CHAPTER 70: 70: ATELIER

Adrian stared at the crisp white cotton shirt in his hands. It felt impossibly heavy, the symbol of his professional servitude clashing violently with the sticky, intimate residue of the last ten minutes. He dragged the towel—now a discarded, damp memory of the floor—over his skin in quick, abrasive motions, trying to scrub away the lingering sensation of Alexander’s mouth and the scent of his own release.

He pulled on his trousers and the shirt, his fingers fumbling with the buttons. He had to redo the first two because his hands were shaking too badly. Every surface of his body felt hypersensitive: his mouth was swollen, his throat ached from swallowing, and the spot on his waist where Alexander’s fingers had dug in felt branded.

He glanced at his reflection in the wardrobe mirror. His eyes were too bright, his lips were red and slightly parted, and his skin was flushed, a high, feverish color that the shirt couldn’t hide. He looked completely ruined.

’Only I get to ruin you this perfectly.’

Adrian slapped his cheeks lightly, trying to force some composure back. He took a deep, shuddering breath, locking down the frantic, needy feeling Alexander had unearthed. Resentment. He clung to that feeling like a life raft; it was safer than the humiliating, desperate desire.

He opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Angelica was just walking down the hallway, her back straight and her steps quiet. She didn’t look back, but Adrian’s heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Had she heard? How much?

He followed her trail towards the dining room, his pace measured, mimicking the unhurried efficiency he used to display before Alexander broke him.

The dining room was vast, elegant, and sterile. Alexander was already seated at the head of the long mahogany table, impeccably dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, reading a financial paper. He looked completely composed, the very image of the powerful, distant CEO. There was no trace of the man who had been on his knees seconds ago, who had looked at Adrian with hungry, dark-eyed possession.

Adrian paused at the entrance, straightening his spine. He was no longer the broken, naked man against the wardrobe; he was Mr. Cole, Alexander’s efficient, professional secretary.

"Good morning, sir," Adrian said, his voice flat and perfectly even, ignoring the strain in his throat.

Alexander lowered the paper just enough to peer over the top, his eyes—the same blue eyes that had glared with primal hunger—sweeping over Adrian. A slow, private smile, barely a tremor of the lips, appeared and vanished. It was a secret agreement, a silent claim.

"Mr. Cole," Alexander acknowledged, his tone purely business. "Pour the coffee, please. I have several items for your attention this morning."

Adrian walked to the sideboard, his legs feeling oddly heavy and unstable beneath him. Angelica was placing a platter of scrambled eggs and bacon on the table. Her expression was neutral, but Adrian couldn’t meet her eyes. He focused intensely on the silver coffee pot, pouring a cup for Alexander and then one for himself.

"The merger details with Stirling will be finalized this afternoon," Alexander began, his voice snapping Adrian back to the present. "I need you to draft the final press release. Use the phrase, ’a new era of strategic synergy.’ Make it sound appropriately grand."

Adrian placed Alexander’s coffee, perfectly measured, exactly where the CEO liked it. "Yes, sir. Deadline?"

"Before noon. And before you start that," Alexander said, waving a hand dismissively towards the press release, "I want you to call Mrs. Dubois. Inform her that I won’t be attending the Gala next week alone, but I will be bringing you as my plus one."

Adrian froze, the spoon clattering slightly against the rim of his own coffee cup. "Sir?"

Alexander finally folded the paper, placing it neatly beside his plate. His gaze finally lifted, meeting Adrian’s across the distance of the table, and this time, the heat was undeniable, the possession overt.

"A secretary’s duty, Mr. Cole, is to represent his boss. You will go, you will be charming, and you will make sure everyone knows exactly who you work for. Consider it a test," Alexander said, his eyes glittering. "I want to see how well you handle yourself when you’re on my direct sigh in public... after the way I’ve just claimed you."

He took a slow sip of coffee, his lips curling faintly over the rim. "Now, get yourself some breakfast. You’re going to need your strength today."

Adrian stood by the sideboard, feeling a chilling wave of realization. Alexander wasn’t just controlling him in private; he was now pushing Adrian into the public eye as an extension of his ownership. The resentment tightened in his chest, but beneath it, the humiliating, inescapable heat of Alexander’s attention flickered back to life.

Adrian managed to force down half a slice of toast, the dryness in his throat making every swallow a chore. The thought of being Alexander’s "plus one" at a public gala, under Alexander’s calculating gaze, made his stomach twist. It wasn’t just the public scrutiny; it was the chilling awareness that Alexander was intentionally blurring the lines, exposing their twisted dynamic to the outside world.

He was gathering his notes when Alexander’s phone rang, the sophisticated chime cutting through the heavy silence of the dining room. Alexander glanced at the caller ID, and a faint, almost imperceptible line appeared between his brows. He answered with a crisp, professional tone.

