This emotion is also familiar, and though I rarely experience it with Master, it is not so hard to articulate. “Betrayed.”
Master nods in understanding. “I considered telling you in New York.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t want your first glimpse of Bernini to be with this knowledge hanging over your head.”
Though I don’t want to acknowledge it, it makes sense. Our special moments would have been bittersweet if I’d known about Master’s intentions.
“How long have you been making these plans?” Surely, he knew when I asked him if he had one. So, how long before?
“When we spoke about the family business, and you told me your feelings about it, I realized that I love you more than I love being a boss, and I was relieved by what you said, because if you didn’t want it, then I could give up the family business and keep you to myself. So, I decided I would get out, either by breaking up the organization and selling it off in pieces or transferring ownership and keeping only a percentage of the profits. The party I hosted was my attempt to feel out potential buyers.”
This makes sense to me. Master is a shrewd businessman above all else.
“Are you mad at me for killing Salvatore Tagliarini?” I certainly screwed up his prospects if nothing else.
Master takes a moment to spit on the cobblestones to dishonor the name. “I’m grateful every day that you did what you did. You did exactly as I would have wanted. He would have taken you from me and...” Master doesn’t finish and he doesn’t need to. I shudder at the nascent nightmares trying to claw their way back into my consciousness as he continues, “I’ve killed for you, Giovanni. Did you know that?”
“Yes.” We don’t talk about that time, don’t even think about it.
“I would do it again.” Master wipes his mouth, no doubt distressed by the memories of the condition he found me in, both at the apartment and later in the park. My abusers, including my mother, were nearly identical in their utter disregard for my humanity. “I want to make a clean break without leaving behind enemies. I don’t want anyone to have cause to go looking for me. Or for you either.”
“And your brother is, what? A babysitter? A rent-a-Dom?”
Master gives me a sharp look. He doesn’t like me being flippant in these types of conversations.
“My brother is the only man I trust to look out for you, to protect you.”
“Does he even like fucking men?”
“Yes. He’s not a Dominant, but I believe he could be a good one with proper training. I think he’d enjoy it. He’s shown some interest in the past.”
“So, you figured you’d just pay him to spank me while you’re gone?”
“Watch your tone, young man,” Master warns, and it makes me feel better, more grounded. I need him to enforce the boundaries even when we’re not in our Master/slave roles. “I’m not paying him. I told him the situation and he volunteered to stay here with you. He likes you, and he likes the idea of spending time with you. You’re very pleasant to be around when you behave, and you’re not hard to look at.”
He’s flattering me, but I’m not ready to be charmed just yet.
“And I’m supposed to just fall in line?”
Master deliberates. “I have often wondered if I claimed you too soon.”
I don’t know if he means that I’m immature or too young for him or some combination of the two. “As far as I’m concerned, you didn’t claim me soon enough.”
“Because I have changed you, Giovanni,” he continues. “I’ve transformed you into what I would want in a boy, in a slave.”
“And I have been willing—enthusiastically consenting—every step of the way.”
“How would you know otherwise?” he asks, which is insulting and even he must know it.
“Does Master think for his slave now too, determine this slave’s interior thoughts and emotions?”
“Gio,” he says, but I don’t wish to pursue the paths not taken, most of which wind up with me dead or a slave to my addiction. I’m on the path I desire, theonlypath, alongside my Master.
“How long will you be gone?”
“A few months.”
