CHAPTER 63: 63: UNMASKED AND OWNED

Angelica, a woman who had seen much during her years with the Devereux family, handled the shock with remarkable poise, though her eyes were wide. She quickly glanced from Alexander’s hard, unreadable face to Adrian’s flushed, exposed one.

"Mr. Devereux," she said quietly, her voice full of concern for the secretary she had grown fond of. "I... I see."

"Good," Alexander continued, his grip tightening imperceptibly on Adrian. "From now on, Adrian will be working in-house, exclusively. He is still my secretary. But he is also my wife, and he is a compulsive liar."

He paused, letting the raw, brutal truth hang in the silence. He pushed the red wig into Adrian’s hand.

"Go to the guest room, Mr. Cole," Alexander commanded, his voice switching back to the cold executive tone that left no room for defiance. "Shower. Remove that makeup. Put on something of your own, simple, and come to the dining room in fifteen minutes."

Adrian couldn’t speak. He simply nodded, his eyes lowered to the ridiculous red wig in his hand. He felt the weight of every lie, every kiss, every stolen moment settle crushingly upon him.

He turned and fled toward his room, Angelica’s soft, sympathetic gaze following him, feeling the humiliation of the past weeks crystallize into this single, devastating moment.

"Angelica," Alexander called.

The woman immediately turned away from the direction Adrian had gone and looked at her boss.

"Yes, Mr. Devereux," She answered.

"No one knows. I only told you because you live here with us. If I hear it from anyone else..." Alexander allowed the threat to hang between them, his face devoid of emotion.

Angelica nodded, "Of course, Mr. Devereux. I understand." She replied.

Fifteen Minutes Later...

Adrian reappeared in the dining room, looking like a ghost of the vibrant ’Adrienne’ persona. The elaborate makeup was gone, scrubbed off in the shower, leaving his skin raw and slightly red. He wore a simple, dark t-shirt and loose sweatpants—the antithesis of the clothes Alexander had enjoyed seeing him in. He was Adrian Cole again: the nervous, guarded, timid secretary.

Alexander was already seated at the head of the immense mahogany dining table, which was otherwise bare, emphasizing the formality of the confrontation. He was reading something on his tablet, his composure absolute.

He didn’t look up immediately, leaving Adrian standing awkwardly at the foot of the table.

"Sit," Alexander ordered finally, without raising his eyes. He indicated the chair directly to his right, a position of proximity and power.

Adrian sat, hands folded tightly in his lap.

Alexander closed the tablet with a sharp, decisive snap and placed it on the table. The sound was deafening in the silence.

"We have two separate matters to resolve, Mr. Cole," Alexander began, his blue eyes sharp and unforgiving. "The first is legal; the second is contractual."

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, his posture radiating authority. "You stole the identity of my wife, you signed a fraudulent marriage contract, you engaged in financial theft, and you breached confidentiality. You are looking at serious jail time." His eyes ran over Adrian, taking in his quiet form.

Against his will, a voice was already whispering in his head that he preferred this Adrian to Adrienne, the real man. No wigs, no makeup, no dresses. Just him.

He watched Adrian flinch, then continued: "However, you are also my legal spouse, and more importantly, you are the person my mother and my shareholders believe to be Mrs. Devereux. Your failure is now my liability."

Alexander paused, letting the severity sink in.

"Here is the deal, Mr. Cole, and you have no bargaining power. You will not go to jail, and your mother’s bills will continue to be paid."

Adrian’s head snapped up, a flicker of desperate hope in his eyes.

"But," Alexander warned, his voice dropping to a low threat, "I am restructuring your debt. You will continue the role of my wife, Adrienne Devereux, until the successful completion of the one-year contract. In return, your legal debts will be forgiven. But your personal debt—the money I spent on you, the humiliation you caused, the deceit—will be repaid through absolute, unwavering obedience."

He pushed a single sheet of paper across the table—a hastily printed, single-paragraph addendum.

"Sign this, Mr. Cole. It confirms your acceptance of my terms. The terms are simple: You are my property until I say otherwise. You will live here. You will go where I tell you. And you will be whatever I need you to be—secretary, wife, or anything else I desire. Do you understand your only choice?" His voice was low, unrushed.

Adrian took a shuddering breath. Alexander had already stated all this before, but he never knew he would pull a contract for it.

