LOGINLUCIAN THRONE
I entered my office in my house with my secretary following me from behind.
I sit on my chair with my legs crossed." Did you get what I asked for?" I asked
"Yes sir." He handed me a file with the information I asked for Caelen.
I opened the file, reading the information. My secretary, Conrad William starts to recite the information.
"CAELEN VALENTINE, twenty-one years old. He lives in New York city, attends the Elite University, USA .
He is the third son of the Valentine family who owns a huge real estate business in USA, famous all over the country, But ....""But?" I asked
" He is the illegitimate son of the family. After ten years of marriage, his father started an affair with his secretary. Caelen is the result of that affair.
In his family, nobody seems to care for him. He is only there as a showpiece. So, their family doesn't have to go through a walk of shame.""What happened to the secretary?" I asked curiously.
"During the birth, the lady couldn't handle the pain and died while giving birth to him. Rumors are that his father's wife paid the doctors to kill her mother but we can't be sure as there is no evidence of the accusation."
I hummed at his words, and he continued.
"And yeah, one more thing. When he was thirteen years old. He gets molested by a group of gay people and he still seeks therapy for it but nothing helps. So, he indulges himself in drinking, sex and smoking weed.
The Most important thing is that he despise gay people."I looked at him, straight into his eyes, glaring at him. He knows my sexuality and still made a comment about it and even dared to highlight it.
"Get out of my office" I asked Conrad to leave.
Yeah! I am gay. I don't feel attracted to women. I found this out when I was fifteen years old. I used to play for my school football team and I started to feel attracted towards their muscular body.
At First, I was bisexual. I used to fuck every hole I get. Half of my life I spend experimenting with my sexuality.
But now I just fuck guys, Because they are easy to maintain."Well why would he hate all the gay men, that's so stupid."
Whatever it is, it is none of my business, he is going to be my brother-in-law. I should keep my distance from him.
I don't know why my sister found a homophobic person to hook up with.
Leave it. I put my thoughts aside and started to work on my new project ahead.At night, I am going down to have my dinner with my bodyguard by my side, Ilya. He is Russian and has been by my side since I slided into this business.
My late father allotted him to me. Since then he has been stuck by my side.Ilya Morozov, pale skin whiter than snow, blue eyes, sculpted jaw and 6'5.
He is also my best friend and gives fucking good advice but the fact aside it's more related to violence.This man doesn't talk but his fist speaks on a fucking loud speaker.I sit down on my chair on the dining table while Ilya sits beside me.
The maid starts to serve the food. While my sister came with her baby daddy by her side giving him physical support. If I didn't love my sister and she wasn't fucking pregnant with his child, I wouldn't even allow this man to become my chauffeur.She helps him sit on the chair.
Fantastic. Now I have to see my little sister doing stuff like this too." Didn't the doctor prescribe him a bed rest? What is he doing here?" I asked while sipping soup from my bowl.
"Well, I needed a change of environment. I was getting bored in that room" that stupid guy answered instead of my sister.
"And you thought it was a great idea to disturb my little sister who is by chance pregnant with your child" I gritted my teeth in anger.
"Well I wouldn't have done that if you wouldn't have beaten me like a maniac robot" he smirked.
The Audacity." Well you deserved it tho!" I answered with the same intensity.
" Stop it, you too. Just once think about my child before getting on each other's neck." She huffed.
"You need to calm, young mistress", Ilya senses her tension.I am seeing that since my sister got pregnant, Ilya has been too overprotective of her even more than me. Before he was always annoyed with her attitude.
Maybe because he likes kids and all.But he doesn't look like the type to appreciate a child.This motherfucker is more closed than a fucking box, it's so hard to get something on him.Suddenly, Conrad came up to me with tension displayed on his face and whispered to my ears.
" Sir, Mr. Caelens family has started to look for him in his absence. They have filed a police complaint for his missing"." You need to keep it a secret between us" I whispered back.
" But, sir." "Just do as I say"I nodded his head and turned back to leave.
His family has filed a complaint for him. Didn't his family hate him? It seems like there is more to the story than it looks.I need to delve deeper into it. Afterall He is going to be my brother-in-law and I need to check on his family's details for obvious reasons.I need to call Markus, I thought and went outside leaving the food untouched.
As I was walking towards the balcony, I called him. He is one of my most trusted men and can take out any information without anyone knowing.
After exactly three rings he picked up my call."How did you remember me today, yuvraaj" he said in his always mocking tone.
