Ch. 5: Private Confessions

“You’re asking me to be the man who stands next to you when the world finds out.”

“I’m asking you to be the man I wake up next to,” Adrian corrected softly.

The words hit him like a physical touch. Ethan didn’t trust his voice, so he leaned in instead, kissing Adrian again slower this time, lingering like a promise neither of them knew how to keep. When they finally pulled apart, Adrian rested his forehead against Ethan’s. “Whatever happens, we face it together.”

Ethan nodded, even as a shadow of doubt flickered in his chest. He wanted to believe that was enough. He wanted to believe Adrian could protect them both from the world they were about to provoke. The penthouse lights were dimmed, the city spread below them in a glittering ocean of gold and steel. Ethan stood at the window, trying to convince himself this wasn’t a mistake. His reflection stared back at him, dark-eyed and hesitant, until Adrian’s arms slid around his waist from behind.

“Still thinking about running?” Adrian’s voice was low, teasing, but there was an edge of something deeper -need, maybe desperation. Ethan exhaled, leaning back against him. “I’m thinking about how fast this is moving.”

Adrian’s lips brushed the side of his neck. “I’ve waited long enough.”

That should have been the moment Ethan pulled away, but instead he turned in Adrian’s arms, hands gripping his shirt as if letting go might send them both tumbling into the life they were supposed to have. Their mouths met hungry, searching, like two people who had learned to hide everything finally letting the dam break. Clothes fell away in half-formed movements, laughter tangled with heavy breathing. They found the bed without really meaning to, the city lights painting their bodies in shards of silver.

Adrian traced a line down Ethan’s chest with his fingers, slow and deliberate. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured.

Ethan’s answer was a kiss that left them both breathless. “I think I do.”

It was perfect. For the first time in years, Adrian wasn’t the billionaire heir, and Ethan wasn’t the loyal assistant—just two men, tangled in each other, skin to skin, hearts too loud to ignore.

And then Adrian’s phone rang.

The sharp, jarring tone cut through the haze. He groaned, reaching over to check the screen. The name flashing there stopped him cold.

Cassandra Rossi.

Ethan froze, still catching his breath. “You going to answer?”

Adrian stared at the phone for a beat too long. “Not now.”

But it kept ringing.

With a frustrated sigh, he swiped to answer and put it on speaker. “Cassandra.”

Her voice was smooth, laced with that practiced charm she wore like perfume. “Adrian… working late again? You sound… busy.”

Ethan’s stomach knotted.

Adrian kept his tone even. “What do you want, Cassandra?”

“Oh, nothing urgent,” she said sweetly. “Just thought I’d check in. We are going to be family, after all. It would be nice to know where my fiancé spends his nights.”

The line went silent for a second too long, like she was listening to the air in the room, searching for something. Then, lightly, “I’ll see you soon.”

She hung up.

Adrian stared at the phone, jaw tight. Ethan sat up, every nerve on edge. “She knows,” he said quietly.

“Maybe,” Adrian replied. But there was a shadow in his eyes now, and Ethan knew whatever just shifted in the air between them, it wasn’t going away. Far across the city, Cassandra Rossi lowered her own phone with a slow, knowing smile. She had heard the hesitation in Adrian’s voice. The distance. Something was there and she intended to find it. She poured herself a glass of red wine, the rich liquid catching the golden glow of her penthouse lights. Her father, Marco Rossi, sat across from her, still in his tailored suit, eyes fixed on the evening news.

“You look pleased,” he said without looking away from the TV.

“I think Adrian Valerio is hiding something from me,” she replied, swirling her wine lazily. “And you know how I feel about secrets.”

Marco finally turned to her, his expression unreadable. “Secrets can be useful, Cassandra. If you control them.”

Her smile widened, slow and venomous. “Exactly my thought.”

Cassandra Rossi never trusted men who smiled too easily. Adrian Valerio, with his cold eyes and polite charm, smiled only when it served a purpose which made him harder to read, harder to control.

Lately, something was… off.

Adrian has been slipping away from public events. Coming home later. Taking phone calls in hushed tones. And when she asked, he brushed her off with a vague “business matters.” And Cassandra was prepared for that. She didn’t care about love..only status. If Adrian wanted to sneak around with a prostitute, fine. She’d catch him in the act, shatter his image, and walk away with more leverage than she could buy.

Her plan was simple: wait until he was comfortable and unguarded. Follow him then catch him in the act. That Friday evening, she dressed the part of the dutiful fiancée, attending Marco Rossi’s dinner without complaint. But the moment dessert was served, she made her excuse. “I should go to Adrian’s place. He’s been… stressed. I want to surprise him.”

Marco didn’t look up from his wine. “Surprise him with what? Your patience?”

She smiled faintly. “Something like that.”

Her real surprise was sitting in her designer purse: a brand-new phone, separate from her usual one, with nothing on it but a high-resolution camera and a storage app that didn’t sync to the cloud.

She had someone watching the building. It was one of her father’s drivers. He texted the moment Adrian arrived at the penthouse. “Alone,” the message read.

Good. She waited thirty minutes before making her move, ensuring he wouldn’t hear the elevator before she reached his floor. She told the concierge she had a key... half true, though she preferred her own methods.