CHAPTER 98: CHAPTER 98: MILDLY INTEREST AND JEALOUSY

Morning light spilled in through the curtains, softened by the sheer fabric Victor had insisted on keeping drawn. Elias was still half-buried in the duvet, hair rumpled and eyes narrowed at the sunlight, when Victor set a cup of coffee on the nightstand.

"Up," Victor said, with the tone of someone who wasn’t expecting a debate.

Elias groaned, rolling onto his back. "You’re not seriously making me do anything today."

Victor sat on the edge of the bed, one elbow resting on his knee as he studied him. "We still have to attend the symposium."

That dragged Elias’s gaze fully open. "No."

"Yes." Victor’s smirk held the patience of a man who had already anticipated the refusal. "But I’m generous. You’re not giving a presentation."

Elias blinked at him. "That’s your idea of generous?"

"You only have to sit there, drink your coffee, and look mildly interested," Victor said, reaching over to slide the cup into his hands. "I’ve excused you from everything else."

Elias stared at the steaming mug like it might save him. "And if I don’t look ’mildly interested’?"

Victor’s eyes glinted. "Then they’ll assume I’m distracting you, which is also acceptable."

Elias took a slow sip, letting the bitterness cut through the last threads of sleep. "Do you realize they’d hunt me down," he said flatly, "not only because I’m leading a project you shoved under my name", he fixed Victor with a pointed glare, clearly not forgetting that, "but now I wear your mark and scent too."

Victor’s smirk didn’t falter. "Yes."

"That’s not the reassurance you think it is."

"It’s not meant to be." He moved closer, resting one hand on the headboard and leaning just far enough into Elias’s space for the bond to pulse warm and steady between them. "Let them look. Let them think they can try. It changes nothing."

Elias arched a brow over the rim of his cup. "At least inform them that you won’t fund their project just because I ask for it."

Victor’s mouth curved in that infuriatingly patient way. "I would... if the project and its scientific direction were solid enough."

Elias set the cup down with exaggerated care, glaring at him. "You’re impossible."

"Efficient," Victor corrected.

Elias leaned back into the pillows with a long, put-upon sigh. "I think I need to rest. I’m sore."

Victor’s gaze flicked over him, slow and assessing, and the corner of his mouth lifted. "You’re not sore."

"You don’t know that," Elias countered, a little too quickly.

"I do," Victor said, stepping back just far enough to retrieve his watch from the nightstand. "And unfortunately for you, pretending won’t get you out of the symposium."

Elias dragged the duvet higher, muttering something about tyrants.

Victor didn’t bother to hide his smirk. "Ten minutes," he said, already heading for the wardrobe. "Or I’ll carry you there myself."

—

The ride over had been quiet, save for the occasional clink of Elias’s coffee cup against the saucer and Victor’s steady tapping against his phone. By the time they stepped into the conference hall, the shift in atmosphere was immediate, like the air itself had been pulled taut.

It wasn’t just because Elias was there, wearing the bond scent so obviously it might as well have been another layer of clothing.

It was because Victor was walking.

No chair. Just the easy pace of a man who’d decided to remind the entire room exactly what he was capable of. Every step seemed to ripple through the crowd, drawing glances that slid from disbelief to wariness to calculation.

Elias felt the stares as soon as they crossed the threshold, some fixed on him, sharp and assessing, others darting between him and Victor as if measuring what the bond meant, what it cost, what it would buy. He schooled his expression into the promised mild interest, even as the back of his neck prickled.

Victor didn’t so much as glance at the audience. His attention was forward, posture relaxed, as if he didn’t notice, or more likely, didn’t care, that half the symposium had frozen mid-conversation.

They reached their seats near the front, and Victor pulled out the chair for Elias before taking the one beside him. The bond hummed steady between them, and Elias caught the faintest smirk tugging at Victor’s mouth, as if he could feel every ounce of discomfort the crowd was drowning in.

"I told you," Victor murmured, low enough for only Elias to hear. "All you have to do is sit here."

Elias reached for his water, keeping his eyes forward. "And pretend I’m not imagining the headlines already being drafted?"

Victor’s smirk deepened. "Pretend harder."

It was easier said than done. Elias could feel the stares now, not the quick, indifferent glances he’d gotten at past events, when most people had been happy to treat him as background noise, but the steady, assessing kind that weighed and measured. People who had ignored him entirely a month ago were suddenly leaning forward in their seats, eyes cutting his way like they’d only just realized he existed.

He kept his posture loose, his expression bland, but the bond pulsed once, Victor noticing, knowing.

"Get used to it," Victor murmured, voice pitched so low Elias almost didn’t catch it over the quiet hum of the hall. "They’ll all want something from you now."

"That’s comforting," Elias muttered, scanning the room just enough to catch a pair of scientists he’d met once before staring like they’d never seen him in their lives. "I don’t even have a phone to screen their calls."

"You will," Victor said, the corners of his mouth twitching like he’d already set something in motion.

As if on cue, a shadow fell across the table, Ashwin, Victor’s right hand, moving with his usual quiet efficiency. Without a word, he set a sleek phone down between them, its black screen reflecting the overhead lights.

Elias blinked at it, then at Ashwin, who inclined his head once before disappearing back into the crowd.

"I see," Elias said dryly, fingers tapping the phone but not picking it up. "So I get this now? During the symposium? When I can’t even escape to check it?"

Victor’s gaze slid to him, equal parts amusement and warning. "Consider it a gift. Or a reminder."

"You really are unbelievable."

"Well," Victor said, leaning back in his chair like the room wasn’t full of people stealing glances at them, "at least Matteo can’t track you on this one... and you can call Ruo."

Elias’s fingers paused on the phone, the name pulling up a rush of familiar images: Ruo’s designer heels kicked off by the door, her irreverent laugh echoing down their shared hallway, and the way people stopped asking questions when they didn’t bother to correct the assumption that they were a couple. It had been a convenient fiction: she got to keep certain suitors at arm’s length, and Elias was left blessedly alone.

He felt a grin start to form before he could stop it. "So she is alive. I can barely wait to see her again."

Victor’s hand moved almost lazily, but the phone was gone from Elias’s fingers before he realized it, tucked neatly into the alpha’s palm.

Elias raised a brow. "Seriously?"

"You didn’t believe me when I told you she’s alive."

"I did," Elias said, leaning back with his arms folded, "but it didn’t help your case that you didn’t tell me anything else."

Victor’s smirk was slight, almost unreadable. "I didn’t tell you because I knew what that smile would look like."

Elias laughed under his breath. "You’re jealous."

"I’m protective," Victor corrected smoothly. "Of my time, among other things."

"That’s a long way of saying ’jealous.’" Elias held out his hand, palm up, fingers curling in a silent give it back.

Victor didn’t move. "Maybe later."

Elias’s eyes narrowed. "You’re holding my phone hostage."

"I’m safeguarding it," Victor corrected, dropping it casually in the interior pocket of his blazer as if to prove he had no intention of handing it over. "Phones are distracting. And right now, I prefer your attention here."