"Charon." That name strikes intrigue and nameless fear into Neil's very core. Can't blame him when his nineteen-year-old self was thoroughly convinced his very interesting, uh, employee had the mind to rip him apart at the termination of their contract. There was a reason why he held that contract so fucking fiercely to his chest.

"Maybe you are my rebound," Neil continues. "Life gets lonely without someone there to one day stab me in my back."