HIS BROKEN SAINT

CHAPTER 16:THE GALA

The truck keys lived on the nightstand now. Dad’s keys. Elias touched them every morning before he got up.

Tonight Damien came home with something else in his pocket. Something small. Metal. Cold.

Elias was at the dining table, reading. He didn’t flinch when the door opened. Not anymore.

Damien didn’t say a word. He just walked over, pulled out the chair next to him, and sat. Close. Knee brushing Elias’s under the table.

Then he took Elias’s hand. Turned his palm up.

Elias watched him. No questions. Just watched.

Damien pulled a single key from his pocket. Not the truck key. Not the penthouse key.

A different one. Old. Simple. On a plain chain.

He threaded it onto Elias’s finger. Not a ring. A key. Let it hang there against his skin.

“This,” Damien said. Voice low. “This is to my office. To my safe. To every room in this house that was ever locked.”

He paused. Looked up at Elias. Eyes serious.

“And to me.”

Elias stared at the key on his finger. Light. Weightless. Heavier than any contract.

“You’re giving me access,” he whispered.

“No,” Damien corrected. He closed Elias’s fingers over the key. “I’m giving you permission. To walk in. Anytime. No knock. No rules. No debt.”

Elias’s throat tightened. “Why?”

“Because you stopped flinching,” Damien said simply. “Because you’re halfway there. Because if I’m asking you to stay... you should have a way in. Not just a reason.”

He lifted Elias’s hand. Pressed his mouth to the key on Elias’s finger. Not a kiss. A vow.

“No one else has this,” Damien said against his skin. “Just you. My keyholder.”

Elias look at the key. Then at Damien.

He didn’t take it off. Didn’t question it.

He just leaned forward and rested his forehead against Damien’s shoulder. The key pressed cold between them.

“Okay,” Elias whispered. “I’ll keep it.”

Damien’s arm came around his back. Pulled him in.

The key was still warm on Elias’s finger. He hadn’t let go of Damien’s shoulder.

Damien’s arm stayed around his back. Pulling him in. No words for a full minute. Just breathing.

Then, after a few minutes, Damien shifted. Pulled back just enough to see Elias’s face.

Elias looked up. Eyes still a little red from Ch 14. But dry now. Trusting.

Damien’s thumb brushed the key on Elias’s finger. “You’re coming with me,” he said. Simple. Not a question.

Elias blinked. “Where?”

“Gala. Tomorrow night.” Damien’s mouth twitched. Almost a smile. “My plus one.”

Elias froze. “Damien, I don’t— I don’t do those things. Suits. People. Cameras.”

“I know,” Damien said. He lifted Elias’s hand, key and all, and kissed his knuckles. Not romantic. Grounding. “That’s why I’m asking you. Not because you fit in. Because you don’t. And I want them to see you anyway.”

Elias stared at the key on his finger. Then at Damien.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I’ll go.”

Damien’s hand moved to his waist. Same spot. Anchor. “Good keyholder.”

Black tie. Crystal chandeliers. Nairobi’s elite pretending they weren’t all watching.

Elias tugged at his collar. The suit Damien picked fit perfect. Too perfect.

Damien appeared beside him. Offered his arm.

Elias slipped his hand through. The room shifted. Whispers started.

They stopped at the center. A CEO stepped forward, smile sharp. “Damien. Didn’t know you brought a plus one. Your... assistant?”

Damien’s hand slid to Elias’s waist. “This. This is mine.”

Whispers died. Damien’s thumb brushed circles on Elias’s waist through the suit. “You okay?” he murmured.

Elias nodded. “They’re staring.”

“Let them,” Damien said. “Rule 8.”

Midway through the night, a woman in red silk slid up to them. Old family friend. All smiles and too much perfume.

“Damien, darling,” she purred, touching his arm. “It’s been ages. You never call anymore.” Her eyes flicked to Elias. Assessed him. Dismissed him. “And who’s this?”

Before Damien could answer, Elias felt a hand on his other arm. A younger guy from some tech firm. “You’re the one in all the rumors, huh? You dance?” He tried to pull Elias away from Damien’s side.

Damien didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t move fast.

He just stepped in. One arm still locked around Elias’s waist. The other came up and caught the guy’s wrist. Gently. Firmly.

“His name is Elias,” Damien said. Calm. Cold enough to freeze. “And he doesn’t dance with anyone but me.”

The guy let go. Fast.

The woman in red laughed awkwardly. “Possessive much?”

Damien looked down at Elias. Thumb brushing his waist. Then back at her. “Accurate,” he said.

He pulled Elias closer. Chin resting on top of his head. “Sorry. My keyholder gets distracted easily. I don’t let him out of my sight.”

Elias went red. But he didn’t move away. He leaned into Damien’s chest instead.

The woman excused herself quickly. The tech guy disappeared.

Damien exhaled. “You good?” he asked Elias quietly.

Elias nodded into his shirt. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” Damien said against his hair. “You’re mine. Not a rumor. Not an accessory. Mine.”

For the rest of the night, no one approached. Damien’s hand never left Elias’s waist.

On the balcony later, Elias whispered, “Everyone knows now.”

“Good,” Damien said. “They needed to.”

_He asks him to the gala. He claims him when someone tries. The world hears it._