There was one thing that became very apparent in the following weeks. I was being punished for refusing, but not so obviously that one might say I was. It was a subtle sort of backstabbing that at first glance I might think was coincidence.

The first was when my phone went missing. I could have put it down somewhere. I was almost positive that I hadn't though. Maybe if I was still high sometimes, I could have brushed it off as a momentary lapse. But Sasha wasn't letting me touch the stuff.

I told him that it was gone. He gave me a look and said he would try to track it down. Not sure how he'd do that if he was still at my side all the time. He never seemed to leave, like a real shadow these days.

He found it, and it was shattered. The case had been removed and both the back and screen were toastatos. Gonza. It was so cracked it might as well be higher than a kite. I was disappointed, but I'd get over it.

It was when I asked for a new phone that I started to realise things were fishy. They said no. Or rather my father just glared at me and walked away without saying anything. That meant no usually.

Sasha came to my rescue that time and reminded my parents that I required a phone to be tracked by the security team and be reminded to keep appointments with him.

I had physiotherapy for my leg three times a week. I had tutoring twice a week. Add on the outings my parents insisted I attend, and I was actually busier than I'd ever been before.

I felt exhausted, but they would still insist on my being there for work dinners. It didn't seem to matter that it was a school day, that I had spent an hour at physio, and then had to dress and go directly to some fancy restaurant to behave like the heir I ostensibly was.

I was annoyed each time they ordered me around lately, because it was usually in the most derogatory way they possibly could. Like talking to wall instead of looking at me, or looking at their phone the whole time.

Or how about sending texts to Sasha and 'conveniently forgetting to tell me' about their plans for me. I actually admit I somewhat missed their abrupt texts or sending the car unexpectedly.

When they took my gaming consoles away though, that was really the last straw. I stood there in disbelief as I looked at the blank space where my television and console racks were once sitting. Blank as in gone. Missing.

"What the hell is going on?" I muttered to myself. I looked over as Sasha came in the room and pointed at the empty wall. "Is this my punishment from you? Because I will totally take it if that is the case, but you usually warn me first."

"No. This was not me." Sasha said with a furrowed brow. He watched me look back at the wall in confusion.

"May I be excused to go ask about this?" I requested politely. Normally this was the time that I would shower after physiotherapy and get into my pajamas to do homework.

"You may." He replied. I took no time in barreling out of the room to find someone to ask. First I asked the security guy out in the hall, but he said he just started his shift. I asked the cleaning staff I ran into, but she said it was gone that morning, and to ask the head butler.

So I went down and asked him. His reply was puzzling. He said that my parents were putting together a games room, like 'Master Christopher' had in his house. They were adamant that it should all be moved down to the new space immediately.

When I went to the room that was designated though, I bit my lip in anger. It was in the beginning stages of being built. You could tell. My things were tarped off to the side as shelving were being built along one wall.

The carpet was ripped up. The walls had been stripped down and new mouldings were going in. Three guys in coveralls were hauling in wood after ripping pieces out in the shop at the garage.

Why was my stuff taken out if it wasn't even close to being finished? I had a sinking feeling I knew. It was just another ploy from those two to make my life miserable. I wasn't stupid. They were underhanded like that.

I went back to my room without a bounce in my step. It was too tiring dealing with them. I wanted a joint. I wanted to lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling. I wanted... a hug. Yeah, that was probably better.

Sasha took one look at me when I came in the door and shut it, and he came over to wrap his arms around me. I buried my face in the smooth fabric of his suit. I breathed in the scent that was him, letting it soothe me.

He didn't say a word. His hand came up to stroke my head. I wanted to bury myself inside his clothing. The warmth of his body was so tempting to me with all the annoyance and frustration swirling around my head.

I wanted to press my lips against his skin. I wished he would pick me up and push me down on the bed. I could work out my irritation the 'old fashioned' way as old as time. Just imagining a good hard fucking was making me harder than a steel pole.

"Lukas, what happened?" His voice was deep and demanding. I looked up at him, my eyes slightly unfocused with my thoughts.

"Excuses. Nothing but excuses." I mumbled. He looked at me askance. I shook my head. "They are making a games room. My stuff is all downstairs."

"Now? We will work on your homework and see later about it then." He decided. I nodded, knowing there was no way that amount of work would be done in time.

"Yes sir." I followed our routine. Sasha's eyes followed me the whole time, the concern in them warming the cold feeling in my chest. The tutor had helped me through the worst of my homework yesterday, so it took no time at all to finish.

Dinner was a quiet affair in the kitchen. I poked at my grilled salmon and vegetables dejectedly. Sasha was blessedly understanding of my mood. He ate and chatted with the other workers, silently looking over at me now and then.

"Come. Let's see if it is ready." He said to me after I put our dishes in the dishwasher machine. The chef threw me a sympathetic look, and that told me all I needed to know. It wasn't ready.

I was right. It was definitely not ready. Not even close to ready. It was a bloody mess is what it was. Half the shelving done, the walls drying with plaster patches, the cans of paint on the side foretelling the work to come.

"What am I going to do for the next four hours before bed? I was right in the middle of beating that game on insane mode." I pouted and looked over to Sasha pleadingly. He sighed and stared back at me.

"You could read." He stated shortly. I made a face and shook my head.

"No no no. I don't have anything new or interesting to read. I've read them all here. I could have ordered something if I knew, but now I have nothing!" I flopped against the wall dramatically and sighed. I banged my head on the wall and Sasha frowned thoughtfully.

"Fine. Do you want your reward now?" He watched my expression turn from pitiful to eager in seconds.

"Really? I can have my reward? What is it?" I wasn't sure why I was whispering, but my hands almost automatically balled into little fists of excitement.

"Come along." Was all he said. It was mysterious and I couldn't help my curiosity as I walked down the hall behind him. He took me through twists and turns that I had never been to before. A few people we passed by looked at me strangely and then shrugged on their way.

We came to a rather plain looking hall with a older fashioned style fixture that illuminated the faded blue doors. The one we stopped outside of had the number seventy-one engraved on a plaque at the middle-top.

"This is..." I stared at the door in confusion. He grinned a bit and took out a key. He showed it to me, before opening the door. I didn't know what I expected, but the drab looking room that was reminiscent of a hotel room was not it.

The carpet was grey. The furniture was that glaring yellow oak from the eighties retro cottages. The only thing tolerable in the room was the warm looking black comforter on the bed. Even the television was small and ancient.

"Welcome to my humble abode." He declared and stepped inside. My eyes widened. This was his room? Oh my god! This was his room!! I was so excited I hopped a few times before going inside.

"Is this really your room? Wow! That's so cool. I thought you lived somewhere else. It's kinda small isn't it? It smells good in here." I was grinning as I walked around, picking up a small frame with a picture of people standing with Sasha inside.

"Thank you." His dry voice and raised brow had me giggling softly.

"Who's this?" I raised the frame and he took it from me.

"Petrykin Family. That is mama, nana, sestra and brat'ya." He pointed to the people in the photograph before putting it down. I was hard as a rock from listening to his sexy accent.

"Tell me something else like that." I begged as I sat on the edge of his bed looking up at him.

"Net. Sit properly there." He pointed to the top of the bed and walked to the television. I watched him turn it on and reach underneath for something. My eyes were shining with joy when he handed me the controller.

"Video games?" I clutched it to my chest and bit my lips. He rolled his eyes.

"You better not mess up my high score."

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