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Chapter 2: He Checks My Phone At Midnight

Author: Yurivale
last update publish date: 2026-10-03 06:44:44

Milo was already in Lucien's shirt when Lucien got home.

Not his shirt. Lucien's shirt. The white one he wore to the morning meeting. It smelled like him — expensive cologne and cold winter air. It was too big, hanging off Milo's shoulder, showing the freckles on his collarbone.

Lucien stopped in the doorway of the penthouse. His tie was loose. He looked tired.

"You went through my closet again," he said.

Milo didn't look up from where he was sitting on their bed. He was on Lucien's phone.

"I went through your phone, too."

Lucien sighed and dropped his briefcase. "Milo."

"What? You left it on the kitchen counter. That's basically asking me to look."

He held the phone up. The screen was open to Lucien's messages. A name Milo didn't recognize.

Alex — Intern: Mr. Beaumont, thanks for today! Had fun at the lunch :)

Milo's voice was sweet. Too sweet.

"Who's Alex? And why is he having fun at lunch with my boyfriend?"

Lucien took off his jacket. "He's a new intern. Twenty-three. He was at the client lunch. It was a group lunch."

"Mm." Milo's thumb hovered over the message. "He used a smiley face. That's flirty."

"It's not flirty. It's an intern being polite."

Milo looked up then, and his eyes weren't sweet anymore. They were dark.

"Are you defending him?"

That was the shift. That was always the shift with Milo. One second he was a pretty boy in an oversized shirt, the next second he was something else — something that wanted to crawl inside Lucien's chest and live there so no one else could have him.

Lucien knew better than to argue. He walked to the bed and sat down.

"Give me my phone."

"No."

"Milo."

"No." Milo leaned back on his hands, the shirt riding up his thighs. "I deleted him."

"You what?"

"I deleted him and blocked him. And I told Lena to not schedule any more lunches without me." Milo said it like he was talking about the weather. "If you need to eat, you can eat with me."

Lena was Lucien's 54-year-old assistant. She had been with the company for twelve years.

"You can't fire my assistant."

"I didn't fire her. I told her to do her job better. Which is keeping random boys away from my boyfriend."

Lucien stared at him. Most people would be scared of Lucien Beaumont when he stared like that. The board members were. CEOs from other companies were.

Milo wasn't.

Milo crawled forward. He put his knees on either side of Lucien's lap, even though Lucien was still in his suit pants. He put his hands on Lucien's face.

"Why do you look mad?" Milo whispered. "You should be happy. I'm taking care of you. No one else will bother you."

"This is not taking care of me. This is controlling me."

Milo smiled. It was a beautiful smile. Freckles, soft lips, that little silver ring on his bottom lip catching the light.

"Yeah. It is."

He said it so honestly that Lucien didn't know what to say.

"I told you from the start," Milo whispered, his forehead touching Lucien's. "I don't share. I told you I was like this. You said you didn't mind."

"I didn't know you meant my phone and my assistant and my interns."

"I mean everything." Milo's fingers tightened in Lucien's hair. "Your phone. Your time. Your eyes. Who you look at. Who you think about when you're in those boring meetings. All of it is mine. Right?"

Lucien's breath caught. This was the part that no one else knew. The part that happened behind locked doors in a penthouse on the 58th floor. Outside, Lucien Beaumont was a billionaire who owned half of Manhattan.

Inside, he belonged to a 22-year-old boy with freckles who wore his shirts.

"Right," Lucien said quietly.

"Louder."

"Milo —"

"Say it." Milo's voice shook a little. That was the other thing no one knew. Milo wasn't controlling because he was strong. He was controlling because he was scared. Scared that Lucien would wake up one day and realize he could have anyone, someone better, someone less crazy. "Say you belong to me."

Lucien put his hands on Milo's waist, under the shirt. His hands were big and warm.

"I belong to you."

Milo exhaled like he'd been holding his breath all day. He melted. He always melted after Lucien said it.

"Good." He tucked his face into Lucien's neck. "Good boy. My good boy."

Lucien laughed, just a little. "I'm older than you."

"So what? You're still mine." Milo bit his neck, not hard, just enough to leave a mark. A mark that would show above Lucien's collar tomorrow. He wanted it to show. "Tomorrow you're wearing the blue shirt. The one I picked. Not the black one. The blue one makes you look less scary. Less people will talk to you."

"The blue shirt it is."

"And you're coming home at six. Not seven. Six."

"Six."

Milo pulled back and looked at him, eyes wet and bright.

"Are you mad at me? For deleting Alex?"

Lucien looked at this boy in his lap. This pretty, jealous, obsessive boy who thought love meant owning someone completely.

No. He wasn't mad. He was obsessed right back. He liked being owned. He liked that someone finally wanted him enough to be crazy about him.

"No," Lucien said. "I'm not mad."

Milo smiled again, that angel smile.

"Good. Because I also went through your calendar and canceled your dinner on Thursday. You're having dinner with me."

Lucien raised an eyebrow. "That dinner was with investors from Tokyo."

"They can wait. I can't."

And then Milo kissed him, soft and sweet and possessive all at once, like he was trying to kiss his name onto Lucien's mouth so no one else could ever kiss him again.

Lucien kissed him back. He let Milo push him back onto the bed. He let Milo sit on top of him and take his tie off and throw it on the floor.

Outside the penthouse, the city was glittering. Inside, Lucien's phone was on the floor, Alex the intern deleted and blocked, and a faint red mark was forming on Lucien's neck.

Milo looked down at it and whispered, "Perfect."

And then the penthouse lights went out.

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