Accepting a cup of coffee from Einar’s housekeeper Ben, he thanked him, proceeded to his office, switched on his laptop, and delved into the user journey map he had nearly completed the day before, needing meticulous review and analysis. With a heavy sigh, he began scrutinizing each point, occasionally referring back to his notes where he had documented every detail. Gradually, he became engrossed in the project, his focus solely on typing away. By lunchtime, he had completed the presentation, stretching wearily - he planned to take a stroll with Miny after lunch, then return to review it once more before sending it off to the client.

Einar's arrival in the late afternoon had thrown a wrench into Moe's otherwise well-laid plans. As he pushed Miny’s stroller, he sighed unhappily at the sight of Einar stepping out of the car, exuding contentment that only served to worsen Moe's already imbalanced hormonal state. Einar's suggestive pheromones and attractive physique only exacerbated the situation.

"What do you want?" Moe asked gloomily, steering the stroller towards the narrow path that wound through the garden.

"Hey," Einer squinted, observing Moe's somber expression, trying to discern the source of his displeasure. "I thought I'd catch up with you for a walk and join you."

"You forgot to ask me," Moe snapped, his tone sharp with irritation. "I don't want to walk with you, Simmons!"

"I thought we were past the formalities," Einer replied, unfazed by Moe's unfriendly response, moving closer to admire Miny's cheerful gestures with his gloved hands. "Hello there, little one. I brought you a toy," he said, producing a charming teddy bear from behind his back. Miny's eyes widened with delight at the sight of it. Einer pressed the bear's belly, and it spoke in his voice, "Miny, I love you."

Miny released his excitement in a long, stifled groan, his body tensing in his stroller, his breaths coming out warningly, blood rushing to his cheeks. Moe, who had been about to snatch the toy away, paused, reluctantly allowing it to be handed over, feeling a surge of icy anger building up inside him. It boiled over when Einer, inhaling deeply through flaring nostrils, remarked hoarsely, “You smell stronger today, incredibly arousing.”

“Stop sniffing me, Simmons! And stop trying to buy off Miny! He's my son and has nothing to do with you!” Moe pushed the stroller forward with jerky movements, seething as the audacious Einer scurried alongside him, still taking in quick sniffs of his scent.

“Please, don't be upset,” Einar implored calmly, his gaze faltering. “You've seemed so tense lately. Tell me, what's been bothering you?”

“It's this confinement!” Moe retorted dryly, gesturing around with his hand. “And your presence in our lives as well! I want to get away, damn it! I want the easy life I could've had if you hadn't come into it.”

“We've discussed this,” Einar sighed heavily. “But even without me, your life wouldn't have been easy. Others would have come along. Just a little longer, Moe, and we'll...”

“Not ‘we,’” Moe corrected him sharply, narrowing his eyes. “It's just me and Miny! You and Manny aren't part of my long-term plans, and the short-term arrangements should have ended ages ago!” He abruptly fell silent, recalling Einar mentioning the special escort service utilized by his family.

Einer's voice continued in a soothing hum nearby, directed either at him or the cheerful Miny, while Moe, slowing his pace to the rhythm of pleasant thoughts, felt himself easing and encouraged - in such an agency, there must be not only omegas or betas, but also alphas capable of simulating a genuine relationship without risking emotional or physical dissatisfaction. The world seemed to shimmer with new possibilities, and Moe found himself breaking into a contented smile, momentarily forgetting about Einar as he strode off in a relaxed manner.

"When you smile like that, it feels like you could conquer the world," Einar murmured softly. "But I can tell that smile isn't for me."

"Clever boy. I'd offer you a lollipop, but unfortunately, I'm fresh out," Moe chuckled, already plotting who he could reach out to about the agency. He grinned, "Joe, who used to work as Dan's deputy head of security, might have some contacts."

"I'd gladly accept that reward in another form - like a kiss, perhaps," Einar suggested, slipping into his mischievous demeanor. "Hmm?" He leaned in with parted lips, gazing at Moe with a captivating look, but Moe playfully pushed him away with a casual gesture. "How rude," Einar pouted, navigating the slick spring mud in his stylish shoes - the narrow path didn't leave much space for both of them.

Stolen novel; please report.

"Let someone else give you a kiss," Moe suggested, leaning down to the chatty Miny. "What's up, little one? Oh, you want to explore, don't you?" He unfastened the straps, lifted Miny out, and guided him towards the object of his curiosity, rubbing his cheek against the warm woolen hat with playful ears.

Miny eagerly reached for the branch, struggling to grasp it, his legs kicking in excitement. He eventually managed to pull a small piece off, holding it triumphantly in his hands as he let out a joyful shriek.

