CHAPTER 64: 64: SIGNED TO BE HIS

Adrian focused on the warm food, allowing the simple, grounding act of eating to push back the fear and humiliation. Angelica’s unexpected kindness had been a necessary balm, a small piece of humanity in a situation that felt increasingly dehumanising.

He finished the meal slowly, savouring the feeling of normalcy, and pushed the plate away. He stood up, carefully pushing his chair back to its original position. He owed Alexander his obedience, and that included not causing any more trouble.

He started walking toward the hallway that led to his room, intending to retreat into the only private space left to him.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he quietly closed his door, slowly sliding his back on it as he sat on the floor.

He stared at the room, trying to make himself view it as just a room and not a holding cell; but that’s what it was, a prison.

"This is my prison," he murmured, resting the back of his head on the door and closing his eyes for a while.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the sun rays streaming through his windows, brightening the room.

"Damn... I slept on the floor..." Adrian slowly leaned off the wall, massaging his neck.

"Ouch, it hurts," he muttered, cracking his aching neck, grunting.

He groaned as he lifted himself to his feet, walking toward his bed. He fell face-first on the bed, burying his face in the pillow.

"Uhhhh..." he clenched his fingers around the pillow, shutting his eyes tightly.

"How do I face him today? Ughh!" He pushed his face further into the pillow.

"What are you doing?" Alexander’s voice asked from the door.

Adrian froze, his fingers clutching the pillow tighter.

"Adrian?" Alexander frowned, walking toward the bed.

Adrian refused to lift his head, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, pulse spiking.

He wasn’t sure how tired face Alexander, today was officially the day he started a life as Alexander’s property. How was one supposed to face a boss whom he had a crush on, kissed a few times, and hated at the same time?

Slowly, he lifted his face from the pillow and looked up, his eyes blinking at Alexander, "Good morning, boss." He greeted, sitting up.

Alexander stared at Adrian and noticed how he was tilting his neck at a weird angle.

"Get up," He said, his face unreadable.

Adrian obeyed, standing on his feet to come face to face with Alexander.

"I needed you in my study twenty minutes ago, I called your phone, Angelica knocked on your door, yet you answered no one," he listed coldly.

Adrian’s eyes slightly widened, surprised that all these things had happened while he slept in a formal on a floor.

"I’m sorry, boss. I think I overslept," he lowered his eyes in apology.

"Apologies are the least thing I expect from you Adrian. You’re expected to give me your best services. I will not tolerate any form of slacking. Am I understood?" Alexander questioned, his blue eyes narrowing at Adrian.

Adrian went to nod but hissed quietly, he had forgotten the pain in his neck.

"What?" Alexander asked, stepping closer.

Adrian carefully shook his head, "Nothing, boss. I understand and I promise it will never happen again –"

"What happened to your neck?" Alexander lifted his hand and cupped Adrian’s neck, his fingers slowly massaging the muscles behind and around it.

Adrian’s eyes slowly fluttered shut, his lips parting slightly as he moaned from the relief he was getting from Alexander’s massage. Just what he needed at the moment.

Alexander didn’t stop, he stepped closer, his hand moving to Adrian’s waist to hold him in place as he co ginied his massage.

His fingers moved, but he was locked in on Adrian’s face, the expressions he made as he touched the right muscles were slowly undoing him, and this little sound Adrian made? Alexander could listen to the all year round without getting bored.

"Do you sleep like a bull? How did you twist your neck so bad?" Alexander found himself asking in a soft tone that surprised him.

"At the door... on the floor... slept on the floor," Adrian murmured, his eyes still closed as he enjoys the relief on his neck.

Alexander paused, causing Adrian to flutter his eyes open, "Don’t stop, it felt so good." He pleaded, eyes blinking slowly.

Alexander gritted his teeth and found his fingers moving again.

Adrian moaned again, the sound was like a reward in Alexander’s ears.

He cleared his throat, "Why did you sleep on the floor?" He asked sternly, but his fingers never lost their softness on Adrian’s neck.

Adrian licked his lips before replying, "I was too tired to make it to the bed... ahh... yes, Alex, right there," he bit his lip and moaned, his eyes shutting tightly.

Alexander’s entire body went rigid the moment Adrian’s voice dropped to that throaty moan, the sound of the forbidden name—Alex—delivered in the throes of pleasure. The soft, grateful plea was a devastating mixture of the subservient secretary and the sensual wife, a blend that completely bypassed Alexander’s executive defences.

His hand, which had been deftly working the tension from Adrian’s neck, instantly became a vice. He didn’t squeeze hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to command attention.

"Open your eyes, Mr. Cole," Alexander ordered, his voice dangerously low and thick, laced with both fury and overwhelming desire. His breathing, which had been steady, hitched violently.

Adrian’s eyes fluttered open, blinking slowly, still clouded with the languid relaxation the massage had provided. He looked up at Alexander, confused by the abrupt shift in atmosphere.

"Did you forget the rules already, Adrian?" Alexander ground out, his jaw clenched so tightly a vein popped out near his temple. His eyes were dark, burning down into Adrian’s face. "The name is Boss. And you do not use that seductive tone when you address me, especially not when I am addressing your defiance."

He leaned in, his face inches from Adrian’s, his breath hot against his skin. "You slept on the floor out of protest, didn’t you? A childish, passive-aggressive display because you didn’t want to submit to the terms."

Adrian shook his head quickly, wincing at the resulting twinge in his neck. "No, Boss, I—I was just tired. The bed was too far."

