Ch. 6: The Trap

The penthouse door was unlocked. That alone made her suspicious. Adrian was meticulous, especially about security.

She stepped inside. The place was quiet, the lights dim, but the faint sound of running water carried from down the hall.

Her lips curved.

A shower.

She walked slowly, silent on the marble floor, the phone already in her hand. She expected to hear the laugh of a woman. High heels kicked to the side. A red dress crumpled near the sink.

Instead, she froze.

Through the partially open bathroom door, the steam curling into the hall, she saw him.

Adrian.

And Ethan.

Adrian’s back was pressed to the glass shower wall, droplets sliding over his shoulders, his head tilted back in something that made Cassandra’s pulse stutter. Ethan was in front of him, hands gripping his hips, his big cock in his mouth moving hungrily, breath sharp and ragged.

And it shook Cassandra more than she cared to admit

For three seconds, Cassandra just stared, caught between disbelief and fascination. Then her instincts snapped into place.

She lifted the phone. Pressed record.

The camera caught everything including the slide of Adrian’s fingers over Ethan’s jaw, the low groan he tried to swallow, the way Ethan whispered something that made Adrian’s hands fist against the glass.

Her nails dug into her palm as she realized: Adrian’s control, the icy facade he wore in every room, had dissolved completely here. And not for her. Not for any woman.

But for a man.

She leaned against the wall, keeping to the shadows where the steam wouldn’t betray her. A hundred thoughts tore through her head, each one more dangerous than the last..

This was a kind of thing that could ruin political deals, damage the Valerio empire, maybe even destroy Adrian’s place in it and she could use this to her advantage.

When she had enough footage, she stopped recording and stepped back, careful not to let the door creak. She moved like smoke through the hallway, retracing her steps to the entrance.

The champagne bottle she had brought as part of the “fiancée surprise” sat untouched in her bag. It felt absurd now. She almost laughed at herself for thinking Adrian was hiding some low-class mistress.

Instead, he was hiding this.

And that was far more valuable than anything she had imagined.

By the time she reached the elevator, her smile had returned but it was sharper now, edged in glass.

Her driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror as she slid into the back seat.

“Did you see him?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” she said, buckling her seatbelt with unhurried precision. “I saw everything.”

She didn’t elaborate. She simply pulled up the video, letting it play silently in her lap, the screen glowing in the dark car. Adrian’s face in pleasure. Ethan’s name on his lips.

She watched it again and again until they reached her building.

*At Marco Rossi’s Study*

Her father was still awake, as she knew he would be. He looked up from a stack of papers when she walked in. “Well?”

Cassandra set her purse down and handed him the phone.

“No street rat. No prostitute. Something better.”

He tapped the screen, the video playing without sound. His expression didn’t change, but his eyes darkened.

“Interesting,” he murmured.

“More than interesting,” Cassandra replied, sinking into the chair opposite his desk. “This isn’t just a weakness. This is ammunition. He’s lied to his family, to mine, to the public. And when the right people see this…” She trailed off, letting the implication hang.

Marco smiled faintly. “You’ve outdone yourself, daughter.”

Back in the penthouse, the water was still running.

Adrian pressed his forehead to Ethan’s, the steam wrapping around them like a shield from the outside world.

“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” Ethan said between breaths.

“I don’t care,” Adrian murmured, pulling him closer.

Neither of them knew that the trap had already been sprung.

The bathroom was a haze of steam, soft trails curling along the frosted glass and slipping through the crack of the half-open door. Water still dripped rhythmically from the showerhead, the scent of cedar soap lingering thick in the air.

Adrian reached for a towel first, his movements deliberate, but there was no denying the heaviness in his shoulders. He pressed the fabric against his damp skin, wiping slowly, almost absentmindedly. Ethan followed, his hair darkened to a deeper chestnut, strands plastered to his forehead. The sight of Adrian, silhouetted by the warm bathroom light, pulled at him — not with desire this time, but with a deeper ache.

Adrian caught his gaze, then gave a weary smile. “What are you staring at?”

Ethan shrugged, rubbing at his arms with his own towel. “You. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look… soft.”

