When they returned to his assigned room—one of the mansion's magnificent guest suites—Chris hesitated by the doorway. The weight of everything unsaid between them pressed into his shoulders. Sky hadn't asked him about the wealth. The name. The whole truth. But he felt the questions there, hanging unspoken between chandelier light and silence.
Sky took in the room again like he hadn't been here before, trying not to show the awe that flickered in his eyes, but Chris noticed anyway.
To distract himself, he moved past Sky to open the wardrobe to see what else Sky could get from the line of clothes prepared for him—and immediately flinched.
"Jesus Christ," Chris muttered.
The wardrobe was lined with perfectly arranged suits, like a showroom display. All dark tones. All stiff.
All Leon.
Chris turned around, jaw slack. "Are you serious right now?" he said, staring at Sky, who burst into laughter.
"Leon's insane," Chris grumbled. "Actually insane."
