CHAPTER 217: CHAPTER 217: LOVE IN A LOCKED ROOM

~Evric’s POV~

The sudden, sharp rejection shocked me. I stared at him, the easy confidence I’d built up over the morning calls fracturing. The look on my face must have mirrored my inner turmoil: Why the immediate refusal? He was clearly afraid of being seen with me.

He gently removed his hand from mine and held both of my hands instead, his grip warm and steady. "Evric..." he started, his voice soft but weighted with certainty. He didn’t avoid my gaze. "I know you love me so much, and I love you. But you saw what happened last night, and you saw the news this morning."

He swallowed hard. "The way things are going right now, the best thing for both of us is to stay away from each other in public for now."

I felt a sharp, painful ache in my chest. I snatched my hands away, using one to roughly brush my hair back from my forehead. I turned my body to the side, deliberately keeping my eyes away from him. If I looked at him, I knew I might cry. This felt like a surrender, a huge step backward.

"We can go to work differently, and come back home to each other," Zayn continued, his voice pleading. "We’ll be together indoors, where we’re safe. It’s only outside we won’t be able to interact like that."

I said nothing. I didn’t react, didn’t move. The silence stretched between us, thick with disappointment and fear.

Then Zayn added the final blow. "And every picture of me you’ve ever posted on social media—even the little ones, the side views—please, Evric, delete it. Not for anything, but for the safety of our relationship."

At that, I couldn’t keep my back to him anymore. I spun around. I didn’t speak a single word, but my eyes were stinging, and the world seemed blurred at the edges. I let him see the raw hurt and the red edge of unshed tears. Then, without a sound, I turned and walked quickly upstairs. I couldn’t stay there and listen to the terms of our new public imprisonment.

Not long after I entered the room, I sank onto the edge of the bed, the sight of the unread news and the anonymous message burning in my mind, consumed by the crushing pain of what Zayn had just asked of me.

Zayn came in a moment later. He walked straight to me, knelt down, and gently nudged my legs apart, standing between my knees.

Zayn completely bypassed the painful conversation we’d just had downstairs. Looking at me with a desperate intensity, he said, "I promised you yesterday we’d celebrate your success," his voice husky. "I was tired, I know. I’m so sorry, baby, for not fulfilling it." He started to unbutton his shirt. "Let me make it up to you now."

I looked at his determined expression, my heart aching. I reached out and gently held his hand, stopping him from pulling the shirt off.

"Babe, stop," I said, the words barely a whisper. "Are you trying to say I can only love you in the bedroom? Not outside anymore?"

Zayn froze, the hurt flashing across his face, though he quickly tried to mask it. "What’s wrong with showing love inside, Evric, when we can be safe together?"

"No," I insisted, my voice tight. "I don’t want that. I want to pick you up from work and drop you off. I want to hold your hand when we walk through a park. I want to kiss you goodbye on the curb outside the grocery store. I want to do all of it. I don’t want to just love you in a locked room!"

"I know," Zayn said, looking down. "I know, but please, Evric, don’t worry. This too shall pass."

"When?" I demanded, the question raw.

Zayn pulled his hand free and quickly finished undressing. "Soon," he replied, undressing me with quick, efficient motions. "Let’s just be patient."

He pushed me back onto the pillows. He quickly wiped the corner of his eye, cleaning away a stray tear he hadn’t let me see. Then he looked down at me, forcing his sensual, beautiful smile.

"Daddy," he whispered, his voice vibrating with false excitement. "I want a smile on your face when you fuck me. Don’t look sad, or I might think I’m not sweet."

That attempt at normalcy, that simple plea for me to be happy, broke through my sorrow and made me smile, even as the tears still trailed down my cheeks.

"Daddy, I’m really horny," he insisted, pulling my hips toward him. "I need you to go harder on me. Let me enjoy this moment."

I leaned up and kissed him, my hands moving to gently undress the rest of myself. Our romantic section began, but it was pitiful. Zayn was clearly hurting, forcing a reaction he didn’t feel, and I was so consumed by my own grief that it made the lovemaking feel weighted and tragic.

The moment I slid inside Zayn and heard his involuntary moan, I cried harder. If I could enjoy him like this, if I could love him this completely, why did the public, why did the world, have such a problem with what I desired?

As I began to thrust, my mind betrayed me. Why was my life like this? Why did I have to fight for this basic happiness? I had fought for love, work hard for success, and finally, my career was secure. Just as my love life got better, just when things were perfect, I was facing a new crisis that threatened to erase it all. Was I destined to be successful in business but miserable in love? Was this the cost of being Evric Draeven?

The moment happened, but it wasn’t registered in the way pure intimacy should be. It was physical, a painful reminder of what we were fighting for, and we couldn’t say if we truly enjoyed it or not.

Just as I finally pushed past the emotional block and released inside Zayn, causing him to cry out and spill onto my hand, my body still breathing hard from the exertion, the sharp ring of my phone sliced through the quiet.

I instinctively knew it wasn’t Karl. I glanced at the screen, and the name of my PR manager flashed. I answered, still breathless.

"Evric," the manager’s voice was frantic. "They’ve gone too far now. We have scheduled an urgent, live interview. You need to come down to the studio immediately. You have to answer all these rumors and the pictures going viral on the internet. You can’t stay silent anymore."