job, not a dating service, and I'd gone and forgotten that. How many times had people warned me about getting attached? How many times had I seen the knowing looks from the other companions who'd been here longer?
“Get it together,” I muttered to myself, pushing the salad away. “It was never real.”
The worst part was how real it had felt. Those quiet conversations on his patio, swimming under the stars, the way he'd looked at me sometimes like I actually mattered.
But that was the service we provided here, wasn't it? The illusion of connection. The fantasy that someone important gave a damn about you beyond what you could do for them.
I needed to remember why I was here. Casey needed me. He needed the money I was making. That was real. That was what mattered. Not some ridiculous daydream about a royal whisking me away from all this.
Good job, Theo. Lesson learned. Now get over it and do your actual job.
“You should eat more than that,” Lance said as he sat down next to me. “You're gonna need your energy for this afternoon's shift.”
I sighed, forcing down a couple of bites, mechanically chewing without tasting anything. “You're right. Thanks, man.” I tried to sound thankful, but my voice came out flat, like I was reading from a script.
“Don't mention it. You look like you've seen better days.” Lance peered at the empty cabanas, then at the overcast sky. The pool duty had been dead all afternoon. “Why don’t you take a breather? I can handle this.”
“It’s good.” Honestly, I was nowhere near good, but the thought of moping around in my room obsessing over Ricard felt even worse. Keeping busy with clients seemed like my only shot at drowning out this stupid ache. “So, how long have you been doing this, Lance?” I asked, wanting to change the subject.
“It was two years last month. I don't know if I'll be here long term like some of these fellas, but it's good money now and I'm putting it allaway in the bank. Gonna retire by thirty-five, that's the plan.” Lance quirked his head, studying me. “How 'bout you?”
“I'm just kicking off my first couple of weeks.” I forced out a chuckle that sounded more painful than funny. “It's way more overwhelming than I thought.”
“It takes a few months to build up that emotional callous, unless you're one of those people who is naturally open and kinky with sex stuff.” Lance's eyes followed a pair of men who settled into some chairs at the far end of the pool. I turned to look, but the guys seemed only interested in each other, so we resumed our meal. “I will say, some of the regulars have been asking about you. The new kid in town, all of that.” Lance grinned and lowered his voice, kicking me lightly with his foot. “But you been busy with that one client over in Villa Six.”
“He's gone now.” My voice came out flat, like I was reporting the weather, even though inside I felt like I was literally falling apart. “So I should have more time for the others.”
“That'll make quite a few of the regulars pleased as punch. Most of 'em are easy. I'd say seventy-five percent is fairly vanilla stuff. There's a few that are really into their kinks, that have... specific tastes?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the gossip. “There's this one older gentleman, I think he's an entertainment attorney. He likes to wear diapers and be the baby. Harmless stuff, mostly oral and handjobs. One of my regulars is this married software engineer who loves to suck cock. You'll know him when you get him. The man's like a vacuum with his throat.” Lance grinned, his eyes twinkling.
I tried to stay focused on his words, desperate for anything to take my mind off Ricard, when I spotted a familiar face. “What about that guy?” I nodded toward an older man in a lounger, the same one I'd seen hanging out with Ricard.
“The Baron?” Lance chuckled softly, lowering his voice despite the empty tables around us. “That's Baron Julius von Königsberg, or as we call him, The Bad Man. He likes it rough. Really rough.”
I followed Lance's gaze to where the Baron sat. Even from a distance, there was something intimidating about him. Not just his height and powerful build beneath his expensive swim trunks, but the way he observed everything with calculated precision. Unlike the relaxed postures of the other guests, the Baron sat with perfect posture, legs crossed at precisely the right angle, one elegant hand holding a book while the other periodically raised a crystal tumbler to his lips. Every movement seemed deliberately choreographed. When he glanced our way, his eyes, pale gray and crazy intense, seemed to scan and label me in about two seconds flat. It made my skin crawl a little, like he was reading stuff about me I didn't even know myself.
“How rough are we talking?” I asked, unable to look away as the Baron returned to his reading.
“Let's just say, by the end of the scene, you might need some time to recover.” Lance's voice dropped even lower. “He likes to push boundaries—bondage that's just a little tighter than comfortable, crops that leave marks for days, choking that goes right to the edge of consciousness.” My eyes widened, both fascinated and slightly terrified. “He has a thing for making tough guys surrender. The harder you resist, the more he enjoys breaking you down.”
I felt a nervous flutter in my stomach as Lance shrugged. “The thing that makes him truly dangerous isn't his kinks. It's how scary good he is at reading people. He'll find exactly where your line is and dance right along it. You'll end up begging for things you never thought you'd want.” Lance glanced over at the Baron again. “Of course, that's only if you're interested in a scene like that. Plenty of people around here like that.”
“But not you?”
