It was a punishment as much as it was meant to be a statement. Silver wanted Nuri to accept that he had full control, wanted him to give up on notions of escape. Knowing this,Nuri had smartly refrained from bringing up the topic of his resignation again. It was in his best interest not to, lest he piss Silver off even more and risk the trip to Vitality getting canceled.
By day four, Nuri finally felt well enough to return to the office, though he was ordered to do everything from his desk. Silver even left his office door open as though to keep an eye on him and ensure he didn’t try to leave.
Staying put seemed to earn him some trust, and by day six, Nuri was allowed to attend meetings in other parts of the building. His bandage was also removed, and he was given a complete bill of health from the doctor.
Silver fucked him particularly rough that night, claiming it was a celebration.
When Nuri mentioned returning to his apartment now that his ankle was healed, Silver disciplined him by going so hard, Nuri actually had to call out sick again the next day because he couldn’t stand on his own.
If someone had told Nuri how easy it would be for him to adapt to this new way of being, he would have laughed in their face. But it was. After only one week, Nuri had been trained into a routine.
Work.
Fuck.
Sleep.
Repeat.
Their conversations outside of the bedroom were almost kept strictly work related, as though they were both afraid of saying the wrong thing and wrecking this tentative truce they’d settled on. Inside the bedroom, Silver whispered filth into the curve of Nuri’s ear and claimed him in more ways than one.
Nuri’s mind might still refuse to believe it, but his body…His body was starting to crave those familiar touches. The feel of Silver unloading within him. Filling him up…
Which was why he needed to pour his focus elsewhere and delve into the problems he could control.
Like solving the mystery of whoever was after Silver.
Fortunately, there hadn’t been any other attacks on warehouses or blackmail videos, but the timing seemed too coincidental for Nuri to rule out that the original hits weren’t connected. There was a very good chance that whoever had secretly filmed Ackor and Silver was also the person responsible for setting up the break-ins.
An employee would be capable of getting their hands on both Silver’s work schedule and a list of distribution centers they used. Nuri had already made his way down the list of those in charge of keeping track of those companies, but no one suspicious had jumped out at him.
He needed more clues to continue.
That’s why he found himself standing outside of Club Spade in the middle of the seventh day, waiting for Romeo Brixton to arrive.
Nuri checked his multi-slate for the time. He needed to be back at the office before Silver’s meeting ended, since this wasn’t exactly something he wanted the Emperor aware of. He knew Nuri had stepped out, of course, because there’d been no way around telling him, but Nuri had leaned heavily on his insistence that it was for work.
Not that it was a lie, because that really was why he was here, it was just, he didn’t think Silver would approve considering the company and the location.
Logically, Nuri acknowledged he probably could have skipped this whole thing by asking the Emperor to bring him here himself, but after a week of playing the dutiful employee/bed partner, something within Nuri must have snapped.
Even though he’d thought about asking Silver, he’d found himself shooting off a text to Romeo all the same, asking if he was still free to meet.
It wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong. Sure, Silver and Romeo didn’t really get along, but Nuri had never been given strict instructions to avoid him. He’d never been ordered to stay away from Club Spade either. Really, the only taboo part of this meeting was the fact it was taking place at a known sex club at all, but that was why he’d wanted Imperial company in the first place.
In the off chance the staff weren’t cooperative, Nuri would need someone with greater authority on his side.
“Nuri.” Romeo stepped out of a hovercar that had just parked in a spot nearby and waved. He was dressed in business casual, and kept a polite distance when he stopped before him. “I’ve got to admit I was surprised when you said you wanted to meet here. What was it that you thought I could help you with? Your message was a bit vague.”
“Mr. Brixton,” he motioned toward the door, “let’s head inside first, shall we?”
“Please, call me like you used to. We’re friends, remember?”
Even if it’d been years, it wasn’t like his request was too much to ask.
“Of course.” Nuri stepped closer to the entrance so that the automatic doors swished open. “Brix.”
A woman greeted them behind the counter, bowing at them before asking how she could be of service.
