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He stomped off to the living room, but was in such a state of nervous anticipation that he couldn’t sit still. Solange gave him a strange look and asked him if he was okay, but he just shook his head and chewed on his nails. What was taking so long? What did “a few hours” mean? Three? Five? Ten?

When Fatso received a call later that evening, Alex watched him in agonised suspense.

“With me,” Fatso ordered. He jerked his head. “Boss wants you again.”

Alex accompanied him to the lift, his stomach knotted with anxiety. He didn’t dare even look at Fatso, so he stared straight ahead, still chewing on his fingernails.

“I wanted to say thank you,” he said when they were safely in the lift. “Uh…” He racked his memory for the man’s real name but totally failed to find it. “Um, Fatso,” he finished lamely. “Thanks.”

Fatso gave a little grunt, but said nothing. He escorted Alex to Tyler’s living room, where the older man was pacing around in a fury.

“I’ve had a call from the bloody IS Agency,” he yelled as soon as he saw Alex. “Apparently, a certain Alexander Lytton has made a complaint about his treatment here, and an inspector is on the way.”

Alex lifted his jaw defiantly. “I stole the suite nanopad and called them,” he said, trying to word it in a way that wouldn’t get Fatso into trouble.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Tyler said menacingly.

“What you do here, how you operate – it’s illegal,” Alex flared back at him. “My father doesn’t treat his indies like this?—”

“That’s because your father likes to play lord of the manor and have everyone fawn over him.

It’s also why your father is such a bloody useless businessman who doesn’t make any money.

ISs are cheap labour, but they don’t come for free – you have to feed, clothe, and take care of them.

In your father’s case, he built them their own village with little toy houses, a community centre, and medical facilities.

In short, your father is an idiot,” Tyler said dismissively.

“He wants to go to bed every night believing he’s a good man – and that’s his weakness. I don’t give a damn about that.”

“Clearly,” Alex answered pointedly.

Tyler glared at him. “The one thing I learned from being shafted repeatedly by the Lyttons growing up is that you have to use people, or they’ll use you. I don’t employ indies out of the goodness of my heart – they’re here to serve my purpose, and they’ll do exactly what I say.”

“Or you’ll break them?” Alex snorted.

“Precisely,” Tyler snapped. “So, your inspector will be here shortly, Alexander – what do you intend to say to him?”

“The truth. I’ll tell him exactly what goes on here, and how George Tyler treats his indentured servants.”

“You’re well fed, well clothed, and there isn’t a mark on you,” Tyler pointed out, waving at him. “It’ll be my word against yours.”

“I’ll tell them what you made me do this morning. I’ll show them that I’m being recorded night and day.”

“A perfectly reasonable precaution to prevent a high-value IS being kidnapped, wouldn’t you say?” Tyler raised an eyebrow.

Alex refused to be daunted. This might be his only chance: he had to take it. “I’ll make them believe me somehow. I’ll at least make them investigate, force them to write a report.”

“Aw, so you’re a campaigner for social justice now.” Tyler sneered. “Funny, I didn’t see you going on any ‘Free the Indies’ marches when you were a privileged young man pissing your father’s money away on booze and croc.”

“That’s because I didn’t know houders like you existed, then. I thought all indies got looked after the same way my father’s are.”

“You didn’t care then, and you only care now because you’re an IS yourself, so it’s your arse on the line. If it wasn’t, you’d turn your back and walk away,” Tyler said with a sly grin. “You’re what you always were, Alexander – a spoilt brat who only cares about himself.”

“Maybe, but I’m the spoilt brat who’s going to bring you down, Tyler.”

“Well, it looks like you have your chance,” Tyler said as the door opened and one of his indies walked in. “Let’s see how you do, shall we?”

“There’s a government inspector here to see you, sir,” the servant told him.

“I’d better go and greet him, then. Good luck, Alexander,” Tyler said with a grim smile. He left the room, and Alexander heard him greeting the inspector in the hallway outside .

“Ah, George. What’s going on here, then?” a man’s voice said in a jovial tone. “We’ve had a call. Some nonsense about a complaint. What’s got young Lytton so upset?”

“I don’t know – why don’t you ask him?” Tyler said, leading the inspector into the room. Alexander’s stomach gave a sickening lurch.

“Alexander – you remember Martin Bagshaw, don’t you?” Tyler said silkily as he brought Bagshaw over to him. “You had the pleasure of entertaining him soon after you arrived. In fact, I believe he was the very first guest you entertained here.”

