Alaric

I woke up sore.

Not just slightly sore.

My entire body ached in ways that made it impossible to ignore what had happened last night.

I could feel it in my thighs, my back, and especially between my legs every single time I tried to move beneath the sheets.

Nico had genuinely destroyed me.

A weak groan escaped my lips as I rolled carefully onto my back while staring at the ceiling above me.

Then I immediately regretted it because another sharp ache shot through my body.

"Oh my God," I muttered under my breath.

Before I could even continue suffering in peace, my phone suddenly started vibrating loudly against the nightstand beside my bed.

I frowned before reaching over to grab it.

Catherine. Of course.

I answered the call while still half asleep.

"What?" I groaned tiredly.

"Good morning to you too," my sister replied dryly from the other side of the call. "Do not tell me you forgot about dinner tonight."

I squeezed my eyes shut briefly before rubbing a hand down my face.

"No," I lied immediately. "I did not forget."

"Good," Catherine said. "Because Mom has already been preparing since yesterday and if you cancel again, she might actually murder you this time."

I snorted softly.

"I will be there by seven."

"Good," she repeated again before her tone shifted slightly. "And Bastien is excited to see Dami again, so do not forget to bring him."

A louder groan escaped my lips immediately afterward.

Right, Dami. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Due to my spiraling thoughts about Nico last night, I had completely forgotten to mention the family dinner to him.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered tiredly before ending the call without another response.

The room immediately fell quiet again afterward.

I dropped my phone onto my chest before staring blankly at the ceiling once more.

Part of me stupidly expected there to be a text from Nico waiting for me this morning.

There was none.

I frowned slightly before unlocking my phone again.

His number still sat near the top of my recent calls from last night.

My thumb hovered over it for a few seconds.

I wanted to call him.

Badly.

But for what exactly?

To ask why he lied about the condom?

To ask why he suddenly panicked afterward?

Or worse...

Because I simply wanted to hear his voice again?

I immediately dropped my hand back onto the bed.

Absolutely not.

What we had was just sex.

Really incredible sex.

But still just sex.

I released a deep sigh before scrolling through my contacts until I finally found Dami’s number.

Then I pressed call.

The line connected almost immediately.

"Quoi de neuf, mon ami?(What’s up, my friend?)" Dami answered lazily.

I rolled my eyes automatically.

"Are you free tonight?" I asked directly.

"Yep. What is going on?"

"My family is having dinner tonight and since you somehow promised Bastien that you would visit him every time you are in Monaco..." I paused briefly before sighing. "Can you come with me?"

Dami went quiet for a moment.

I was already expecting him to come up with some excuse not to attend, but then he suddenly chuckled softly.

"Alright," he answered casually. "I am in."

I blinked slightly in surprise.

"That easily?"

"Your brother likes me more than you anyway," Dami replied smugly.

I scoffed immediately.

"Shut up."

"What time are we leaving?"

"I will pick you up from your villa by seven."

"Perfect."

The call ended shortly afterward.

I dropped my phone onto the bed again before groaning loudly while forcing myself upright.

The moment I stood up, pain immediately shot through my legs again.

"Fuck Nico," I muttered bitterly while limping toward the bathroom.

My ass and lower back felt like they were on fire.

Nico Park was genuinely insane.

By the time I finally showered and got dressed, it was already a little past ten in the morning.

Since I still had several hours before dinner, my thoughts drifted somewhere else entirely again.

Harold.

Or more accurately...

The fact that he had practically disappeared recently.

After the strange conversation I had with Nico last night, visiting Harold suddenly felt necessary.

Maybe because part of me wanted a distraction.

Or maybe because deep down, I was genuinely worried about him.

Harold had not answered any of my recent calls.

No texts.

No sudden appearances.

Nothing.

That was unlike him.

I grabbed my car keys before leaving the apartment shortly afterward.

A few minutes later, I was driving my black Ferrari SF90 Stradale through the streets of Monaco while soft music played quietly through the speakers.

The city looked beautiful as always.

Luxury stores lined the roads while expensive cars moved smoothly through the narrow streets near Monte Carlo. Tourists crowded the sidewalks while the Mediterranean glittered beneath the sunlight nearby.

But my thoughts remained somewhere else entirely.

No one would ever believe it if I told them that despite how close Harold and I were, I had never met his family before.

And somehow he had never met mine either.

The craziest part was the fact that he supposedly lived near the exact street where my accident happened years ago.

I had dropped him off there multiple times.

Mostly at night.

Yet somehow I had never once entered the property or questioned anything about it.

I frowned slightly while tightening my grip against the steering wheel.

Maybe I really was a terrible friend.

Maybe that was why Harold had stopped reaching out to me lately.

The closer I got to the property, the harder my heart started pounding inside my chest.

I was finally going to see him again.

Hopefully.

A few minutes later, I finally pulled up in front of the massive gates surrounding the property.

The building behind it looked enormous and modern, hidden partially behind tall walls and security fencing.

I slowly rolled down my window the moment two security guards started approaching the car.

"Hello," I began politely. "I am Alaric de Vi—"

One of the guards immediately cut me off before I could finish speaking.

"We know who you are, Mr. de Villier."

I blinked in confusion.

"Excuse me?"

The second guard smiled politely.

"You have been coming here for months now," he explained calmly. "We assumed you were coming in for another rehabilitation session, but nobody informed us beforehand."

My eyebrows slowly pulled together.

Rehabilitation?

"I think there is some misunderstanding," I said carefully. "I am here to see my friend Harold. He lives here."

The guards exchanged a brief look.

"You mean he is admitted here?" one of them asked cautiously.

I frowned immediately.

"Admitted?" I repeated sharply. "What exactly are you trying to say?"

The older guard shifted slightly before speaking again.

"Mr. de Villier, this is a private rehabilitation facility," he explained carefully. "Most people do not know this place exists unless they have been treated here personally or know someone who has."

I stared at him blankly.

Then he continued.

"And besides... you spent several months here yourself after your accident, so we assumed that was why you came back."

For a moment, I genuinely thought I had heard him wrong.

My confusion deepened instantly.

What the hell was he talking about?

This was supposed to be Harold’s home.

How had Harold’s house suddenly turned into a rehabilitation facility overnight?

"You said I stayed here before?" I asked slowly.

The guard nodded.

"Yes, sir."

I shook my head immediately.

"That is impossible," I answered. "I have never been here before."

The two men exchanged another strange look.

"What I know," I continued firmly, "is that my friend lives here and I usually drop him off at these gates."

Silence followed briefly.

Then the older guard spoke carefully again.

"Sir... you always came here alone."

I laughed immediately.

An awkward, disbelieving laugh.

"No," I corrected him. "Harold was always with me."

The guards looked visibly uncomfortable now.

"Sometimes you parked outside for hours," the younger guard admitted quietly. "Sometimes you sat inside your car talking.’’

I frowned harder.

"Yes," I replied. "Because Harold was there."

The older guard hesitated before speaking again.

"We never saw anyone else with you, sir."

My heartbeat slowed strangely.

"No," I said immediately again. "No, that does not make any sense."

I pushed the car door open before stepping out completely.

Maybe I had the wrong location.

That had to be it.

Because there was absolutely no way I had come here alone all those times.

Harold had always been with me.