Chapter 30: A Different Kind of Comfort

Chapter 30: Chapter 30: A Different Kind of Comfort

~Frederick’s POV~

Slowly, without a word, I reached out. I gently took his trembling hand in mine, my fingers wrapping securely around it, and pulled him closer.

"Let’s go," I murmured, my voice thick and unsteady. "Let’s go to my room."

He took my hand and followed me. We walked the short distance down the corridor to the heavy oak door of my master suite. I pressed my thumb against the biometric scanner, and the deadbolts clicked open.

We stepped inside, entering the spacious upper level of my suite. A large open area sat between the entrance and the staircase, with a lounge and seating area overlooking the lower level. I led Reynold across the space and toward the wide staircase.

We walked down the steps together and entered the main bedroom area below. The massive, low-framed bed sat at the center of the room, surrounded by elegant furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.

Before I could even open my mouth to speak, Reynold stopped. He looked at me, his shoulders trembling beneath his cropped shirt.

"I’m sad... I’m really sad right now," he whispered, his voice breaking. "You should try to understand me, Frederick. If you really see me as nothing, then one day you’ll just get tired of me, throw me away, and never look back—even before the contract ends. But if you care about me, even just a little, you’ll still come back to check on me. I really have no one. No family who cares about me. Why does no one care about me unless they want something from me? I’m a good person..."

He started crying, the quiet, broken sound cutting straight through my chest.

Watching him stand there, looking so small and defeated, something inside me shifted. He wasn’t even fully aware of what he was saying anymore. It was as if years of hurt and loneliness had finally caught up with him, spilling out all at once.

He had been suffering since he was a baby, taking the blame for things he never did. He had done nothing wrong, yet the people around him had spent his entire life making him feel like he was unwanted.

Looking at him, I understood what was happening. I had enough knowledge of psychology to recognize the signs: the fear of abandonment, the need for reassurance, and the way years of neglect could make someone desperately cling to the first person who made them feel wanted.

Reynold wasn’t only afraid of the contract ending. He was afraid that I would eventually get tired of him and throw him away. To him, I had become someone he could depend on, someone he believed might still be in his life long after those legal terms expired.

The thought of me seeing him as nothing more than a tool frightened him because, if I discarded him too, he believed there would truly be no one left for him.

I closed the remaining distance between us and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Hey... It’s okay," I murmured, resting my chin against his hair. "Please don’t cry like this. You’re going to make yourself sick. I’m sorry, Reynold. I never meant to make you feel this way." I held him a little tighter. "You’re going to be okay. I promise. Alright?"

He pulled back just enough to look up at me, his red, swollen eyes searching my face with desperate insecurity. "You’re... you’re not leaving me, right?"

"No," I answered without a fraction of hesitation. "I’m not leaving you."

A shuddering breath hitched in his throat. He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, burying his face in my chest.

"I’m sorry... okay?" he whispered, his voice still trembling with tears.

"You don’t have to apologize. You haven’t done anything wrong," I assured him.

I pulled back slightly and lifted my thumb to gently wipe the wet tracks of tears from his cheeks. My heart ached.

"Mmh... little pet, how do I make this up to you? And no, I’m not talking about money. Tell me what you want. What can I do to make you feel better?"

I looked into his tear-filled eyes, waiting for his answer.

He shook his head slowly, too exhausted to come up with anything.

"Do you like the ocean? Nature?" I asked softly.

He blinked through his tears and nodded.

"How about we go to one of my private islands?" I suggested. "By morning, you could be breathing completely different air, far away from all of this."

His eyebrows pulled together in surprise. "When?"

"Right now. If you say yes, I’ll have them prepare the helicopter immediately."

Reynold stared at me, a small, fragile smile touching the corners of his lips. "We’re taking a helicopter?" he asked softly.

"Yes," I murmured, smiling gently down at him. "So, what do you say? Should we go?"

He nodded, a little firmer this time. "Yes."

"Alright. But first, you need to change your clothes. It’s going to be very cold out there on the coast."

"Alright," he whispered.

"And stop crying, okay?"

He gave a small, obedient nod, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

"Let me make a call and get the flight crew moving."

"Alright," he murmured.

I pulled out my phone and called the head of my estate’s domestic and aviation departments, giving him instructions to prepare the private helicopter for an immediate departure.