Adrian barked out a short laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Soft isn’t exactly something I’m allowed to be.” He turned toward the sink, gripping its edge with both hands, his reflection in the mirror looking almost haunted.

Ethan tilted his head. “Allowed?”

Adrian’s jaw tightened. “My father has always told me softness is weakness. That emotions… emotions make men useless. He says if I want to lead the Valerio Group, I have to be iron. Cold. Untouchable.”

Ethan moved closer, his voice gentle but probing. “And do you believe him?”

A silence stretched, broken only by the faint dripping of the shower. Adrian’s hands whitened against the porcelain sink. “No. But sometimes I feel like I don’t have a choice.” He let out a long breath, eyes glassy. “The only person who ever made me feel like it was okay to be myself was my mother.”

That name hung heavy in the air, unspoken but present. Ethan lowered his towel and leaned against the counter beside him. “Tell me about her.”

Adrian’s throat bobbed. He pushed a hand through his damp hair, forcing a smile that immediately wavered. “She was… everything. Intelligent. Gentle. She was valedictorian at her university — brilliant with numbers, brilliant with people. She had this way of making a room warmer just by being in it.” His voice cracked slightly, but he pushed on. “My father… he wasn’t like that. He had money, came from a dynasty. He swooned her with his wealth, his power. She told me once that he made her feel like the luckiest woman alive.”

“And then?” Ethan prompted softly.

Adrian’s lips trembled. He looked down, gripping the counter as though it could anchor him. “And then he took over Valerio Group. It consumed him. He became… obsessed. With control. With expansion. With crushing competition. He stopped coming home for dinner. Stopped listening. Stopped seeing us. My mother… she tried to hold on. Tried to keep smiling for me.”

The bathroom light flickered slightly, throwing shadows across Adrian’s face. He swallowed, voice raw now. “And then she got sick. Multiple myeloma. It’s… it’s a cancer of the bone marrow. Eats away at you from the inside. She was so strong, Ethan. She fought so damn hard. But he—” His voice broke. He turned his head, blinking fast. “He wasn’t even there half the time. Board meetings were more important than his dying wife.”

Ethan felt a lump rising in his own throat. He touched Adrian’s forearm, warm from the shower, damp under his fingers. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

Adrian finally looked at him, eyes rimmed with red. “She was the only woman I ever loved, Ethan. The only one who ever loved me for who I am. Not for what I have.” His voice dropped lower, shaking. “I feel like I failed her. Like I wasn’t enough to keep her here.”

Ethan stepped closer, wrapping both hands around Adrian’s. He forced him to turn, to face him fully. “Don’t do that to yourself. You were her son. You were everything to her. And you are not weak for missing her, Adrian. You are not weak for feeling.”

Adrian let out a shaky laugh, half-sob. “My father would disagree.”

“Then your father’s wrong.” Ethan’s voice was firm, unwavering. “You’re human. You’re allowed to bleed. You’re allowed to hurt. You’re allowed to need.”

Something in Adrian’s eyes softened, broke. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Ethan’s, damp strands of hair mingling. “Sometimes, when I’m with you, I feel like I can breathe again. Like I don’t have to wear the mask.”

Ethan smiled faintly. “Then don’t. Not with me.”

The silence stretched again, but this time it was warm. Heavy, yes, but warm. They both let their towels fall aside, walking slowly into the bedroom. Adrian collapsed onto the bed first, lying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling as though it were a starless night sky. Ethan joined him, lying close but not touching at first, giving space.

Finally, Adrian turned his head. His voice was quieter now, stripped bare. “What about you? You know my ghosts now. Tell me yours.”

Ethan exhaled, staring up at the same ceiling. “I dated a girl once. Thought I was in love.” He chuckled softly, almost self-deprecating. “I think I was more in love with the idea of being ‘normal’ than with her.”

Adrian rolled his head toward him, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Normal’s overrated.”

“Yeah,” Ethan agreed, turning his face too, close enough that their noses almost brushed. “I learned that the hard way.”

Adrian’s laughter was low, genuine this time. The sound loosened something in the air, softening it.

They stayed there, side by side, breaths syncing slowly, hearts beating in unison. No more words were needed.

And then, at last, the light faded.