I shook my head too fast and sank onto the couch. The cushions swallowed me, smooth leather that smelled faintly of cedar. She walked over and sat beside me, turning so she could face me fully. Her eyes were sharp but not unkind.

How could I even start? Tell her I'd gotten Delilah pregnant? Tell her I'd been losing myself to something invisible, something that made me think about control more than connection? The words jammed in my throat.

I linked my hands together, elbows on my knees. The room felt too large, too perfect. I didn't fit into this place, not with my secondhand sneakers and my past that smelled like cheap cigarettes.

"I think I'm just a little lost," I said finally. "Everything changed so fast. One day I was sleeping in a rundown apartment, now I'm here."

"That's okay," she said quietly. "We can help you adjust."

"I don't need help," I said, shaking my head. "If anything, I should be the one helping."

Her eyebrows drew together. "And why do you think that?"

"I don't know," I said, searching for the right words. "I've had people pulling me out of the mud my whole life. Everyone helping me, saving me, forgiving me. I can't stand it anymore. I want to be the one fixing things for once."

She frowned. "Fixing what?"

"Everything," I said before I could stop myself. "With this system, I should be helping people. Not the other way around."

"System?" she asked.

I hesitated. "Just… a way I organize myself. Trying to get my life together."

"That still doesn't explain why you won't accept help."

"Because," I said, standing suddenly, "I feel small."

Her tone sharpened. "You see me as small, Evan? Without your help, I'd still be under my brother's control. You think I'm weak?"

"No, that's not what I meant."

"Then what?"

I took a step toward the window, my reflection ghosting over the skyline. "I meant that when people help me, I start feeling like I'm not in control of my own life. Like I'm just a passenger. I hate that feeling."

She came closer, voice softening. "Then stop fighting everyone who reaches out. You don't have to prove anything. Not to me, not to anyone."

"I just…" I stopped, searching for the words. "I can't explain it. Not right now."

She placed a hand on my shoulder. Her touch was light, grounding. "Then try. Whatever is eating you up, say it. You don't need to be strong right now. Feel small for once. Be the damsel in distress."

I looked at her hand for a long moment before answering. "Let's talk about it with the others too. I owe all of you an explanation."

Her expression eased. "Alright. If that's what you want."

Right on cue, the elevator chimed from the other side of the room. I glanced over just in time to see Jasmine, Kim, and Tessa step out, shaking off umbrellas and laughing about something. Tessa carried a pink pastry box like it was treasure.

I rubbed a hand over my face. I'd forgotten they said they'd stop by.

Nala waved. "Over here."

The girls greeted her, then me, filling the room with chatter and perfume and the smell of rain-damp hair. Jasmine raised the box. "We brought donuts."

"Perfect," Nala said. "Because Evan has something to say."

I blinked. "Wait, what?"

She crossed her arms. "You wanted to talk to all of us, remember? No time like now."

The laughter died out. The girls exchanged quick glances, then took seats around the room. Kim sat cross-legged on the couch across from me, Jasmine leaned against the table, and Tessa dropped into a chair, spinning the donut box on her palm.

I cleared my throat. "Alright… I guess."

Their smiles faded, replaced by quiet curiosity.

"For the last few days," I said slowly, "I've realized I've changed. And not in a way I'm proud of."

Kim frowned. "Changed how?"

"I've been… arrogant," I admitted. "Ever since things started going right, I've been acting like I'm on top of the world. Like I earned every bit of it on my own. When I looked at you, any of you, I stopped seeing the people who helped me and started seeing what I thought I deserved. Like I… own you, I suppose. Which is wrong. I know. But… I'm an idiot."

My voice came out rough.

"When we went to the convention, I couldn't even enjoy it. All I could think about was how far I'd drifted. I've been selfish, prideful, obsessed with myself. And I'm sorry. You didn't sign up for that. None of you did."

They didn't interrupt. They just listened. Rain slid down the glass behind them, the sound steady and soft.

"I don't deserve you," I said. "Any of you. You're good people. I'm just the guy who got lucky. If you're here because you feel like you owe me something, don't. You don't owe me anything."

Silence hung for a few seconds. Then Tessa broke it with a scoff.

"Shut the fuck up." She flipped open the donut box. "Who wants one?"

I blinked. "What?"

Jasmine laughed, grabbing one with pink frosting. "Seriously, Evan. You think we're keeping score?"

