“May I assist you with anything else, Mr. Mitchell?”
“No.”
“On behalf of Eden Serviteurs, I wish you a wonderful night.”
“You look tense, William,” Adathan said, cocking his head. “Do you need me to help you relax?”
William hung up. “I’m fine. Just gotta go to the reception desk. I’ll be right back.”
He grabbed the keycard and headed toward the door. He caught a glimpse of the broken bottle and stopped dead in his tracks. “You have my permission to sit or lie down anywhere youwant. You’re also allowed to watch TV and relax. I forbid you from cleaning the mess. I’ll have someone else do it. You’re not allowed to feel bad about it, either.”
“Yes, William!”
William left the room, letting out a sharp breath as soon as he closed the door.
Four hundred thousand dollars. Ten years’ worth of his data entry job salary. He could pay off his debts to his mom and considerably improve Oliver’s life.
Adathan’s panicked eyes appeared in William’s head—empty yet brimming with deep, ancient trauma. Could he really send him back to those monsters?
William stepped into the elevator and leaned against the handrail. He couldn’t realistically keep Adathan, either. Despite his hatred of Richard, William had to admit he wasn’t mistaken. After all, Richard’s remarks hurt because they were always true.
How would William clothe and feed Adathan when he was already living paycheck to paycheck?
With four hundred thousand dollars in his bank account, though...
William stepped into the hotel lobby, the sight of the massive crystal chandelier pulling him out of his musings. Smooth jazz filled the air, along with soothing scents that reminded him of a massage parlor. Neither did anything to help him relax.
He walked past a man with a much younger woman on his arm, his impeccable suit and her elegant black dress making William’s sweatshirt feel like nettle against his skin. He picked up the pace and circled the marble fireplace, grateful to find the partially obscured chair he’d noticed earlier unoccupied.
William plopped down and grabbed his phone.
? William:The slave company called me
Relief washed over him as Oliver immediately replied.
? Oliver:On your phone? How did they get your number?
? William:I think the poker dude said something about Adathan being registered in my name the moment I won
? Oliver:You *think*?
? William:I wasn’t paying attention, I was too busy watching my life crumble to pieces get pissed on and catch on fire
William sighed as his phone rang. So much for keeping his emotions in check.
“Why did they call you?” Oliver asked.
“They said I got Adathan by mistake. I was supposed to get someone called Gabriel, apparently.”
“So, Adathan was destined for someone else?”
“Y—No . . . well . . .”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
William buried his face in his hand. “They said Adathan was defective.”
“Defective?” Oliver echoed, his outrage palpable from across the country.
