The door banged, making the whole house shudder. A chorus of raised voices approached.

“Now’s your chance. It’s opening time.”

Nick got up. Mercury remained pinned to the chair. He was as nervous as he’d been standing up in court.

“You coming?” Nick asked.

“Is it stupid to admit I’m scared?”

Nick’s expression softened. “It shows you care. That’s a good sign. Now come on, they won’t eat you.”

“Are you guaranteeing that?”

Nick reached down and took Mercury’s hand. Mercury started at the physical contact. God, this man was hot.

Nick pulled him to his feet. “You’ll be fine. I promise.”

With legs like jelly, Mercury allowed himself to be led through to the main room. A gaggle of teenagers were filling the lounge that he’d just walked through with the drinks. When they saw him, most of them snapped to attention. All except a tall lad who sat spread out on one of the sofas, messing with his phone.

Mercury recognised a top dog when he saw one.

“Right, everyone. Remember I told you that someone would be coming to work here for a few weeks.”

“Yeah, community service,” the lad on the sofa piped up.

The rest of them all laughed whilst regarding Mercury as if he’d landed from Mars.

“Hello, everyone,” Mercury managed, although his mouth had gone as dry as the Sahara.

The room fell into silence as they still stared.

“Come on,” Nick said. “That isn’t how we greet visitors. Blimey.”

A short young man stepped forward and solemnly held out his hand. “I’m Hassan,” he said. “Very pleased to meet you.”

Mercury took the gesture and shook. “Nice to meet you too, Hassan.”

Next came a nervous-looking young girl. “I know you,” she said. “You’re Madeline Morrison’s son.”

Everyone gasped.

“Are you?” Hassan asked.

Mercury nodded.

“She’s beautiful,” the young girl said. “I’m Olena.”

“And I’m Anna.”

They were evidently sisters. Mercury wouldn’t be at all surprised if they were twins. The similarities were incredible.

“Hello, Anna. Hello, Olena, and thank you. My mother would be very pleased.”

Wouldn’t she ever?

A stunning girl came forward.

“Mercury, this is Brooke,” Nick said.

“Are you the influencer who fucked up that artwork?” she asked.

Mercury bristled. “Apparently so. A terrible miscarriage of justice.”

“You got found guilty though,” the young man on the sofa said.

He had a hard stare that made Mercury uncomfortable. How could someone so young be so wary?

“I pleaded guilty,” Mercury said. “To avoid any more trouble. It was my word against his and he did a better job of convincing everyone that his version of events was true.”