"You little troublemaker," Moe gently scolded, turning him around and planting a kiss on his cool, rosy cheeks. "But you're a sweet troublemaker, aren't you, Miny?"

"May I...?" Einar cleared his throat, his gaze pleading as he looked at them. "Could I hold him for a minute? Please, Moe."

Moe tensed, holding Miny closer to him protectively, his nerves on edge as he observed the desperation in Einar's gray eyes. It wasn't a demand, but a plea, yet Moe still shook his head firmly.

"No, Einer, I don't want him to become attached to you, or vice versa. Eventually, we'll move on and forget..." Moe hesitated, swallowing the rest of his sentence, then added evasively, "Forget everything."

"Just once," Einar whispered hopelessly, casting a longing glance at Miny, who had returned to the stroller.

"No," Moe shook off the awkwardness of the moment and strode back toward the house- fuck the walk, they can go out later, when Einar's off to the office. No reconciliation, no 'hold him for a minute.' Too much has already been allowed. The enemy is too close, a couple more concessions and it'll be like waving the white flag.

Joe seemed to freeze in place as he listened to Moe, his almond-shaped brown eyes filled with profound sadness, as if he didn't want to be caught in the middle. Moe couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"One can find such agencies if digs hard enough, linking one clue to the next," Moe told him, raising his eyebrows playfully. "But it would be helpful to have that initial clue, or even better, the name. Right?" As Joe contemplated the delicate matter of clues, Moe quickly summarized: "I need a name, I'll take it from there."

"Arthur Rimbaud," Joe whispered softly, glancing around cautiously. "They pretend to be a private library where people gather for poetry nights. You'll need to provide a code word to initiate contact with the right person, and that's the word you'll find, okay?”

"Give me a hint," Moe demanded indignantly. "I'm not exactly a poetry buff!"

"His lover," Joe whispered. "Please - keep it to yourself."

"I'll be as silent as the grave," Moe chuckled gleefully, pulling out his cellphone to Google the lover's name and the contact information for the exclusive private library. He dialed eagerly, standing just in front of Joe, who seemed as pale as the nearby white wall. "Hello. I'd like to borrow a book, something more masculine, more intellectual. Perhaps something by Verlaine."

"Greetings," the deep baritone responded warmly. "Excellent choice, sir. I'll now connect you to the librarian specializing in 19th-century French literature. Please hold the line," he added before a Mozart a cappella filled the air.

Joe let out a resigned sigh and cast a reproachful glance at the scowling Moe before turning to exit the living room. Moe trailed after him, asserting, "I found it and made the choice on my own, thank you very much!" He flashed a satisfied grin as another baritone voice greeted him and inquired about his preference for the type of man he would like before sending a portfolio.

After receiving the file, Moe casually flipped through the portfolio, his gaze skimming over the various masculine features- smoothly shaved chins, tidy beards, eyes of blue, green, brown, and gray... Suddenly, he froze as his phone screen displayed a cheerful face. Moe's eyes darted downward to read the name- Kay Lawrence. The type was perfect—nothing like the detested Leonardo, who had possessed a striking Italian beauty in his lifetime- bronzed complexion, with delicate laughter lines around bright blue eyes, a straight nose, high cheekbones, well-defined lips, and chin. Kay represented an entirely different ideal.

"Kay Lawrence," Moe breathed out eagerly, already envisioning a delightful evening ahead. "Tonight. I'll text you the address but be aware he'll need to pass through security."

"Of course, sir," the baritone responded softly. "Any preferences or restrictions?"

"No violence, no coercion, everything must be gentle and respectful. And no perversions," Moe stated firmly, feeling a surge of excitement within.

"Noted, sir. Kay will be here by 7:00 p.m., if that works for you."

"Perfect," Moe replied, biting her lip to suppress a giggle.

With the choice made, work took on a new intensity, practically sizzling in his hands. Once finished, Moe happily immersed himself in the warm bliss of parenthood, playing with Miny on the nursery floor and reveling in the perfect compromise he had reached. Even in Singapore, it would have required some effort to convey his reluctance to engage in a relationship. After feeding, bathing, and putting Miny to bed, Moe hurried to clean up with less than an hour left. He scrubbed his entire body, applied creams to his skin, and admired his reflection in the mirror, noting that he had returned to his previous shape, albeit with larger, brighter nipples and more prominent breasts than usual. Humming "Arabian Nights," Moe dressed for the occasion – stylish skinny jeans, a light blue shirt to match his eyes – before gliding out into the spacious living room, eagerly awaiting the arrival of his long-awaited guest.