This guy can never be serious. "Markus, I have a job for you..."LIAM MARTIN'S POVI could barely focus. The world seemed to tilt sideways, the chatter and clinking glasses downstairs turning into an unintelligible hum. My vision swam in a haze of disbelief, confusion, and adrenaline. My knees felt weak—I had to lean into Grayson just to stay upright.“You’re going to be fine,” he murmured, his hands bracing me, steady as bedrock. I’d leaned against him without thinking, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with something warmer, more intimate, something only he carried. My pulse was a chaotic drum in my ears.“What… what’s happening?” My voice sounded thin, almost foreign. I felt my chest tighten painfully.“Shh,” he said softly, tilting my chin up. His thumb brushed over my jaw with that careful patience that made me want to melt into him entirely. “Just listen.”I nodded dumbly. Words wouldn’t form. My thoughts kept colliding: The party… the people… why is he like this?“I love you,” he said suddenly, almost breaking the fragile quiet
GRAYSON PITTMAN’S POVThe office had that same sterile chill it always did—the hum of the central air, the quiet buzz of the espresso machine, and the faint static of irritation coming from Caisen every time I so much as breathed in his direction. He sat across from me with his usual disdain, the type that made you wonder if he was born glaring.He had his feet on my coffee table and his hand halfway inside Lucian's assistant’s shirt. Typical.Caisen wasn’t mine to control, though heaven knew I’d tried once. I let him and his theatrics exist like a necessary chaos in an otherwise precise world.He was running his thumb along the waistband of Conrad’s jeans, smirking like a cat with feathers in its mouth. I didn’t bother hiding my sigh. “You two do remember this is an office, not an episode of something banned on network television?”Caisen gave me a look sharp enough to decapitate. “You called us here, Pittman. Don’t complain about what you invite.”I had, indeed. And now I almost reg
LIAM MARTIN’S POVThe kiss left a taste of espresso and regret on my tongue. I could still feel the press of his hands—steady, commanding, devastatingly gentle—lingering on my skin long after he pulled away. Grayson Pittman didn’t just touch; he claimed. Every brush of his fingers felt like a vow I wasn’t foolish enough to believe anymore.He stood there for a second, his expression unreadable, before muttering something about dinner. I nodded, mutely. He left the conservatory first, as if he hadn’t just rearranged the air I breathed. Typical.I followed minutes later, my lips swollen, my heart swollen stupidly more. The dining room was dimly lit, the kind of aesthetic Grayson liked—muted elegance, crystal glasses that probably cost more than my entire college degree. I sat opposite him, quietly eating the risotto Ratna had left warming on the side. He didn’t speak. Neither did I. Our silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was a ghost of something unfinished, waiting for one of us to flinch
GRAYSON PITTMAN'S POVThe door to the conservatory, which I had long since converted into Liam’s private studio, was slightly ajar. I pushed it open, the scent of cold americano and paper filling the air, a much-preferred aroma to the sterile smell of my office. He was hunched over a massive drafting table, his back curved like a parenthesis, illuminated by the focused arc of an architectural lamp. Ratna’s report was accurate: he hadn’t moved.He was sitting on a modernist chair—all sleek lines and hard plastic—and the sight of his strained posture sent a sharp, involuntary tremor of irritation through me. Every ache in his body, especially the lower back pain that must be radiating down his spine, was my fault. I owned that debt, and seeing him suffer needlessly, even physically, was unacceptable.“You’re going to ruin your spine,” I stated, my voice cutting through the silent focus of the room. I walked over, not waiting for a response, and snagged one of the overstuffed velvet p
GRAYSON PITTMAN'S POVThe granite slab of my conference table felt cold and solid beneath my palms, a necessary anchor in a world that had felt suspiciously fluid since dawn. I ran the final numbers on the acquisition details, my voice clipped and professional as I spoke to my assistant, Mark, standing across the vast, windowed room.“The deal closes by 16:00 today. If Sebastian’s team finds any unexpected liabilities in the final audit, move the funds back to the holding account immediately. I want no loose ends.” I paused, reviewing the timeline I’d put in place. “Clear my calendar starting at 17:00. Hold all non-urgent calls until tomorrow.”Mark nodded, already pivoting to execute the orders, but I stopped him. I needed a distraction, something mundane, before the memory of the previous night could breach the professional barricade I’d constructed.“Call Ratna. Ask her where Mr. Martin is.”Mark didn't blink at the intrusion of a domestic query into a billion-dollar negotiation; he
LIAM MARTIN'S POVThe first thing I registered was the dull throb behind my eyes, a familiar, unwelcome guest after a night of too much drinking. The second was the ache in my lower back, a deep, radiating soreness that had nothing to do with sleeping wrong. I squinted against the morning light that sliced through the balcony doors, a bright, unforgiving square on the polished wood floor. I was in my own room, the same stark white walls and minimalist furniture Grayson had set up for me. But my body felt like it had been put through a meat grinder.Fragments of last night came back in a slow, brutal trickle. The bar, the cold air on the balcony, the taste of Grayson’s absurdly expensive whiskey. My stupid, drunken confession about feeling like a charity case. And then, his voice, low and dangerous, cutting through the haze: Why don't you pay with your body?A wave of nausea hit me, a cold, sickening lurch that had nothing to do with the alcohol. I had done it again. Just like years ag