Bagshaw grasped Alex’s hand and shook it, tutting the whole time and gazing at Alex fondly. “Dear oh dear, what on earth is the matter? Complaints against George? I can’t believe that. Let’s sort this out, shall we, Alexander?”

Alex stared at him in shock. “You’re an IS Agency inspector?”

“Yes – didn’t George tell you? I’ve been looking after his IS account for years now.

I do all his inspections and write up all the reports.

If a call comes in regarding George’s IS account, I’m the one they send along.

If I’m not available, they send Clive. So, what’s the problem?

” Bagshaw asked. “You complained that George here is abusing you. In what way?”

Alex caught Tyler exchanging a quick glance with Fatso over Bagshaw’s shoulder and realised how comprehensively he’d been set up.

Tyler had wanted him to make the call. Tyler had facilitated it precisely because he wanted to rub his nose in the futility of his situation.

He’d raised Alex’s hopes on purpose, because in dashing them, that would hurt Alex even more.

“You know what happens here,” Alex told Bagshaw desperately. “You’ve seen it. Hell, you’ve been a part of it. You know how Tyler treats his indies. It’s against the law for him to prostitute us and use physical violence on us.”

“I know nothing of the sort,” Bagshaw replied. “Can you show me any evidence of this physical violence? Are you bruised or hurt anywhere?”

“Not right now, but that’s irrelevant, isn’t it? You’re not going to do anything about Tyler’s setup here, because you’re part of it. Christ, how can you bear to live with yourself, Martin? ”

A flicker of self-loathing appeared on Bagshaw’s face.

Tyler stepped forward and wrapped an arm around the man’s shoulders.

“Because he loves his sons,” Tyler said pointedly. “Isn’t that right, Martin?”

“I do,” Bagshaw agreed sadly, sitting down on the sofa with a heavy sigh. “And I can’t lose them, Alexander, you know that. You know there are certain things that if my wife saw… well, she’d divorce me and take my boys away. I can’t let that happen.”

“So you’ll continue to let George Tyler get away with beating and prostituting his ISs to cover up your own sexual indiscretions? You’re a bloody coward,” Alex flung at him.

Bagshaw gave a helpless shrug. “I know. I’ve long ago faced up to who I am, Alexander. I’m a weak, stupid fool who made a mistake and must pay for it.”

“It’s not just you who’s paying for it,” Alex retorted. “Be brave, Martin. Step up for once. All it takes is one report – one call. You could let the IS Agency know what’s really going on here.”

“I love my family; I can’t lose them.” Martin stretched out his arms helplessly. “Did I think, as a little boy, that I’d grow up to be a coward and an idiot? No. Nobody does, but we’re none of us the great men we imagined we’d be. Look at you – you stole millions of pounds from your own father.”

“And I’m paying for that every single day,” Alex said tightly.

“Which is precisely as it should be,” Bagshaw told him righteously. “You were sold into servitude as a punishment – it’s not supposed to be a holiday.”

“It’s one thing to lose your freedom, and another to be whored out to perverts like you for the sake of George Tyler’s business empire,” Alex yelled.

Bagshaw stood up. “There’s nothing more to be done here,” he said primly, glancing at Tyler.

“I’ll report that I found conditions here to be excellent, as usual, and the complaint was made by a well-known troublemaker, seeking attention.

Given the young man’s notoriety, that won’t be hard to believe. ”

“Thank you, Martin.” Tyler walked him towards the door.

“I’m sorry you had to make this journey for nothing, but I tell you what, why don’t you come for a proper visit sometime soon?

You can stay for the weekend. Alexander will be happy to keep you entertained for a couple of days.

Then you can really enjoy your time with him, just the two of you, away from prying eyes.

Let me know if there’s anything in particular you’d like to see him wearing next time, or any little extras we can lay on to help you enjoy your fantasies more.

I’m sure it can be arranged.” He cast a vicious smile in Alex’s direction.

“Martin – please!” Alex called out desperately.

Bagshaw hesitated and glanced back.

“It’s not too late – your choices aren’t set in stone. You can still be a good man and do the right thing.”

Bagshaw shook his head. “I’m sorry, Alexander, I really am. Now, be a good boy for your houder, and I’ll come and visit you again soon.”

Tyler ushered Bagshaw out of the door and then returned with a broad smile on his face. “Broken yet?”

“Fuck you!” Alex roared. “You set this whole thing up. All that fake anger that I’d stolen Fatso’s nanopad to call the IS helpline when you knew about it all along – and you knew they’d send Bagshaw.”