All on FIS Poker’s tab.
“What do you say we celebrate?” William suggested as he put the bottles on the table. “You successfully completed your training, right? It’s quite the accomplishment. It can’t go unrewarded.”
Adathan beamed. “Thank you, William. You’re very kind. I already got the best reward, though.”
“Oh?” William uttered as he looked through the kitchenette’s drawers. “What was it?”
“You!”
William let out a nervous chuckle as he headed back to the table, clutching the bottle opener he’d just found. “You barely know me.”
“Then tell me about you,” Adathan said, resting his chin in his palm. He cocked his head and gave William an inviting smile, looking like the textbook definition of active listening.
William frowned as he sat back down. There wasn’t much to say about him—he liked poker, which was obvious, but what else might Adathan want to know?
“What’s your favorite color?” Adathan asked.
“Uh, blue, I think. What’s yours?”
“I like them all, but blue is also my favorite!”
Of course.
William opened all five bottles, placing the caps into a neat pile. He grabbed a craft beer with a beaver wielding wooden nunchucks on the label and gestured at the other bottles. “Pick whichever you like.”
Adathan took the bottle closest to him, which appeared to be some sort of cranberry-flavored cocktail. “What do you like to do to relax?”
William certainly wouldn’t be asking Adathan the same question in return. “Guess I like going to the gym.”
Adathan gasped softly. “You’re an athlete!”
“Nah.” William took a swig of his beer—it was good. Adathan took a swig of his cocktail—no way to tell whether he liked it. “I just want to stay in shape.”
Adathan’s eyes crinkled. “I’m sure you’re impressive. You look very strong.”
William drank some more, needing to wash down the lump of annoyance forming in his throat. Did filthy rich people really enjoy receiving empty praise like that?
Adathan took a drink of his own beverage and set the bottle down without a sound, like it was made of paper instead of glass. “Is there something else you like to do to relax?” he asked.
William tried to answer his question, but he lost his ability to think as the insane reality set in.
How could such an incredible day end this way? After his win, he’d been hoping to relax, perhaps get drunk, and go back home triumphant—ideally with a big pile of cash. Instead, he was stuck in his hotel room trying to make small talk with a slave who believed William was his savior.
Disgust rose in William’s chest as those thoughts crossed his mind—what the hell was wrong with him?
He wasn’t stuck with Adathan; Adathan was stuck with him. Literally.
Williamownedhim.
CHAPTER 3
Precious Doll
William’s brooding was cut short by a knock on the door. “Must be our food,” he said as he stood up, grateful for the distraction.
He opened the door and froze. There was no one on the other side, only an unattended room service trolley. He ignored the chills racing down his spine; this wasn’t a horror movie. Rich people probably just preferred not to interact with staff.
“Wanna watch TV while we eat?” William asked, even though he knew Adathan would agree to anything. He turned and jumped at Adathan’s unexpected proximity.
