Familiar Ground

The morning brought heavy rain showers that turned the city streets into dark mirrors. The black luxury car glided smoothly through the wet roads, heading toward Aurelius Luxe headquarters.

Praise sat in the back seat beside Dylan, the silence between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Last night’s confrontation still hung in the air like lingering smoke. Dylan had not mentioned the confidential file again, but the occasional sharp glance he directed at him made it painfully clear.

The suspicion had not faded.

Praise kept his expression carefully blank, though his pulse remained unsteady. One careless word the night before had nearly exposed everything. He had stood in that office with the report in his hands and almost destroyed the carefully constructed identity of Praise Renard.

Dylan finally broke the silence, voice low and controlled.

“You seemed… interested in Vanel Lense last night.” He slightly turned his head. “It was an unusual name. And the report looked serious.”

“It was company business. Not yours.”

“Understood, sir.”

Dylan’s gaze lingered on him for a long moment before he looked away. “You’re still coming with me today. Stay close. Don’t speak unless I tell you to. Don’t wander or touch anything that isn’t given to you.”

“Yes, sir.”

The car soon slowed in front of the towering glass building.

 Praise felt a strange tightness in his chest as he stepped out. This was the place where Vanel Lense had been destroyed. The same polished lobby, same cold elegance. And the same air of quiet power that had once made him feel small.

He followed Dylan inside, keeping half a step behind. Staff members straightened the moment they saw the CEO. Conversations died with lowered eyes. The entire atmosphere shifted around Dylan’s presence.

In the private elevator, the two of them stood side by side. The doors closed with a soft chime. Soft music played. Praise could feel the heat of Dylan’s body even without touching him. The scent of his cologne — dark, expensive, familiar, filled the small space.

Halfway up, Dylan suddenly reached out and pressed the emergency stop button. The elevator halted between floors with a gentle jolt.

Praise’s breath caught. “Sir?” He turned to face him fully

In the confined space he felt even larger, and more overwhelming. He stepped forward until Praise’s back pressed against the mirrored wall. Their reflections stared back at them from every angle.

“You still haven’t answered me properly,” He quietly said. “How do you know that name so well?”

Praise forced himself to meet those gray eyes. “I told you. Everyone in the industry knew who he was.”

Dylan’s hand rose, his fingers slid along Praise’s throat, feeling the rapid pulse beneath his skin. “Your heart is racing.”

“You’re standing very close, sir.” His thumb brushed over the faint mark he had left the night before. “You kiss like someone who’s been angry for a long time.”

“Maybe I have.” Praise’s fingers curled at his sides. Dylan leaned in until their mouths were almost touching. “Then show me.”

Their lips met. The kiss started slow, from a soft press, then a deliberate suck on Praise’s lower lip before deepening with purpose.

 Dylan’s tongue slid against his, tasting and claiming with controlled hunger. One hand stayed at Praise’s throat while the other gripped his hip hard, pulling him against the solid lines of his body.

Praise could feel exactly how hard he already was. A low, involuntary sound escaped his throat. The elevator suddenly felt far too small, the air thick and charged. Dylan’s thigh pressed between his legs, grinding slowly and deliberately until Praise was fully hard and aching against him.

Dylan broke the kiss just long enough to speak against his mouth, his voice rough. “Tonight. After work. My office again.”

He released the emergency stop. The elevator resumed its climb as if nothing had happened. Praise straightened his clothes with slightly trembling hands, his heart still pounding violently against his ribs.

When the doors opened on the executive floor, Dylan walked out without looking back. Praise followed, the taste of him still lingering on his tongue and the weight of the coming night already settling heavily in his chest.

The game was spinning faster than he could control.

And the worst part was that a dangerous, traitorous part of him no longer wanted it to stop.