CHAPTER 4 : Morning After and Secrets

Aiden groaned, the sound muffled by a pillow that felt far too expensive to belong to him. He yawned lazily, squinting as shards of aggressive morning sunlight pierced through the gap in the heavy velvet curtains. His head felt like it had been used for percussion practice, and his limbs were heavy, anchored by a deep, bone-deep lethargy.

"Wait… where am I?" he muttered, his voice cracking. He bolted upright, but the sudden movement sent a sharp, agonizing wince through his lower back and thighs. He froze, clutching the silk sheets to his chest. This wasn't the cramped, cinder block walls of the male dormitory. The room was palatial—enormous, with soft cream carpets that looked like clouds and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a manicured estate.

The steady rhythm of running water caught his attention. "Who's in the shower?" he whispered, his heart beginning to hammer against his ribs.

He tried to swing his legs out of bed, but another wave of soreness washed over him. He felt… used, but in a way that made his skin tingle with a confusing, electric memory.

Earlier that night…

The memories came back in fragmented, vivid flashes. Aiden had followed Damien into that private sanctuary, the air thick with the scent of expensive vodka and unspoken promises. They had spent hours in a dance of words—talking, drinking, and testing each other's boundaries. Aiden remembered the weight of Damien’s gaze, the way the man had dismantled his defenses with a single smirk. He remembered his own surprising boldness, fueled by the alcohol and a desperate need to forget Liner. He had reached out, touched the sharp line of Damien’s jaw, and realized that for the first time in his life, he didn't want to run away from something dangerous.

Back to the present…

Aiden’s thoughts drifted, his face heating up until his ears burned. Am I really feeling this way just from… that? He groaned, burying his face in his hands, before collapsing back onto the mountain of pillows.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door creaked open. Steam billowed out, followed by Damien. The man was wrapped in a low-slung white towel, his skin still glistening with droplets of water. Aiden froze, his breath hitching. He tried to look away, but he found himself sneaking glances at the powerful line of Damien’s shoulders and the effortless, predatory confidence in his stride.

"Are you okay?" Damien asked, nonchalantly toweling his dark hair. He noticed Aiden’s stiff posture and the way he was wincing.

"Yeah… I think so," Aiden replied, rubbing his temples to distract himself from the view. "I just… I feel a bit worn out. How much did I actually drink?"

Damien leaned against the bedpost, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face. "You didn't hold back, Aiden. And… well, you surprised me. You were significantly bolder than I expected from a 'straight' university student."

Aiden tilted his head, his chest racing. The way Damien said bolder made a strange, addictive warmth spread through his stomach. He felt exposed, stripped of his usual armor. "It… it won't happen again," he muttered, pulling the duvet higher. "It was the alcohol."

Before Damien could respond, a sharp knock sounded at the heavy oak door.

"Come in," Damien called out, his voice instantly shifting back to the cold, commanding tone Aiden had first heard.

The door opened to reveal Sean, a man whose professional exterior was as sharp as a razor. "Sir… Mr. Charles is ready for the briefing downstairs," Sean reported politely, keeping his eyes strictly away from the bed.

"I'll be out in a minute," Damien said, turning back to Aiden. His expression softened, just for a fraction of a second. "Don't leave yet. The doctor will be here shortly to check on you while I'm gone. You look like you can barely walk."

Aiden glanced out the window, puzzled. Doctor? Mansion? Private security? Wait, how did I end up here? But he didn't have time to dwell on the logistics of his kidnapping-turned-sleepover. As soon as Damien vanished into the walk-in closet, Aiden scrambled to find his clothes. He had to get out. This man was too much—too rich, too intense, and far too good at making Aiden forget his own name.

Later that morning, Aiden was hobbling toward his own doorstep when a shadow loomed over him.

"Dude! Where the hell were you?" Justine shouted, looking like he’d stayed up all night pacing. "You were supposed to be home by 2:00 AM!"

Aiden groaned, fumbling with his keys. "What are you doing here, Justine? I’m an adult, I have my own place…"

"That's harsh!" Justine shot back, following him inside. "I was worried! You vanished from the bar, and I saw those guys in suits. You know how dangerous that club can be! I thought you’d been organ-harvested!"

Aiden rolled his eyes, collapsing onto his own much-cheaper sofa. "I'm fine. I just… I need some rest and maybe a very long nap."

They sat in the kitchen, and Aiden explained what he could piece together from the night. Justine sat in stunned silence, his jaw dropping lower with every detail. "Man… I can't believe you actually went home with a guy like that. Do you even know who he is? What his last name is?"

"No," Aiden admitted, staring at his hands. "But he's… mysterious. And his mansion? Justine, the bathroom was bigger than my entire apartment." He shook his head, trying to ground himself. "It was a one-time thing. A lapse in judgment. It won't happen again."

Across the city, in a high-rise office that felt like a fortress, Damien was already submerged in cold reality.

"Boss, here's the full profile on the boy," Sean said, sliding a manila file across the desk.

Damien scanned the documents, his eyes narrowing. He ignored the photos of Aiden at school and went straight to the family history. "The Lawsons are still refusing to cooperate," Damien murmured. "Their financial situation is a disaster, yet they hold the deed to the harbor land."

Rex, leaning against the window, peered over. "Wait, so this student… this Aiden… is he the Lawson heir? The one they’ve been hiding?"

Damien closed the file with a decisive thud, a dark smirk playing on his lips. "Mind your business, Rex. He’s exactly who I thought he was."

He looked out at the skyline, thinking of the blond man who had looked so delicate against his sheets only hours before. Aiden thought it was a one-time mistake. Damien knew it was the first move in a much larger game.