Lucian didn't waste any time, his obvious impatience overriding any sense of caution. He was like a tightly wound spring, ready to unleash his pent-up emotions at the slightest provocation.

Wait a minute? Was this why he was so fucked up? How long had he know?!

He stood right in front of Rafiq, his small frame dwarfed by the older man's imposing presence, his chin lifted, defiant. His voice, though still tinged with the remnants of childhood innocence, was dripping with that sharp, taunting tone that only a thirteen-year-old who thinks he's untouchable can pull off, a dangerous mix of vulnerability and bravado.

"So, Mr. Rafiq," he asked sweetly, "do...