This was a means of making sure Adrian was bound to Alexander. A contract.

Of course, he’d sign it, he had no choice.

Life with Alexander was just like prison, a prison with luxury.

"Yes, I understand." Adrian nodded gently.

He reached out his hand and picked up the pen beside the paper, his eyes lowering to the thin line at the bottom of the contract.

Swallowing hard, he gripped his fingers tightly around the pen as he moved his hand to the line.

Alexander watched closely as Adrian’s slim fingers gently moved the pen across the line, signing away his freedom and himself.

His eyes moved to Adrian’s face and saw him biting his lip, his eyes staring blankly at his signature.

Slowly, Adrian lifted his face to Alexander, his grey eyes looking tired, "I signed it." He said.

"Regretting?" Alexander asked, not taking his eyes away from Adrian’s sad face.

Adrian nodded slowly, "Yes, boss. I do not want to be your property... not in this way..." he murmured the last part to himself.

"What did you say?" Alexander questioned, hooking a finger under Adrian’s chin.

"Nothing –"

"Don’t lie to me," Alexander tilted Adrian’s face up, looking into his eyes.

Adrian swallowed hard, "This," he risked it, lifting his hand to touch Alexander’s face, "You hate me... your eyes show it. I don’t want to belong to you in this way." He took his hand back, lacing his fingers together on his lap and darting his eyes away.

Alexander had gone still the moment Adrian touched him, he wasn’t expecting it, and it had caused his brain to slow for a few seconds as he tried to process what Adrian’s words meant.

"But, in your words, I’m a criminal, so I don’t get to choose what I am to you, or how you should treat me," Adrian smiled to himself, leaning away from Alexander’s touch.

Alexander remained quiet, looking intensely at Adrian’s side profile.

Suddenly, Adrian’s stomach rumbled, breaking the tense silence between them.

Adrian’s eyes immediately blew open, his hands going to his stomach, "I’m sorry. Can I go now?" He asked, staring at the far end of the table to avoid looking at Alexander.

Alexander frowned, "You want to go to bed?" He asked calmly.

Adrian nodded, "Yes, boss." He answered, wishing he could teleport right into his room at that moment.

"Stop being an idiot, Adrian. Sit, eat, then you can go to bed." He glanced at the paper and picked it up, standing from his chair, "That’s a command." He said and walked away.

Adrian sighed, watching Alexander leave, "Yes, boss." He murmured, glancing down at his hands, "We really signed away our freedom, did we?" He asked himself, imagining for just how long Alexander intended to keep him until his sins were forgiven.

He was literally living his dream, his fantasy of living in the same house as his boss, but now that it was happening, he couldn’t tell where his excitement began and where his fear ended.

He did want this. Not like this.

He felt like a slave, which in a way, he was. He wanted Alexander, just Alexander, and he wished Alexander would want him, too, just as Adrian.

"Hungry?" Angelica asked as she lowered the dish in front of him.

Adrian cleared his throat, lowering his gaze to his lap, "Thank you." He murmured.

Angelica sighed and placed a hand on Adrian’s back, "You don’t have to hide from me, Adrian. After all, my only son is just like you. If you ever need help with makeup or dress selection, you can always come to me. Trust me, I’ve done that for over fifteen years." She chuckled and patted his back.

"Eat up, Adrian. Food makes everything feel better," she whispered and quietly walked away.

Adrian raised his face and glanced at her retreating figure, a small smile playing at his lips.

He wondered if his mother would be this calm if she found out about him, too.

"Angelica," he called after her.

She paused, turning her head to look at him, "Yes, Adrian?" She answered with her softest smile.

"Thank you... For your kind words," Adrian said, smiling.

She nodded, "It’s alright, Adrian. Everything is going to be fine." She smiled again, and then she walked back into the kitchen.

Adrian smiled, his appetite suddenly returning.

"Everything will surely be fine," He murmured.

There was no way Alexander would keep him forever, at a point, he’d get tired and bored and release him. It wasn’t like they were on a journey ey of old and grey, right?

In the dimly lit hallway that led to the master’s suite, Alexander leaned against the wall, watching Adrian communicate with Angelica, and now, he was watching him eat.

Deep in his mind, a dangerous, domestic possessiveness was growing, slowly, but surely.