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Summary
Max held him firmly; his arm was like a steel chain holding him in place, his fingers gliding over Charles’s waist almost without touching it, hovering over him like a threat.
Rationally, Charles knew it had lasted only seconds, but it felt like hours. Max pulled away, sliding his open palm down Charles’s lower back until the touch disappeared completely. A silence spread through the bathroom.
Then Max spoke, low and restrained as usual:
“Take your filthy eyes off what’s mine.”
—
Or, Charles Leclerc is arrested and discovers that to survive in prison, you need an alibi, or more precisely, an owner.