Chapter 4 KAI

I think I'm here for the break in. That's the only thing that makes sense.

I have trespassed so many times, but never got caught. Not once. This time I knew I'd be the luckiest bastard if my actions didn't come back to bite my ass.

So I prepare. In my head, I already run through versions of it, explanations that will make sense, just anything to keep me out of jail. None of them feel good enough.

Immediately I step inside, I know I have misread the room. My attention first goes to him-- Sebastian Whitlock, heir of a multimillion dollar family empire, a family that's only seen in magazines and news headlines.

He looks at me like I have offended him just by existing in his line of sight. I almost laugh at that, because I've seen that look before countless times. It's typical with people who live in houses like this.

"You've got to be kidding," he says, his voice sharp with disbelief more than anger. His gaze flicks to his parents. "This is the guy?"

A frown instantly takes root on my face. I have no clue what's going on. I came in expecting formal accusations about the break in or whatever version of me got reported up the chain, but the way he says it doesn't fit any of that.

It isn't aimed at me like I have done something in this moment. It's aimed at his parents. And the fact that they don't react immediately tells me everything I need to know. Whatever this is, I've walked into it halfway through.

I clear my throat, trying to ground myself. "Um... hi," I say awkwardly, and all three of them turn to me at once. "So, before you make any decision... if this is about the incident yesterday, I can explain."

"It's not about that," the woman cuts in.

"It's not?" I repeat.

"No. Not entirely," she says simply.

That addition hangs in the air anyway. The man gestures slightly toward the chair. "You should take a seat."

"I'm good. I prefer standing," I say instead, staying where I am. It's safer this way just in case I need to bolt. Not that I would get far. I feel like there are invisible eyes guarding this place.

Sebastian scoffs, stepping forward. "This guy doesn't look like he knows the basic rules of human decency, let alone be whatever you want him to be."

My eyebrows lift to him before I can stop them. What in the world are they talking about?

His mother's gaze sharpens. "And you do?" she asks. "Whose name is currently trending for all the wrong reasons?"

That stops him. His jaw tightens and his hands flex at his sides like he might hit something.

I take a breath. Nothing about this fits in any category I understand yet so I cut through it. "So... why am I actually here?"

Everyone looks at me like I have spoken out of turn. Sebastian glances at me again but I don't focus on him. I'm watching the man with the file, because he is the one who looks like he is about to say something that starts to make sense. He opens the file and starts reading.

"Malakai Lawson," he begins.

Hearing my full name like that feels strange. I don't recall the last time anyone called me by my full name.

"You have no relevant attachments to the public," he continues. "No obligations, no family background, no sustainable job, no... nothing important to your name."

"Okay," I say lightly. "I'm starting to feel like I should be offended."

The woman doesn't acknowledge that. She takes over as if I haven't spoken. "We are offering you an opportunity that will benefit both you and us."

That makes me pause. It is not what I expected to hear. "What kind of opportunity?" I ask carefully, glancing at each of them in turns.

There is a pause before she answers. "You are going to be our son's boyfriend for the summer," she says calmly.

For a second, I genuinely think I misheard her. Then I laugh, the sound echoing in the vastness, because that sentence can't be real. A boyfriend for the summer?

It's absurd enough that I think I'm inside a comedy show, but when I look at her again, the laughter dies halfway. She isn't testing me. She is dead serious.

I backpedal. "What?"

"You will accompany our son to all required public engagements," she says, her tone measured. "You will be seen with him consistently at events, outings, any situation where visibility matters."

She doesn't look at me like she is asking, which makes me aware of how powerless I am here.

"You will not deviate from what is expected of you. There will be no unnecessary attention drawn to your personal life, no behavior that compromises the image we are presenting. What exists between you and Sebastian will be curated."

I'm too stunned to speak, so I keep listening even though I'm not sure I'm following.

"You will remain in close proximity for the duration of this arrangement. That includes residence." She holds out an envelope toward me. "Everything else you need to know is outlined here in detail. Terms, expectations, conditions. It has all been made clear."

I glance at Sebastian without meaning to. He looks like he wants to leave the room but refuses to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him do it. This was never about me at all. No one even asked if I like guys or not.

Before I touch it, I ask, "And if I say no?"

This time, it is the man who speaks. "We are aware of the circumstances surrounding your recent entry onto our property," he says calmly. "And other incidents that would not reflect well if reviewed in detail."

So that's it. I exhale slowly, staring at the envelope now instead of them. This kind of family doesn’t just threaten you. They make sure you spend every day of your miserable life wishing they killed and buried you instead.

"And I think what is inside there will matter more to you than refusing this arrangement," the woman adds.

"This is insane. You have all lost your damn minds," Sebastian huffs, then turns and storms out.

No one stops him. The sound of his footsteps echo until he disappears upstairs. Silence returns and now it's just me standing in the middle of something that feels more of a nightmare than a dream.

It takes a second to process it fully, trying to understand how that makes sense. I look around again. This place, these conditions, and him storming out like he doesn't want anything to do with it. And I'm supposed to live here with him? All to avoid going to jail? I'm not sure it's worth it.

I sigh and open the envelope anyway. First glance on the first page, I freeze at the figure written there. A hundred thousand dollars upfront.

My brain stalls completely, then restarts too fast. My throat goes dry. I blink at it again, thinking it might change but it doesn't. These are real numbers written in black ink. Not punishment but payment.

My fingers tighten slightly around the page.

Heat creeps up my neck, a warning signal my body is sending to my brain. This is too much money for something simple. Which means it isn't simple.

But also...100k upfront? I feel that small, dangerous recalculation in my head. I can deal with him. Maybe. He is just attitude, anger, and control issues wrapped in privilege. I've dealt with worse people who had less money involved. And there will be rules and scripts to follow with boundaries.

My fingers hover over the paper. My heart is moving too fast now I think it might burst. I exhale once and smile before I realize.

"So," I say lightly. "When do I start?"

"Today," she says. "You have a few hours to prepare before the gala tonight. Someone will help you get ready."