Kim smiled, soft and tired. "You told us what's been on your mind. That means you trust us. That's what matters."

I looked between them, unsure if I'd actually heard them right. "Really?"

Nala reached out and took my hand. "Really. You're allowed to lose yourself sometimes. What matters is you come back."

I didn't know telling the truth could feel this light. I didn't know honesty could take weight off my chest instead of adding more.

I smiled a little. "I, uh—hey, leave me donuts for me!"

Tessa handed me one with mock seriousness. "Egotistical bastards who think like horny monkeys get one."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks. Appreciate the charity."

The room filled again with laughter. The tension slipped out of the walls. For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe.

Inside, though, I knew what still waited. I had to fix things with Delilah. Whatever else the world threw at me, that was my mess to clean up.

For now, though, I took a bite of the donut and let myself laugh with them. It felt good to feel normal again, even if it wouldn't last.

❤︎‬‪‪❤︎‬‪‪❤︎

When I got home, everyone had apparently already gone to sleep. All the lights were off, the penthouse silent. I locked the door, walked to the dining table, and peeked around the corner. Good—Minne's old room was empty. Then I headed down the circular hallway and stopped at the closed door where I'd told her to sleep from now on. A faint glow seeped beneath it.

I knocked softly. Moments later the door opened and Minne appeared, wearing a black nightgown and one of those odd facial masks.

"Master," she murmured. "Sorry I answered like this."

"No worries," I replied. "You doing okay?"

"Yes." She rolled her shoulder and winced. "I… never mind."

"What is it?" I pressed, crossing my arms.

"This morning, while trying to put on my cosplay outfit, I hurt my shoulder. It still aches, Master."

"I can fix that. I give a decent massage, believe it or not."

"Really?" She shook her head while removing the mask. "I can't ask you to do that. I'm here to serve, not the other way around."

I chuckled, took her hand, and led her toward the living room. "Stop being so stiff. Come on."

She followed shyly. I gestured for her to sit on the couch, then stepped behind it and opened the Shop. I had enough credits stacked from recent quests; the oil was cheap.

╭────────────────────╮

- SHOP

==========================

• Aphrodisiac Drink (10c)

• Silk Lingerie Set (25c)

• Sensual Massage Oil (15c)

• Mystery Pleasure Toy (30c)

• Flirt Potion (20c)

• Hypnotic Perfume (40c)

• Time Stop (90c)

• 500 Dollars (50c)

• 1 Ability Point (150c)

==========================

- Credits: 40c

- Select item to purchase.

╰────────────────────╯

The bottle materialized in my hand with a faint glow. I popped the cap and glanced at her shoulder. The nightgown strap blocked access.

"Which side hurts?"

"Left, Master."

I eased the strap down. Damn, she was adorable—small perky breasts, petite frame, breath hitching at my touch. But I held back. She'd been through hell with Guy. I wasn't him.

I poured oil into my palm and worked it into her shoulder. The moment it touched skin, she gasped, thighs pressing together, eyes fixed on the floor.

"Thank you for always serving me, Minne," I said, kneading gently. "I noticed you changed the sheets today."

"Y-yes…" Her voice trembled. "Jasmine, Nala, and Master had… dirtied the bed this morning. It's my duty, of course."

Nothing sexual happened between Minne and I. I simply massaged the pain away, letting the oil do its work. In five minutes the bottle was empty, and I was certain she'd climaxed four times. I pretended not to notice.

I tossed the bottle in the trash, washed my hands at the kitchen sink, and returned. Minne still sat frozen.

"You can stand now," I told her.

"I…"

Glancing down, I saw the dark wet patch on the couch… wow. It was wet with her juices. I cleared my throat, stepped in front of her, and offered my hand. She hesitated, face crimson, eyes flicking to the stain, then took it and rose.

As she stood, I spotted a bruise on her shoulder the strap had hidden. Earlier, from behind in the dim light, I'd missed it.

I raised a brow, reached for the strap again. She flinched, one hand flying to cover her head, like I was going to smack her. I paused. When she met my gaze, I slid the strap fully aside. She clutched the gown awkwardly to keep her bra covered.

"What's that?" I asked, shining my phone's flashlight on the mark.

"A… whip scar, Master," she whispered. "When my previous Master got angry, he would…"

"Take off the nightgown," I ordered, voice hard. "Now."

"B-but… Okay, Master."

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