Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
His jaw clenching, Zain said tersely, “Have you already forgotten that I’m your owner, not your—friend?”
Aiden blinked a few more times before smiling. He had the nerve to look amused, the little shit. “Translation from Zain-speak: I’m experiencing some soft, icky emotions, so I’m going to overcompensate and act like an asshole. Did I get that right?”
“I don’t act like an asshole. I am an asshole.”
Aiden grinned. “I know. You’re a dick, there’s no denying that. Now kiss me, you grump. I missed you.”
Zain buried his hand in Aiden’s hair and crushed their lips together.
Aiden was still smiling as he kissed back.
***
Aiden was fast asleep beside him when Zain’s phone buzzed with a notification.
Zain reached for it and tensed up when he saw who the message was from. It was his head of security, Abdullah. Apparently, he had the information he wanted.
Carefully, Zain pushed Aiden’s leg off him and got out of the bed. Aiden made an unhappy little noise but didn’t wake up, hugging Zain’s pillow instead.
Tearing his eyes away, Zain walked onto to the balcony and called Abdullah. “You know who he is?”
“Yes,” Abdullah said. He sounded uncomfortable. “I was able to identify him using my connections in the intelligence agency. The man is an Italian—”
“I gathered,” Zain said, very dryly.
“He’s a member of the Sicilian mafia, Sheikh. Rumor has it, he’s the right hand of the new boss.”
Zain frowned. It made no sense. He’d never had any dealings with the mafia. Why would they even be looking for Aiden? He lived half a world away from Italy.
“I’ve also found out that Lorenzo has approached several high-profile businessmen lately, for reasons unknown.”
Probably the other attendees of the party Aiden was sold at. Lorenzo clearly knew Aiden had been sold at that party but wasn’t sure to whom.
But it could be only a matter of time before he found out. The auction might have been anonymous, but as Zain had proved, that didn’t guarantee anything. Granted, it had taken Zain considerable effort to find out who had bought Aiden’s friends, and he could only do it because he had access to all CCTV cameras in the city.
“Anything else?” Zain said.
“Not much. But Lorenzo has at least twelve men with him. And they all seemed armed.”
Zain hung up and returned to the bedroom.
He stared at Aiden’s sleeping form for a moment.
Then, he climbed into the bed and pulled Aiden into his arms, pressing his back flush to Zain’s front. Somehow, it wasn’t enough. Burying his face in Aiden’s neck, Zain held him tighter and carefully slipped his cock back into Aiden’s well-used, still-wet hole. There was no urgency to his desire this time. He just wanted—needed—to be inside him.
It had nothing to do with the fear that he could be taken away.
He didn’t fear that. He was going to get rid of Aiden. But on his terms, when he decided to do so.
He wouldn’t let anyone interfere with that, Italian mafia be damned.
“Zain?” Aiden mumbled sleepily. “Do you want me to go to my room?”
“No,” Zain said, tightening his arm around him. His. He was his. “You will always sleep with me from now on.”
So that no one can steal you while I sleep.
Chapter Eighteen
There was a wrapped rectangular box on their bed. Well, it was Zain’s bed, technically, but considering that he hadn’t slept in his own bed for the past few months, Aiden was a little justified in thinking of this bed as theirs.
Aiden picked up the box and said, “What is this, Zain?”
Zain didn’t look up from his phone. “Isn’t it your birthday?”
Aiden blinked. His birthday—
Right. It was February already. He had turned twenty-two.
“I had no idea you even knew when my birthday was,” Aiden said, starting to tear the wrapper off. “It’s sweet of you to remember.”
Zain kept his gaze on his phone. “It’s nothing. I had my secretary buy it.”
Smiling, Aiden rolled his eyes. It was kind of endearing, really, how dismissive Zain was of any nice gesture on his part. He’d done the same back in November when he had casually remarked that he’d gotten Aiden’s friends out of the country, as if it wasn’t a monumental thing. He’d done the same in December too: pretended that it wasn’t a big deal to have the house decorated for Christmas and acted as though it was normal to give a small mountain of presents to a sex pet on Christmas—a holiday he didn’t celebrate himself.
Aiden was actually low-key surprised Zain was giving him only one present this time.
But as he tore the wrapper off, Aiden’s smile faded.
He stared at the phone in his hands. “It’s a phone,” he heard himself say.
“Hmm.”
“You’re giving me a phone,” Aiden said.
“Yes. I’m sure you’ve seen one before.”
Aiden lifted his gaze and stared at Zain. “I…” I don’t understand, he wanted to say.