Chapter 3

Julian actually arrived on time the next day, which surprised the housekeeper enough to raise her brows. His hair was brushed, his shirt cleaner, though his eyes still carried the faint shadow of tired nights. He walked into the study with a smirk, trying not to look as though he’d put in effort.

Aiden was already seated, as always. He didn’t comment on Julian’s improved appearance. He simply slid a fresh worksheet across the desk. “Good. Now we won’t waste thirty minutes.”

“Wow,” Julian said, sinking into his chair. “Not even a hello?”

“Hello,” Aiden replied flatly. “Now, solve question one.”

Julian rolled his eyes but picked up the pen. His smirk faltered when he saw the numbers. “You really don’t believe in warm-ups, do you?”

“No,” Aiden said. “Life rarely gives you warm-ups.”

Julian scribbled an answer, deliberately sloppy. He shoved the paper forward. “There. Done.”

Aiden scanned it once. “You skipped two steps. Try again.”

Julian groaned. “You’re relentless.”

“I’m consistent,” Aiden corrected. “There’s a difference.”

Julian chuckled under his breath. He bent over the paper again, trying to focus, but his eyes kept straying upward.

Aiden’s sleeves were rolled to his elbows today, revealing strong forearms. His hazel eyes narrowed as he studied the page in front of him, and the way his lips pressed together when he read made Julian stare longer than he meant to.

Julian shook himself. What was he doing? He forced his gaze back down. Numbers. Focus.

“Wrong again,” Aiden said after a minute. He circled the mistake with his pen. “If you keep rushing, you’ll never improve.”

Julian leaned back with a sigh. “Maybe I don’t care about improving.”

“Then why are you here?” Aiden asked calmly.

Julian hesitated. The obvious answer was because his father forced him. But something inside him didn’t want to admit that anymore.

Instead, he shrugged. “Because you’re impossible to argue with.”

Aiden arched a brow. “That’s not a reason. Do it again.”

Julian groaned but bent over the problem once more.

They worked in silence for a while. Aiden corrected, Julian resisted, then eventually followed through. The steady rhythm filled the room.

Finally, Julian dropped his pen and said, “You know, I hate business school. The numbers, the economics, the case studies. It’s all chains my father locked on me.”

Aiden glanced up but didn’t comment.

Julian leaned forward. “You probably think I’m lazy. Maybe I am. But I didn’t ask for any of this. I don’t want to sit in an office building my whole life. That’s his dream, not mine.”

Aiden’s expression stayed even. “What’s your dream, then?”

Julian froze. No one ever asked him that. He usually drowned the thought with alcohol or noise. He stared down at the desk. “I don’t know. Something different. Something not controlled by him.”

Aiden studied him for a moment, then tapped the worksheet. “Then prove it by finishing this. Because no matter what you choose, discipline will follow you.”

Julian frowned. “You sound like a quote book.”

“Better than sounding like an excuse book,” Aiden said.

Julian laughed softly despite himself. “You really don’t let up, do you?”

“No,” Aiden said simply.

They worked another hour. Julian caught himself staring again, this time at Aiden’s hands as they moved over the paper, his neat handwriting precise compared to Julian’s messy scrawl. When their fingers brushed briefly over a shared pen, Julian pulled his hand back too quickly, heat rushing to his face.

Aiden didn’t react. Or if he noticed, he gave no sign.

“Pay attention,” Aiden said firmly.

Julian coughed, pretending to focus on the worksheet again. But his heart beat faster than it should.

When the lesson ended, Aiden stacked his notes neatly. “You did better today.”

Julian tilted his head. “Did I just get a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it,” Aiden said, slipping his papers into his folder.

Julian grinned. “I think you like teaching me, even if you won’t admit it.”

Aiden met his eyes, steady and unreadable. “I like progress. That’s all.”

For a moment, neither of them looked away. Then Aiden rose, nodded once, and left the study.

Julian sat back, tapping his pen against the desk, a small smile tugging at his lips.

He’d sworn he would chase this man away. But Aiden wasn’t running. He was different. And for reasons Julian didn’t want to name yet, that difference was starting to matter.