While everything was being arranged, I walked over to the expansive walk-in closet and pulled out a soft, oversized deep navy-blue hoodie and matching sweatpants for Reynold. I chose a white matching set for myself as well.

I walked back to the bedroom and gently helped him out of the clothes he had worn to the party before dressing him in the soft layers. As the warm fabric settled around his aching body, I could almost see the tension leaving his shoulders. The small look of relief on his face didn’t escape me.

Once we were both dressed, I packed a small overnight bag with the essentials, then took Reynold’s hand and led him toward the private rear service elevator. The helicopter was waiting on the back lawn, and the rear elevator was the closest route from this side of the house. We rode it straight down and stepped out onto the path leading toward the helicopter.

The moment we stepped outside, the heavy thrum of rotor blades filled the night air.

Two of my bodyguards immediately approached us from the landing pad. Both of them bowed their head and reached for our small leather bags.

"Sir, everything is prepared. The flight plan has been cleared," the head guard reported.

"Good. Keep the estate secured while I’m away," I instructed.

I tightened my grip around Reynold’s hand as we walked toward the helicopter waiting on the pad. Its cabin lights cast a warm glow across the dark grass.

The door was already open, with the steps lowered. I helped Reynold climb inside first and eased him into the plush leather seat at the back before sliding in beside him. I pulled the heavy cabin door shut, sealing out most of the deafening roar of the rotors.

The pilot turned around from the cockpit and gave us a crisp nod before handing me our aviation headsets.

I took them and turned to Reynold. His eyes were still pink and heavy with exhaustion.

I gently placed the headset over his head, adjusting it until it sat comfortably over his ears, then positioned the microphone near his mouth. Once I had mine on as well, the overwhelming noise outside faded into a much softer hum.

After the final clearance came through, the helicopter lifted from the pad. It hovered for a moment before tilting forward and climbing into the night sky.

As we flew higher, the city lights spread beneath us like a sea of tiny stars. Reynold turned toward the window and rested his forehead lightly against the cold glass, his swollen eyes watching the city grow smaller below.

I looked out for a moment too, listening to the steady hum of the engine beneath us. But before long, my attention returned to him.

I shifted closer and gently cupped the back of his neck, pulling him away from the window just enough to make him look at me.

"Don’t worry, little pet," I whispered. "You’re going to be fine. I’ve got you."

I leaned forward and pressed a long, tender kiss to his forehead, letting my lips linger against his skin for a quiet moment.

When I pulled back, I traced my thumb gently along his jaw.

"Kiss me."

Reynold didn’t hesitate. He leaned into my hand, closed his eyes, and pressed his lips softly against mine. It wasn’t hungry or desperate like before. It was slow, warm, and filled with a quiet, fragile trust that made something deep inside my chest ache.

I slipped my arm around his back, pulling him closer against my side as I rubbed slow, soothing circles over his back.

"Just focus on the journey," I told him.

He gave a small nod.

Wrapped in the warmth of the oversized hoodie and the steady comfort of my arm, exhaustion finally caught up with him. Within twenty minutes, his breathing grew deeper, and his head slowly tilted until it came to rest against my shoulder. Before long, he was fast asleep.

I glanced down at him, a faint, genuine smile touching my lips as I watched the steady rise and fall of his chest.

The flight to my private island was three hours long. Throughout the journey, Reynold slept peacefully in the quiet cabin, completely unaware of the world around him.

He didn’t stir until the helicopter began its descent. The gentle change in altitude and the slight banking of the aircraft finally woke him.

His eyelids fluttered open, and he blinked sluggishly against the dim cabin lights just as the helicopter touched down smoothly on the private helipad.

As the rotors began to slow, I reached for his hand and held it tightly in mine.

"We’re here," I murmured.

The cabin door opened, and a rush of cool ocean air swept inside.

We stepped onto the helipad of the secluded island estate. The property stretched out around us, with the main residence nestled among the palm trees and a smaller, cozy guest lodge sitting farther along the path near the cliffs.

Keeping hold of Reynold’s hand, I guided him past the smaller guest lodge as we walked side by side along the path toward the main residence. The warm lights from the house and the lanterns lining the walkway illuminated our path as we made our way toward the stone steps.

When we reached the steps...