All Chapters of Plaything in one's palm: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The crumpled birthday card hidden in the drawer was a secret shame Lynn carried with him. It represented a weakness, a crack in his resolve that he couldn't afford. He doubled down on his coldness towards Caius, using the "evidence" from Marcus as a shield against any more confusing gestures. The air in the penthouse was frigid.A few nights later, Caius announced they were attending another event—a high-profile charity auction. This was not like the gala; it was more exclusive, more serious, filled with billionaires and philanthropists bidding obscene amounts of money for prestige and tax breaks. Lynn’s role, as always, was to be a silent, beautiful accessory.He dressed in the suit provided, his face a mask of indifference. He was a ghost walking beside Caius, his mind a million miles away, planning his next move, thinking about the hidden storage card.The auction hall was opulent and hushed. They took their seats near the front. Lynn barely glanced at the catalog. It was all meani

The aftermath of the shattered drawing lay over the penthouse like a pall of smoke. The physical debris had been cleaned up by a silent, efficient staff, but the emotional wreckage remained. The air was thick with a new, more profound silence, broken only by the necessary, clipped exchanges about meals or schedules. It was a cold war fought with glances and the weight of unsaid words.Lynn retreated entirely into himself. The incident had scorched away any remaining ambiguity. Caius was not a complex man to be understood; he was a force of destruction to be survived. The "evidence" from Marcus felt more real than ever. The man who could destroy a priceless artwork in a fit of pique was certainly capable of destroying a man like his father.He spent his days in his studio, but even there, he felt exposed. The act of painting, once his sanctuary, now felt like it was being watched, judged, and potentially used against him. He started painting darker, more abstract pieces, swirls of blac

Anna’s recovery was swift and strong, a testament to the quality of care Caius’s money and influence had provided. A few days after the successful surgery, the hospital approved a video call. James set up a secure connection in Caius’s study, the large monitor glowing in the dim, book-lined room. Caius was present, sitting in his high-backed leather chair, not intruding, but a palpable, unavoidable presence.Lynn’s heart hammered with a mixture of anticipation and dread. He missed his sister terribly, but the thought of speaking to her under Caius’s watchful eye, of having to perform normality, was exhausting.The screen flickered to life. Anna’s face appeared, still pale but lit with a vibrant energy that had been absent for months. Her eyes sparkled. “Lynn!” she exclaimed, her voice stronger than he’d heard it in years.A genuine smile broke through Lynn’s tension. “Anna! You look… amazing.” And she did. The fear and pain that had haunted her features were gone, replaced by hope.“I

The day of silence had been a strange, unsettling interlude. The memory of it lingered, a quiet hum of confusion beneath the ever-present thrum of resentment. Lynn tried to push it aside, to refocus on the "evidence" and the cold, clear path of revenge it promised. But the image of Caius, silently watching him paint his anguish without interference, was a stubborn splinter in his mind.The following week, his scheduled outing took him to a small, contemporary gallery showcasing experimental sculptures. The two guards were a constant, looming presence, but Lynn had grown accustomed to their shadow. He moved through the exhibits, his mind only half on the art, the other half churning with plans and doubts.He was standing before a twisted metal sculpture that vaguely resembled a caged bird when a familiar, smooth voice spoke beside him."Lynn. Fancy seeing you here again. The avant-garde scene suits you." Marcus Evans stood there, holding a glass of sparkling water, looking effortlessly

The tension in the penthouse, a constant hum beneath the surface of Lynn's new "productive" facade, was abruptly severed by a business crisis. A major acquisition in Europe was on the verge of collapsing, requiring Caius's immediate and personal attention. James delivered the news briskly: Mr. Evans would be leaving for Zurich that evening and was expected to be away for several days.Lynn received the news with a carefully neutral expression. "I see," he said, his voice even. Inside, a wild, frantic hope surged so violently he felt lightheaded. Days. He would have days without Caius's direct, oppressive presence. The ever-watchful eye would be thousands of miles away. It was the opportunity he had been desperately waiting for.He maintained his composure as Caius prepared to leave. There were no sentimental goodbyes. Caius stood in the foyer, briefcase in hand, his gaze sweeping over Lynn with its usual assessing intensity."James will handle everything," Caius stated, his tone busin