Alexander scoffed, a dry, harsh sound. "The bed was two steps away. You were making a statement, Adrian. And I will not tolerate silent defiance."

He removed his hand from Adrian’s neck, the sudden absence of the comforting warmth feeling like a brutal withdrawal. He stepped back, restoring the professional distance, but the heat of their earlier contact lingered in the air.

"My first order this morning," Alexander stated, his voice now cold, hard, and strictly business. "It is for you to understand the complete extent of your new reality."

He walked over to the closet in the guest room, opened the door, and pulled out a fresh, pressed white shirt and a pair of dark trousers—the standard uniform of Adrian, the perfect secretary.

"Get dressed. You will be presenting a financial report to the board this afternoon," Alexander instructed. "But before that, we are addressing your sleeping arrangements."

He walked back to Adrian, not quite touching him, but close enough to loom.

"You said you were too tired to walk to the bed. Fine. We will test the limits of your obedience right now."

Alexander reached out, taking Adrian’s hand and pulling him firmly, almost roughly, out of the room.

Adrian, still reeling from the sudden mood swing and the pain in his neck, stumbled along.

Alexander led him directly to the Master Suite. He threw open the door and dragged Adrian inside, pulling him across the expanse of the luxurious room toward the massive, untouched bed.

He released Adrian only when they stood right beside it.

"Look at that bed, Adrian," Alexander commanded, his voice low and dangerous. "It is where you will sleep tonight, and every night. And if I find you on the floor again, I will ensure you spend the rest of the week standing, without rest."

He turned Adrian to face him, his eyes boring into his. "You will not sleep alone, and you will not sleep where you choose. Your choice has been forfeited. Now, go get dressed. And Adrian," Alexander’s eyes narrowed, a possessive glint returning, "I suggest you take some pain relievers for that neck before you step into my study. I don’t need a secretary who is too weak to focus."

He then dismissed him with a subtle push toward the door. Adrian, completely subjugated, turned and rushed back to the guest room to obey the cold command. The fear was back, stronger than ever, now mixed with the confusing, volatile promise of desire.

A few minutes later, Adrian walked into Alexander’s study, all dressed and ready to walk.

He wanted to go over to the sofa he had occupied the first day he worked late at night with Alexander but Alexander’s voice stopped him dead.

"Come over here, Adrian," Alexander called darkly.

Adrian gulped, sensing that Alexander wasn’t about to discuss designs with him.

He walked toward the desk and stood in front of it, "Yes boss," he said quietly.

Alexander stood, his figure towering over Adrian by a great difference. He walked around his desk to stand in front of Adrian, jaws tightly clenched.

"My mother is coming... with Sebastian." He stated.

Adrian kicked his dry lips, "Um, do you need me to prepare anything in advance –"

"Don’t fucking play dumb," Alexander snapped, grabbing Adrian’s hand and pulling him flush against his.

"Boss, you’re hurting me," Adrian grunted as Alexander gripped his chin tightly, his jaw hurting.

"I can fucking hurt you because I own you, Adrian," Alexander whispered, his eyes burning into Adrian’s face.

"Please, you’re really hurting me –"

"I never said you could speak Adrian," Alexandee leaned in, his voice dropping low, "Always remember that you’re a property. You’re breathing because I permit. Do you understand?" He asked gravely.

Adrian’s eyes watered, his lips trembling as he fought a son from escaping them.

"What did I do? I came here just as you commanded, I’m obeying, boss. Do you really hate me that much?" Adrian asked, a tear slipping down the side of his eye.

Alexander muttered under his created and loosened his hand on Adrian’s chin, but his eyes didn’t soften.

"Sebastian is coming for you. Stop pretending like you don’t know. You heard what he said yesterday, he fucking loves you –"

"So what?" Adrian asked, his voice shaking as he cried.

Alexander paused, staring at Adrian with shock and something akin to fear.

"So what if he loves me, Alexander. You clearly don’t, you don’t have the right nonstop someone from loving anyone –"

"You’re wrong, Adrian. I have every right to stop him from loving you. You’re my property, you belong to me." Alexander whispered, his lips brushing Adrian’s ear.

Adrian gulped, placing his hands on Alexander’s chest, "Physically, yes. You might call me your property, but you can never truly own all of me, my thoughts are mine, my will, and my heart is fucking mine. I will love who I want to love, Alexander. You can’t change that." He pushed against Alexander’s chest and broke free from his hold, furiously wiping his tears.

Alexander grinned, "You’re challenging me? Because of Sebastian?" He stepped forward, standing in front of Adrian without touching him, "Do you love him, Adrian?" He asked, voice as smooth and dark as the deep waters.

Adrian smirked through tears, "I can say yes, and it’ll be a lie. I can say no, and it’ll still be a lie. That’s the power of my will and thoughts, Alexander, you can never own them, you only hear what I want you to hear. Not even your money or any contract can take that away from me," He said, grey eyes defiantly staring into heated blue ones.

The defiance in Adrian’s voice, coupled with the tears, was a volatile combination that ignited a new, furious kind of passion in Alexander. Adrian was no longer the timid secretary or the desperate wife; he was a challenging equal, armed with the only things Alexander couldn’t buy or contractually bind: his will and his heart.

Alexander’s eyes narrowed, the blue darkening to a stormy slate. He admired the courage, even as it stoked his proprietary rage. Adrian’s declaration—You can never truly own all of me—was a gauntlet thrown.