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“Then leave,” Fabien says. “Never talk to me again. Cut off all contact with everyone I know, including your brother. Disappear and never see me again. That’s what I want. That would be doing something good for me.”

“Look, I know you’re angry...”

Fabien stops his stride. He turns to me.

“Angry?”

“But even if I disappeared today and vanished from the world, the Elders will know. The Castaways know everything. You will fail your initiation. You’ll never be a member of the Order.”

I could mention his father, and about what he would’ve wanted for Fabien. But that would be like pressing the nuclear button.

He starts pacing again, this time up and down the central living room space, dried blood still clinging to his cheeks, chaotic as he still processes what’s happened.

“I won’t fight you,” I say after him. “I won’t make this worse. We get through it. For you, and for me. It’s just seven days.”

He growls again and then storms to the sole bedroom in the penthouse.

“There’s only one bed in here,” he remarks, staring into the room.

“Of course there is,” I whisper. “One bed. Typical Castaways. They’ve set this up so deliciously.”

He turns back to me, eyes flat.

“One fucking bed. For the both of us.”

There’s a pause as we both take it in. How close we will have to be. What that might mean.

“We have no choice,” I say. “We have to sleep together. It’s what they want.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“We sleep,” I reply softly. “We behave. We give them nothing to punish us with. We get through this week.”

His jaw tightens.

“I don’t want to breathe the same air as you. How could I even share the same sheets?”

“They are always watching,” I say. “You know that. It’s in their Code.”

The man turns and marches up to me. He looms over me, his breath hot against my skin. His hands are fists at his sides.

I swallow.

“Don’t try to intimidate me,” I snap at him. “Don’t advance on me like some macho alpha man. It ain’t gonna work.”

I’m being facetious. We may have our... history, but I know he’ll never lay a bad finger on me.

But I’m sick and tired of his masculine antics in this penthouse. This primate-level crap men love to perform. I want him to stop and listen to what I’m saying.

“You know what I’ve done since that email?” Fabien asks me quietly, refusing to step away. “You know what I have built? The respect I have earned? The money I have made in an industry I was told there was no money in? The men I’ve had to crush, all to get to where I am today? And now I have to do this? With you?”

“I know,” I reply. I’m trying to remain calm. I don’t want to stoop to his level. “This will be hard, but I’m doing this for my own father. And I also know what this means for you. And then you can get your wish. I’ll disappear. You’ll never see me again.”

Fabien shakes his head, walks back to the bedroom, and sits down on the bed. He sighs. Shaken.

I watch him for a moment.

His poor face.