"Xueyi. Good morning."

Adrian froze, his hand tightening around his pen.

Xueyi.

Adrian had always sensed an underlying tension whenever she called, making him feel uncomfortable.

Adrian focused intently on arranging the silverware on the sideboard, straining to catch the conversation.

"Yes, I saw the preliminary report on the Sterling merger... That’s generous of you. Thank you." Alexander paused, listening. "I’m afraid I’m tied up... Ruiyan’s atelier? Why there?" Another pause, longer this time.

Adrian saw Alexander’s blue eyes flick to him, sharp and possessive, before quickly looking away.

"...Ah, I see. A presentation of the new line. Very well. Yes, I understand the importance of the visual aesthetics for the upcoming bid. But Xueyi, I assure you, my time is extremely limited."

Xueyi must have pressed the issue. Alexander leaned back, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "And you insist I bring Adrian? Why, exactly?" He waited, his expression hardening. "He’s my secretary, not a model for your show, Xueyi. Unless this involves a definitive business advantage, I’m afraid he stays here."

Adrian felt a rush of unexpected heat—jealousy. Alexander was openly resistant to Xueyi’s request to see Adrian, treating the suggestion as an infringement on his private property. The protective edge in Alexander’s voice sent a confusing jolt of warmth through Adrian, even as he internally recoiled from the implication of ownership.

Finally, Alexander sighed, a sound of reluctant capitulation. "Fine. I’ll meet you there in forty minutes. Yes, I’ll bring Mr. Cole. Goodbye, Xueyi."

Alexander ended the call and tossed the phone onto the table with a distinct clatter.

He looked up at Adrian, his irritation palpable. "Cancel my 9:00 AM meeting, Mr. Cole. The Stirling merger is now an excuse for Ms. Lin to drag me to a fashion presentation at Ruiyan’s atelier. Apparently, she believes the atmosphere of high fashion is essential for ’establishing synergy’ before the final bid."

He stood, adjusting the cuffs of his suit jacket. "You are required to come with me. Xueyi was quite insistent. I need to maintain the appearance of cooperation with her firm, but I will not be distracted. You will only stay where my eyes can see you. Understood?" He asked.

Adrian felt a knot form in his stomach. Going to the atelier, being presented to Ruiyan... he knew exactly whatntjis was. Xueyi was setting him up with her daughter.

’I feel like I’m cheating on him,’ Adrian realized with a horrifying clarity. The thought was absurd. There was nothing between them but a violent, humiliating contract. Yet, being forced into Ruiyan’s presence, knowing Alexander felt jealous, made him feel disloyal to the destructive bond they shared.

"Yes, sir," Adrian replied, his voice flat. He quickly gathered his items.

The silence in the chauffeured car was heavy and suffocating, thick with unspoken resentment and lingering sexual tension. Alexander was staring out the window, his jaw set, radiating silent fury. Adrian kept his gaze fixed on his hands resting in his lap, unable to maintain the usual professional calm.

Finally, the tension became unbearable.

"Sir," Adrian began quietly, "you seem... angry. Is there a problem with the Stirling merger I need to address?"

Alexander didn’t immediately respond. He turned his head slowly, his blue eyes meeting Adrian’s across the expanse of the back seat.

"And why, Mr. Cole, do you assume I should be angry?" Alexander asked, his voice dangerously even. "Do you think I should be angry that a business partner finds my choice of secretary to be... desirable company?"

Adrian winced at the veiled reference to Xueyi’s insistence on his attendance. He felt a sharp sting of pain, quickly replaced by a familiar, defensive sadness. Alexander had just reduced Adrian’s value to his association with the CEO.

"I was merely asking, sir. You seemed agitated by the call." Adrian kept his reply short, letting his tone convey his hurt without overtly challenging his boss.

Alexander continued to stare at him, his expression unreadable. "Do you like Ruiyan, Adrian?" he asked, using Adrian’s first name suddenly, unexpectedly. The shift in formality was jarring, making the question feel intensely personal.

Adrian took a deep breath, meeting Alexander’s challenging gaze with a clear, steady look of his own. He was done hiding this part of himself. It was a truth Alexander needed to understand.

"No, sir, I do not ’like’ Ruiyan in that way," Adrian stated slowly and clearly, making sure every word was pronounced precisely. "I am gay, Alexander. I do not have romantic or sexual feelings for women. I only take Ruiyan as a friend and an acquaintance... a friend."

The air in the car seemed to solidify. Alexander’s blue eyes narrowed slightly, processing the deliberate, firm declaration. Adrian held his breath, waiting for the inevitable harsh, homophobic response, or perhaps another wave of cruel, possessive mockery.

After a long moment, Alexander simply turned his head back to the window.

He murmured one word, almost too low to be heard over the hum of the car engine:

"Good."