“Don’t take this the wrong way, because I’m not judging you, but why did you use the escort service if they betrayed you before?”

“The service I used was just the one. The first date was when I met you at the Mallerton Gala. I only arranged for a second date through the service because I really wanted to see you again. I was crushed when it wasn’t you who showed up to my door. It was also the final time I was filmed. After, I resigned myself to celibacy and pledged eternal friendship with my hand and a bar of soap in the shower. I’m not kidding.”

“Imagining you jerking off in the shower isn’t at all unpleasant to me. Hell, I’d be happy to just hang out and watch you sometime, if it will help.”

“Kitten, if you’re anywhere remotely in the vicinity of my shower while naked I won’t be needing the soap or my hand to get the job done, I can assure you.”

“Right. I was just trying to lighten your mood. What about the other times you were recorded then?”

“The other instances it was paid women who weren’t posing as escorts at all, but someone I’d meet at an event or cocktail party for work or some other scheduled commitment as if by chance. They were all paid accomplices of Park’s though, posing as if they worked for the charity or institution putting on the event. It was a fucked-up shitshow. I learned that Park was following me around via my public schedule, so I stopped having Lowell, my assistant, list it on the website.” He looked down at our hands and seemed genuinely bummed. “I’m ashamed of what you might see if you go looking—sexploitation vids going back since I joined the House of Lords.”

“I won’t go looking on porn sites for videos of you, Ivan. That’s not even in my wheelhouse. Trust me on this, okay?”

“Thank you.” He took my hand and kissed it before placing it back down and clasping it again. “Park’s fucking demented. He’s also breaking the law and I’m going to have him arrested eventually. None of what he’s doing is legal. It’s only a matter of time until he makes a critical error. The drone registration may help with that. And the fact I’ve got government security now attached at Donadea. I’d forgone it till now, but starting immediately, I’ll have RaSP—that’s Royalist and Specialist Protection officers installed at my homes in London and here. I had to let RaSP know what’s going on at Donadea with the art, and about you working here indefinitely. On top of everything, I’ve got to deal with this barking mad lunatic chasing me around trying to do God-knows-fucking-what. Kill me? Burn down my house full of priceless paintings? Jesus, fuck! I’m sort of at the end of my rope with caring at this point. I just want him to stop his fixation with me. I need him removed from my side of the earth.”