Chapter 4:Two kings (Kingdom collide)

The skyline of the city was glistening with the heaviness of the twilight approaching closer to the day. Looking from the skyscraper 

From where the uppermost level of Van Eden Enterprises, a glass edifices reaching towards the stars, the world appeared subdued controlled. Yet within the CEO's exclusive suite, authority was rapidly diminishing.

Ace walked back and forth, his silk shirt partially undone, his body still humming from their intense confrontation. The atmosphere was thick with desire, aspiration, and past injuries. He could still sense Julian's lips on his neck, that sting of vengeance hidden as longing.

He gazed at the bar cart situated in the corner. Whisky? Tequila? Or perhaps nothing at all because if he dulled the edges, he wouldn’t sense the fractures that Julian’s return had inflicted on his meticulously organized life.

The door squeaked.

Ace spun around, heart constricting. Julian strode in as if he ruled the entire skyline, as if their past had never been shattered. Yet his eyes—they conveyed a tale. Not gentleness, not Appetite. Profound his relentless, and untamed.

Noah donned a navy designer suit that accentuated every sinful curvy of his physique, without a tie, his shirt slightly unbuttoned to show the tattoo close to his heart Ace almost licked off his Chest. Then the one Ace followed after midnight confessions and silk-sheet revelations.

"I assumed you were gone," Noah said, his voice strained.

“I have.”Ace's spoke in a laid-back manner. Way too informal. “However, I recalled something.”

Ace lifted an eyebrow. “Allow me to take a wild guess.” My penis?

Noah grinned, walking nearer. “Among various aspects.”

They faced each other directly, tension resembling a stretched wire.Noah took a deep breath, yet Noah's didn’t seek consent. He cradled Ace's jaw, his thumb brushing against the edge of his lips.They were both wet like peeing baby

"You kiss as if you still care for me."

Noah pushed his hand aside, yet not before relishing the sting. “I kiss as if I despise defeat.”

“Oh, darling,” Julian whispered. “We both lost when we ceased to fight for one another.”

Noah despised the wa

y those words tore him apart.

The boardroom buzzed with tension as Ace Rotherwell entered—black tailored suit sharp enough to slice through glass, accompanied by a signature smirk that concealed years of hurt. His mere presence was sufficient to silence conversation. Sinclair Studios had held numerous gatherings before, yet this one looks exactly like a battlefield in disguise.

Noah Sinclair lounged at the lengthy marble table as if it were his birthright—wearing a white, freshly pressed shirt with rolled sleeves, tattoos visible, a gold Cartier bracelet shimmering while he casually browsed a proposal. He remained staring down. Not immediately.

They hadn't communicated since that evening.

That evening, as the penthouse walls resonated with falsehoods, affection, and a farewell that broke them apart. Yet here they stood, pulled back into one another's influence by chance, media chaos, and their families' unending desire for control.

"Glad you could make it, Ace," Noah remarked, finally raising his gaze, his voice smooth yet tinged with that familiar edge of hostility.

Ace kept his eyes wide open. "You are familiar with me." "Consistently tardy to dull gatherings."

The audience laughed uneasily.

The fathers—two moguls, two adversaries had orchestrated this joint leadership as a strategy to mitigate the falling out after Noah's high-profile scandal nearly ruined the company. However, it wasn’t solely focused on appearance. It revolved around control, vengeance, and the wildest love affair that remained incomplete.

While strategies were discussed and charts circulated, their stares pierced the table, waging a quiet battle.

Following the meeting, Ace rode the elevator by himself. At least that was his belief.

"You still have on the cologne I gifted you," Noah remarked, sneaking in before the doors shut.

Ace tightened up.

Noah moved closer. "Either you’re nostalgic or you’ve forgotten how I enjoyed taking that suit off you while it was still new."

The elevator jolted a bit. Tension escalated more quickly than the levels.

"You don't belong here," Ace murmured.

"Nor should you." "Yet, here we stand."

Memories erupted like flames.

Three years prior.

Their love had previously been charged by aspiration and dreams. Ace had recently been awarded Forbes’ Young CEO of the Year, while Noah was the nation’s beloved luxury designer, appearing on every runway and red carpet with a blend of elegance and controversy.

They encountered each other at a style event. Ace had been completely uninterested, while Noah had been intoxicated with champagne and self-importance.

“You’re the most beautiful jerk I’ve ever encountered,” Noah had said with a wink.

“And you’re the most impolite charmer at Versace,” Ace responded, taking a sip of his martini.

Embers. They didn’t fall; they crashed. And for some time, the universe spun around their allure. Hotel rooms transformed into realms. Work meetings transformed into a form of foreplay. Media tours blended into exclusive jet escapes.

But then the flames arrived.

Envie. Mysteries. A filmed altercation in public.

Noah had claimed that Ace was exploiting him for his image. Rome charged Julian with undermining agreements due to envy. Their affection, once intense, transformed into a conflict zone. The ultimate strike occurred during Milan's Fashion Week. Words were tossed. Similarly, there was a glass of red wine.

And Noah departed with all, apart from Rome’s heart.

"You allowed me."

Noah, just turning twenty-three, had recently received a portion of his father's share. Ace, now a legend, had mentored him.

They were captivating, perilous, infatuated. Late-night gatherings transformed into sexual encounters on conference tables. Divided beverages led to envious altercations. What began as a tease escalated into a complete affair that almost destroyed everything.

Their affection was intense. Despairing. Habit-forming.

Noah desired something greater. Ace had shoved him aside.

Then arrived the treachery: released images, the public relations disaster, and Ace opting for quiet instead of Noah.

Returning to the current time, the elevator chimed.

Noah obstructed the exit with a single hand.

"Have you ever considered what might have happened or how I was gonna feel if you had stood up for me rather than giving in?".

Ace gazed, teeth gritted. "Each and every day."

In a surge of reckless appetite, they collided with one another.

Lips met, warmth intensifying, tongues vying for dominance. Ace pressed Noah against the mirrored wall, fingers beneath his shirt, nails grazing his skin as if he aimed to compensate for years lost in mere moments.

Noah groaned into his mouth. "Are you still upset?" "Still yours?"

Ace snarled, gnawing on his lower lip. "Forever."

They separated just as the elevator doors opened on Ace's penthouse level.

Noah adjusted his shirt, his chest heaving quickly. "Catch you in the battle tomorrow, Mr. Rotherwell."

Ace straightened his tie, yet his eyes shouted turmoil.

"It isn't war," he whispered. "It's work that remains to be done."

As Noah strolled off with a grin, Ace understood: he had returned to Noah’s realm. He was once more starting to lose himself.

The empires had clashed. And everything would change forever.

Now…

“You didn’t need to return,” Ace remarked, as he poured himself a drink. Desiring the sensation of a burn.

Noah simply shrugged. "Nevertheless, I find myself here." "Requested."

"I asked you to join as Creative Director." "Not my damn downfall."

Noah grinned slyly. "Too late now."

They were flames and fuel once more igniting, perilous, intoxicating. Noah moved nearer, his hand grazing Ace's lower back.

"You believe you can withstand me?" he murmured.

"I have already completed it." "Three years back"

“Crap.”

Ace shifted to confront him completely. “You abandoned me.”

You allowed me 

Noah stormed back at him