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Alex hesitated again, unsure what else might be on the holopad. But Tyler mouthed “Solange” at him, so he did as he’d been ordered, and brought up the next holopic. It showed his mother and Tyler, walking hand in hand across the golf course at Lewes, talking to each other and laughing.

Alex felt like he was thrusting a dagger into his father’s heart and twisting it with each new image, but Tyler was relentless, and Alex had no choice but to keep flicking through holopic after holopic, all damning evidence of his mother’s infidelity, all truth-marked.

There could be no more denials – Tyler had proved his point to both father and son.

“Please stop, Alex.” His father wrapped a hand around his wrist. “Please… I don’t understand what’s happening here today.”

“Revenge, I think,” Alex said shakily.

“Not at all,” Tyler rebutted smoothly. “Like I said, this isn’t about you, Noah – it’s about Alexander. If he’d done as I asked in the duck on the way here, none of this would be happening. He’s the one to blame for this.”

Alexander reeled, the holopad slipping from his fingers. Was this his fault? Should he have just got onto his knees in the duck and agreed to Tyler’s terms? He’d had no idea Tyler would go this far, or open up a wound this deep.

“Isobel is dead – let her rest in peace,” Noah said hoarsely. “Would she want you doing this” – he gestured at Alex – “to her son?”

“Doing what?” Tyler queried. “I’m giving Alex the opportunity to be who he really is. Oh, you didn’t know about that, either, did you? While you were paying for his education at Oxford, he was going to clubs, sleeping with men, snorting croc, and drinking himself stupid.”

Alex wished he could run away and hide, but Tyler wasn’t going to stop until his father knew the truth.

“That’s not true,” Noah snapped. “Alex was involved with a nice girl at Oxford. He wasn’t on drugs during that time. I know this for a fact.”

“Because you paid Neil Grant to spy on him?” Tyler raised an amused eyebrow.

“Sadly, your son seduced Grant into lying to you. Alexander didn’t change after killing Izzy.

He wasn’t so full of remorse for his crime that he turned over a new leaf.

He continued taking drugs, and he whored his way through university, sleeping with anyone who’d help him score some croc. ”

“Alex?” Noah looked at him desperately. “This isn’t true, is it?”

“Dad… I’m sorry,” was all Alex could choke out.

“I’ve put evidence on the holopad,” Tyler said helpfully.

He picked it up from the floor, clicked on a different icon, and brought up a holopic of Alex dancing at a bar in Oxford with crocodile tears streaming down his cheeks.

Flicking his fingers, Tyler then displayed another photo of him fucking a young man in the alleyway outside a club, then yet another of him vomiting into the gutter.

Noah gave Alex a look of utter disgust. “I was right to disown you,” he said coldly. “You’ve brought nothing but shame and misery to your family. I wish you’d never been born.”

Alex flinched at the words, and Tyler smiled.

He knew that Tyler had won this round. He’d inflicted a killer blow, and Alex couldn’t shout, or defend himself, or storm out, as he might have done when he was free.

He couldn’t do anything unless Tyler gave him permission.

He hated himself and wished there was still a chance to make things right with his father, but he knew it was too late.

“Well, this has been lovely – it’s been so good to clear the air and bring everything out into the open.

However, we really must be going. I’m sorry for dragging you into all this, Noah, I really am.

” Tyler spoke in a regretful tone, as if he actually meant it.

“Alexander – with me. You can leave the holopad – Noah might like to look through those pics again at his leisure.”

Alexander hesitated. He didn’t want to abandon his father like this, but he didn’t know what he could do or say to help. He longed to throw his arms around Noah and make it all better, but they were long past that. He stood there, agonised.

Tyler clicked his fingers. “Now, Alexander,” he barked.

Noah didn’t even look up as Alex followed Tyler reluctantly to the door. Alex glanced over his shoulder as he left the room, to see that his father had picked up the holopad and was staring at the pictures vacantly as they scrolled through the air in front of him.

They swept out of the building and into the waiting limousine. Tyler sat down with a smile as Alex was shoved into the seat opposite.

“That went well,” Tyler said, smirking.

“You didn’t have to do that to him. It was cruel,” Alex croaked.

“I seem to remember you droning on not so long ago about how much you hated him, how he didn’t understand you, and how he kept thwarting your ambitions. It’s a bit late to play the dutiful son now.” Tyler sat back, still wearing that smug smile.

