LOGINShare
Twelve: The Cost Of Proximity
Last Updated:
2025-06-08 15:45:11Lillium Roosevelt
"Good," he said, the word crisp, final. We stood there in the stillness of that opulent room, neither of us moving. Sunlight, fractured by the beveled glass of the towering windows, painted shifting patterns on the Persian rug. The air, perfumed with the subtle scent of antique leather and something indefinably expensive, felt suddenly thin. His eyes remained locked on mine, unwavering, unblinking—like he was daring me to flinch, to look away first. I didn’t. Something passed between us in that moment—thick and wordless. It wasn’t dominance, not exactly. It wasn’t desire either. It was something heavier, quieter. An understanding that whatever line had existed between us was gone now, vaporized by the ink still drying on the contract. And yet… neither of us moved. The weight of the commitment I had just made settled on my shoulders, pressing down with the force of a physical burden. The spra
Latest chapter
The Billionaire's Sunshine Eighty-Seven: The Boy in The River
Lillium RooseveltHours had passed since we left London behind, the hum of the jet’s engines becoming background noise to the steady rise and fall of Adam’s breathing beside me. We’d barely spoken.He sat there, shoulders squared but relaxed, pen in hand as he scanned over a neat stack of documents Chavez had passed him earlier. Every now and then, his thumb would drag idly across the edge of the paper, his gaze locked on the words as if they held the power to keep his thoughts in check.I knew better.This wasn’t about work. This was about distraction.I shifted slightly in my seat, my shoulder brushing his arm. Still, he didn’t look at me. It wasn’t avoidance—it was that deep kind of focus people slip into when they’re trying not to feel something.I couldn’t take it anymore.My voice was softer than I expected when I spoke, almost hesitant, as if I were stepping into a room I wasn’t sure I belonged in.“Aiden Scott Lew
The Billionaire's Sunshine Eighty-Six: Between Graves and Gates
Adam Lewiston London in the morning had a way of looking almost too perfect—washed in pale gold light, the kind that softened the edges of its sharp, old-world architecture. The car was silent except for the low hum of the engine and the occasional click of Ms. Chavez’s nails against her tablet screen in the front seat. She was murmuring through emails to herself, scanning numbers and schedules for when we landed. James drove with the calm efficiency of a man who could navigate these streets blindfolded. Beside me, Lu sat quietly, his gaze fixed out the tinted window. His profile caught the morning light, the faint curve of his cheekbone, the softness of his mouth at rest. His hand was in mine—light at first, almost tentative—until I began tracing my thumb along his knuckles. He didn’t pull away. I wasn’t sure how long we’d been holding hands. Maybe since we left the estate. Maybe since before
The Billionaire's Sunshine Eighty-Five: The House Of Two Sons
Adam LewistonThe house was quiet in the way only large estates could be—hushed, cavernous, the kind of stillness that made you feel every footstep.I woke in the middle of the night without knowing why. No dreams, no sound to rouse me. Just a sudden awareness, a restlessness in my chest. The bed was warm, the room dim, the moonlight spilling pale through the curtains. Lu was asleep beside me, his breathing steady, the faint curve of his body facing my side of the bed.I sat there for a moment, watching him, before I swung my legs over the side and reached for the silk black robe hanging on the chair. The fabric whispered against my skin as I tied the belt, my bare feet carrying me to the door.The corridor was cold. I didn’t turn on the lights—just followed the faint glow from the sconces lining the hall until I reached the stairs. My intention was simple enough: the kitchen, a glass of something—milk, wine, maybe both—then back to bed.
The Billionaire's Sunshine Eighty-Four: Threaded Back To Life
Lillium RooseveltThe scent of antiseptic still clung to Adam like it refused to let go, as if even the sterile world didn’t want to release him too soon. He was sitting upright now, legs dangling off the edge of the bed, his fingers toying with the edge of his IV bandage as the doctor went over the discharge instructions.“Vitals are steady,” the doctor said, flipping the chart once more before signing something at the bottom. “CT and MRI scans are clean. No concussion, no internal bleeding, no broken bones. Just a bruised rib and stitches to the forehead. You’ll feel the soreness for a while—maybe a week or two—but that’s about it.”Adam just nodded, quiet.I stood near the wall, hands shoved deep into the pockets of my coat, watching him. He looked okay. Calm. Collected. Like the man I knew him to be. But there was something beneath the calmness—something I’d seen ever since they pulled him from that wreck.A shadow.Not fear
The Billionaire's Sunshine Eighty-Three: More Alive Than Ever
Adam LewistonThe world was dark.Heavy.Soundless.And for a moment..maybe longer. I didn’t know if I was alive or somewhere in the unthinking void between life and nothing.I couldn’t move. Couldn’t see. The weight on my chest wasn’t just the harness, it was something deeper—like gravity had turned to stone.Then there's a voice.Soft. Barely there.“Adam.” It echoed, not in my ears, but in my head. In the marrow of me.“Adam, please.” It was shaking. Breathless. Familiar in the way that breaks you before it builds you.Lu.God, Lu.His voice came again. Louder this time. More real. “Adam, don’t you dare—I swear to God, don’t you—”My breath snapped back into my lungs like a punch. A dry gasp tore out of my throat as a new noise erupted around me—distant shouting, the hiss of steam, the static of a radio. Something beeped. Metal groaned.I blinked.
The Billionaire's Sunshine Eighty-Two: When The King Fell
Lillium RooseveltThe door shut behind us with a soft click, sealing in a cocoon of glass, warmth, and muted tension. James’s footsteps were quiet against the carpet, but mine echoed in my chest—heavy, unsure. The VIP lounge was sleek and quiet, outfitted with tall windows that offered a panoramic view of the drift track below. The whole circuit was bathed in sharp lights and shadowy curves, the smell of fuel barely muted by the thick walls. Beyond the glass, Adam's world roared to life.And he was somewhere down there in it.I walked straight to the window, drawn like a magnet. My hands pressed lightly against the cold pane as my eyes scanned the pits, the idle cars, the winding snake of asphalt wrapped in floodlights. I looked for black. For movement. For him.But I couldn’t see him yet.The pressure in my chest didn’t budge.“He’s fine,” a voice said beside me—calm, firm, lightly amused. “Adam knows what he’s doing.”I turned my head just enough to see Christopher standing there, h
You may also like
SWEET DEBAUCHERY: AN M/M COLLEGE, CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
Benny D dreamer2.9K viewsLotus Flower
Mythphilia5.5K viewsStripper by Night, Doctor by Deception
Callie5.8K viewsMy dear enemy
ANNY2.3K viewsBetrayal Between the vows
Allen drinkvoke 189 viewsHIS SECRET OBSESSION
Selara803 viewsKillian's Game
Elijah_writes674 viewsThe Mafia's Boy Toy
Blue Bird25.2K views
