“How many do you have, anyway?” he asked, desperate to change the subject. “Some people say your mom has ten kids, some say she has, like, fourteen. What’s the real number?”
“I have four sisters.”
“And a brother? The one from the office, right?” Seven asked.
Six kids sounded far more reasonable than some of the other wild stories he’d heard.
Enzo scoffed. “I wish. I have seven brothers.”
“Seven!” he shouted, then winced, lowering his voice. “You’re telling me that gorgeous woman gave birth to twelve kids?Twelve? Some of them are adopted, right? Or step-siblings? Something?”
Enzo laughed. “You have nine siblings. Why is this so shocking to you?”
That’s right. Enzo knew his father. Somehow, that just made this all so much worse. Did he feel sorry for him or something?
“No,” Seven clarified. “My dad knocked up ten different women, all of whom hate each other, but still somehow love him. They’re not my siblings. I probably pass one on the street every week and couldn’t pick them out of a line-up. Whereas your mom chose to get pregnant twelve times.”
Enzo chuckled. “Would you feel better if I told you that she has two sets of fraternal twins and a set of fraternal triplets, oneof whom you just met? So, that cuts down greatly on the amount of pregnancies.”
“Wow. That’s…is that normal? To have that many…multiples?” Seven asked.
Enzo shrugged. “It is when you do IVF. Though, Dante and Rafa were pre-fertility treatments. So...”
Seven’s stomach churned. He’d wanted to change the subject, but talking so casually about their families made this a little too cozy considering Enzo was trying to train him to be his new whore. Or whatever the hell it was Enzo was proposing.
He hated this. Maybe he would have found it funny if he’d had any clue what Enzo had in mind when he asked him to lunch or if Stanley hadn’t shit all over his night again. When Seven had hit the older man up last night, he’d just been testing the waters, hoping for one more night, maybe. When he’d invited him to lunch, Seven had let his guard down.
Like an idiot.
“Why me?” Seven blurted, the words punched from his soul.
He shouldn’t even be entertaining this. He should just get up and leave. But he’d always been a glutton for punishment. Why not stay and let the man insult him some more?
Enzo leaned forward. “Because I need someone who knows all about my…extracurricular activities.”
Seven’s stomach sank. It was starting to make more sense, but not in any way he wanted. He sighed internally. Of course, that was why Enzo wanted to play with him. Convenience.
Seven’s face must have told Enzo he wanted a further explanation.
“In the past, our families have simply existed in the same circles, with everyone agreeing to assist if or when necessary. But now, it seems like my mom is making in-roads with both Jericho and Thomas.”
“And that has what to do with me?” Seven asked, the tips of his ears on fire.
Enzo leaned in. “You get what it’s like. You’ll understand when I have to do something outside of the law. You’ll understand when I have to cancel plans. You know what it’s like to live two lives. You want a Daddy, and I want to play with someone I don’t have to lie to.” He shrugged. “Unless you’re not interested.”
“Interested in being your contracted sugar baby that you can ditch whenever you feel like it? Gosh, while that does sound tempting, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.”
“That’s not what this is,” Enzo assured him.
“Oh, so it would be a relationship?” Seven challenged, arching a brow at him.
“Of sorts,” Enzo hedged.
Seven snorted. “Talk about the bare minimum.”
“You don’t want to even consider it?” Enzo asked, looking hurt, like Seven not wanting to be his own private sex slave was making him sad.
“Do a lot of boys take you up on this offer?” Seven asked. “Do they jump at the chance to be treated like shit by you?”
