“What?” Marco asked with dark amusement. “That we caught his son trying to escape? That we stopped him from getting himself killed in the forest? I’m sure he’ll be very upset about our diligence.”
“He’ll be upset about the sexual assault, you sick fucks!” Leo’s voice carried rage that barely masked the fear beneath it. “You think grabbing me like that, touching me like that, is part of your job description? What kind of security guards get off on manhandling their charges?”
“Sexual assault?” Matteo’s voice carried mock confusion. “We stopped a runaway. Nothing more.”
As they approached the cottage, Leo renewed his struggles with impressive determination.
“Put me down, you sadistic bastard!” he demanded, voice raw from shouting. “I can walk on my own two feet.”
Stefano inhaled deeply, winter jasmine now mixed with pine and earth from their struggle in the forest. The cottage ahead pulsed with Leo’s scent—six years of the boy’s presence hadsaturated every surface, every piece of furniture, every inch of fabric. The concentrated fragrance hit Stefano like a physical blow, making his grip tighten possessively on Leo’s thighs.
“Maybe I enjoy the view from here,” Stefano replied, his hand sliding dangerously close to Leo’s ass. “And the feel.”
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Leo snapped. “When my father hears how his security detail is treating me like a caveman’s conquest, you’ll be lucky if he lets you keep your hands, let alone your jobs.”
“Your father hired us,” Marco reminded him, voice carrying dark amusement. “To keep you safe by any means necessary.”
“And groping is in the job description? Fascinating. You should unionize—demand hazard pay for the psychological damage of having to touch an omega. Must be so difficult for you.”
Lights blazed on inside as they reached the porch steps, and Stefano reluctantly set Leo on his feet, keeping one hand firmly wrapped around his upper arm. The boy immediately jerked away, staggering backward until his spine hit the porch railing.
“Take off your masks,” Leo demanded, amber eyes burning with fury as he glared at the three of them. “Show me your faces so I can properly visualize them when I’m designing your personalized torture chambers. I’m thinking something medieval for you.” He nodded toward Stefano. “Maybe an iron maiden, but with the spikes aiming for especially sensitive areas.”
Stefano tilted his head, studying the magnificent creature before them. Even disheveled and defeated, Leo radiated defiance—chin lifted, shoulders squared, eyes blazing with promises of retribution.
“So you can what?” Marco asked, amusement evident in his voice despite the modulator. “Add us to your hit list? I’m touched by the attention.”
“I don’t need a list,” Leo spat. “I have an excellent memory for people who deserve creative dismemberment. And trust me, you three just secured yourselves VIP slots in my revenge fantasies.”
“Bold threats for someone who couldn’t make it to the road,” Matteo stated flatly, holding up the confiscated backpack like evidence in a trial.
The door flew open before Leo could respond, revealing Akiko’s worried face. Her expression shifted from concern to shock when she took in the scene before her—three masked security personnel surrounding her disheveled charge.
“Leo-kun!” she gasped. “What happened?”
Leo opened his mouth, no doubt to launch into a scathing account of his mistreatment, but Marco cut him off smoothly.
“Your charge decided midnight hiking was a good idea,” he explained, voice professionally neutral despite the hunger still coursing through his system. “Complete with provisions for an extended absence.”
Leo straightened his clothes with as much dignity as he could muster, though Stefano noticed the careful way he avoided touching the spot on his neck where masked lips had marked him. The sight of that subtle movement sent another surge of possessive satisfaction through his veins.
“With survival gear,” Matteo added, holding up Leo’s confiscated backpack. “Very thorough planning.”
Akiko’s face crumpled with disappointment. “Leo, how could you?—”
“He could have been killed,” Stefano interrupted, his masked gaze never leaving Leo’s furious face. In the cottage light, the boy looked even more beautiful—flushed with anger, hair disheveled from their struggle, amber eyes promising vengeance. “Or worse. You understand there are people who would payhandsomely for an unprotected omega, particularly one of his… quality.”
Leo’s eyes widened at the implication, a flash of genuine fear breaking through his anger before being quickly suppressed.
“Oh please,” he scoffed, though his voice carried the slightest tremor. “Don’t pretend you’re concerned for my welfare. I’m sure kidnappers would treat me with more dignity than being thrown over someone’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.”
“I told you,” Akiko began, reaching for Leo’s arm, “the forest is dangerous at night?—”
“Watch him more carefully,” Stefano ordered, the authority in his voice making it clear he wasn’t merely a hired guard following protocol. “His father would be… displeased if anything happened to his little wildcat. Next time he runs, we might not be the ones who catch him.”
Leo’s eyes narrowed at Stefano’s tone and the condescending pet name. “Who exactly are you to give orders about me?” he demanded. “My father’s rent-a-thugs don’t usually speak with such familiarity about their employer. Unless there’s something I should know about your… professional relationship with daddy dearest?”
Stefano stepped closer, close enough that Leo had to tilt his head back to maintain defiant eye contact. “Someone who understands your value better than you do,” he murmured, voice pitched for Leo’s ears alone. “Remember that, little wildcat.”
