Chapter 135 Chapter 135

Chapter 135 Chapter 135
A curt knock on the door interrupted both of them. Denis wasn’t sure if he was grateful or not for the interruption.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Arnold.” Mr. Lay poked his head in, thin hair combed back over his pale head. As always, his eyes were calculating and cold, his gaze sharp enough to cut you. But when his eyes landed on Denis, they softened. “There are urgent matters that need your attention.”
The blonde glanced down at his wristwatch. It was quarter past midnight. “What is it this time?”
Lay walked fully into the room, suited up in a black Hugo Boss with gleaming silver cufflinks. Denis could swear the man slept dressed to the nines. Looking down at himself, noting the rich navy Armani he was dressed in, he supposed the two of them made quite the pair. 
“Since the trip to Japan was pushed back. There have been some… complications in your absence. Nothing, they shouldn’t be able to sort themselves out, of course. But after talking to Mr. Takeda, I do believe his concerns are valid.”
Denis was already getting up, hand smoothing over his shirt and trousers. Sitting down, he’d unbuttoned the suit jacket, showing off the cream white shirt beneath. Now he buttoned up, getting ready for yet another meeting. His Maman stood as well, hands brushing over his shoulders. 
“Give me a minute, I will come join.”
“No,” Denis shook his head, capturing her hand and bringing those cold fingers to his lips. “You’ve been stepping up in my absence. Tonight, you deserve some rest.”
But his Maman just smiled. “Give me five minutes, Denis. Of course I’ll join.”
Something burned in the corner of his eyes as he nodded. “Only if you feel up for it.”
Her hands framed his face, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. “What a magnificent man you have become. Your father could not have wished for a better heir. You make him so proud.”
Mr. Lay led the way as Denis followed in quick strides. Out of the room, into the dark corridors of the manor. He swayed as he forced his legs to keep propelling him forward, his vision blurry as he traced the straight back of the man ahead of him. He wished there was a brief interlude where he could collapse, where he could fix the mess that was his head and put everything in perspective. As was, the budding thoughts were crowding him out of his own mind. Panic was barely kept at bay as he walked in the shadows. There was a slight soreness inside of him, his hips painted in blue fingerprints if you looked beneath the clothes. Just this morning, Ravi had been inside of him. But more than that, he had been inside him.
Now the tall lad felt like a dream, reality turning bleak at an alarming speed. He thought he’d been sure, but now, he couldn’t even phantom what the feeling must have been. Something about skipping down the corridor, something about whistling a tune. Something about feeling strong enough to take on the world, to reshape his reality, to take a risk.
But he didn’t feel all that brave anymore. 
Before they stepped into the Head of Arnold's office, the door cracked and the jade reading-light already glowing inside, Mr. Lay stopped. He turned to Denis, his weathered face smoothing as he dipped his head. 
“You’re an excellent student, Mr. Arnold. I always feel a certain fear for the new generations. They don’t have what it takes to heed the old laws and traditions.” His dark eyes glimmered. “Both your mother and I can see you’re like us. You understand the importance. You know old blood is something to covet, not something to forsake.”
He walked ahead, opening the door wider as he begged Denis to step in, a sign of reverence if the blonde had ever seen any. He swallowed the lump lodged in his throat.
“You will be a model Head. Someone the others will follow.”
The words were meant as encouragement, the highest praise the lawyer could give. So why did they feel like jagged rocks thrown at his frail body? With a deep inhale, Denis steadied his crumbling inner, forcing the avalanche to halt as he approached the imposing desk. It was all so familiar to him by now. The grand swivel chair, the shiny mahogany surface of the desktop, the soft carpet beneath his oxfords. He sat, taking his position in the seat of Head of House Arnold. Doing what he was supposed to was not fun, but it was easy, and worse, he was good at it. 
He looked through the papers on his desk, eyes scanning the information as he started focusing on the issue at hand. Soon, Mr. Takeda would call to discuss strategies and ways to move forward. He suspected a trip halfway around the globe was about to be added to his busy calendar. 
Mr. Lay took place on his left side, standing like a proud parent as Denis started marking the excerpt with his Montblanc fountain pen. Jotting down small comments that he would need to discuss with Mr. Takeda. 
Doing this, being a great Head of House, the prodigal son he’d always supposed to be, was frightfully easy. Fulfilling his destiny as he carried on the heavy legacy of tradition and blood. Doing this meant he had his mother’s pride, the high society’s envy, and the world at his fingertips. Focusing on what he could have sadly did not make it easier to forget what he couldn’t have. 
His hand trembled as he underlined a sentence. The dark line was straight except for the middle, a small dip destroying the perfectly executed mark.
That was the damnedest truth, was it not? He could dream away however much he wanted in the dark safety of his own room, or a thousand miles away at Harvard. But in the heart of House Arnold, there was no pretending. Here, the truth was painfully naked. He couldn’t have him. He couldn’t have Ravi.
His computer was finished booting up. The conference call connected.
“Mr. Takeda.” Denis smiled, the stretch of lips hurting. “Ohayou gozaimasu, thank you for meeting with me. Shall we start?”