Alex wanted to wrap his hands around his throat and throttle it off his face. He clenched his hands into fists and looked down at his feet.

“So, how am I doing?” Tyler asked smoothly. “Have I broken you yet?”

Alex felt a wave of rage and defiance sweeping through him. “No,” he ground out, under his breath.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that. Speak up.” Tyler put a finger under his chin and lifted his head.

“I said no, you bastard. You haven’t fucking well broken me.”

Tyler chuckled. “Well, it’s early days. We’ll get there. We have plenty of time.”

They returned to Ghost Eye City in silence.

Fatso was ordered to return Alex to the suite he shared with Solange, while Tyler disappeared into his own private lift.

Taking off the hated high heels, Alex walked in his bare feet, relieved to finally be able to tread without pain, Fatso escorting him along the corridor.

“That wasn’t right,” the guard said suddenly as they waited for the lift to arrive.

“What?” Alex asked, surprised. Fatso rarely spoke to him.

“What he did today. It wasn’t right. Look, there are IS Agency inspectors. They come down and inspect all the houders signed up to the IS scheme. If you have any complaints, you’re allowed to call them. They have a helpline.”

“What the hell use is that when I don’t have access to a holo or nanopad, and I’m guarded twenty-four hours a day?” Alex demanded. The lift arrived, and they stepped inside.

“I’ve got a nanopad,” Fatso said quietly. “I can leave it out for a second while I take a piss. Take it and contact them; I’ll leave their nym open. They’ll have to send someone down to investigate, by law.”

“Why are you doing this?” Alex asked suspiciously.

“I’m not,” Fatso said firmly. “Tyler’s suite and this lift aren’t bugged, so nobody will know we had this conversation. I’ll say you nicked the nanopad when I was in the bog. Minor reprimand. It’s up to you, if you want to give it a try. No skin off my nose if you don’t.”

The lift doors opened, and Fatso strode out, silent again, as if he hadn’t said a word.

Alex followed, his mind buzzing with possibilities.

This could be his chance. Escape might not be possible, but if the authorities realised what Tyler was doing here, if they knew he was using his indies as prostitutes, beating and abusing them, then maybe he could be brought down.

He didn’t have much time to think about it, because Fatso went to the toilet almost immediately, leaving the nanopad on the kitchen counter.

Alex stared at it for a second, then palmed it and ran to his room.

He knew that the smartwall was monitored in real time, but unless he was seen making an obvious attempt to escape, he suspected his actions would go unnoticed.

Hiding under his duvet, he clicked on the nym Fatso had left open, his heart beating fast as he waited for a response. “Come on, come on…”

A friendly-sounding woman popped up. “Hello, this is the Indentured Servant Helpline, how may I help? ”

“I don’t have much time,” he told her. “I’m an IS, and my houder is abusive. He’s had me beaten and raped.”

“Please give me your name and ID number, sir,” she said. He stumbled through them quickly, willing her to hurry up. “Okay, I’ve pulled up your details. You’re registered to George Tyler – is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you. We’ll send an inspector down to assess the situation, sir.”

“When will that be, please?” he asked. “Only, he’ll probably find out I’ve made this call, and I don’t know what he’ll do to me.”

“We’ll contact an inspector immediately. Someone should be there within a few hours.”

He thanked her, ended the call, then went into the kitchen. Fatso hadn’t returned, so he discreetly placed the nanopad back on the counter, his heart still thumping in his chest. He had no idea what would happen next.

When Fatso came out of the toilet, he picked up the nanopad and pocketed it without so much as a glance in Alex’s direction.

Alex couldn’t believe what he’d done. He was full of jitters as he waited anxiously for the inspector to arrive.

He decided to kill some time by stripping off the vile clothes he’d been forced to wear and taking a shower, scrubbing his face until all the mascara, eyeliner, and lip gloss were gone.

Then he dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and a plain white tee-shirt.

When he returned to his bedroom, he stopped, aghast, at the new wall décor: instead of meadows, oceans, or forest glades, there was now a huge picture of his father displayed on the smartwall opposite his bed.

He recognised it as a publicity promo for the Lytton Classic; his father was wearing a business suit, his arms crossed over his chest as he gazed sternly down on his errant son.

“Really?” Alex yelled at the smartwall. “Just how fucking low can you stoop, Tyler?”