All Chapters of unmasked desire : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The Vale mansion was quieter than usual, the aftermath of the morning’s scandal leaving a strange tension in every room. Phones had stopped ringing, assistants had retreated, and even Catherine and Richard seemed subdued, moving through the house like ghosts, their worries barely contained.Elias lingered near the kitchen, idly stirring the last dregs of his coffee. He hadn’t planned to run into Alexander, but the house felt small, and somehow, inevitably, he found himself outside the study, just as the door cracked open.Alexander appeared, unshaven, jacket slung over one shoulder, eyes sharp but hollow. He looked… tired. More tired than Elias had ever seen him, and for some reason, that caught Elias off guard.“Morning,” Alexander said without inflection. His voice was controlled, precise, but the fatigue at the edges was almost tangible.“Morning,” Elias replied softly, unsure if he should retreat or speak. The air felt charged, like a storm about to break.Alexander stepped fully

The private suite was quiet when Elias arrived, the soft hum of the HVAC and distant muffled music from the main floor the only sounds accompanying him. He set down his coat, feeling the familiar weight of anticipation pressing against his chest. Tonight felt different. Tonight, he wasn’t just here to follow instructions. Tonight, he wanted to know really know, the presence he’d come to crave.Alexander stood in the center of the room, barely visible in the soft amber glow. No mask this time, but his expression remained unreadable, carefully neutral. Elias’s chest tightened anyway; he could feel the electricity in the air, as if the room itself acknowledged the tension between them.“You’re ready,” Alexander said, voice low and deliberate, almost a whisper. “Blindfold first.”Elias obeyed, letting the soft cloth cover his eyes. The world fell away instantly. Sounds sharpened, scents deepened, and every small movement became amplified. He shivered not from cold, but from the awareness

Elias sat at the edge of his bed, laptop balanced precariously on his knees, a half-empty mug of cold coffee at his side. The apartment was quiet, the kind of silence that pressed against the walls and filled every corner. It should have felt peaceful, but peace was impossible when his thoughts were consumed by the same question that had haunted him since his first visit: who owned the club?He had started with what little information he’d been able to glean, the name on the black card, the neighborhood, references buried in forum posts. But as he dug deeper, the trail grew increasingly convoluted, tangled in layers of LLCs, shell companies, and nominee addresses. Every time he thought he was close, the trail led only to another dead end, another carefully obscured layer meant to hide ownership.Frustration bubbled in his chest, sharp and insistent. He leaned back, pressing a hand against his forehead, feeling the pulse of irritation there. Why was it so impossible? The club had to be

The apartment was quiet except for the soft hum of the city below. Alexander sat at his desk, fingers steepled, staring at the array of notes he had prepared. Each line of ink represented a step, a word, a gesture carefully calculated to give Elias closure without shattering the fragile balance between them.He rubbed his temples, feeling the ache that had settled there over the past week. Sleep was a distant memory. Every time his eyes closed, he saw Elias’s face the way his shoulders tensed under the guide’s hands, the quick inhale that betrayed both fear and desire. Every flash of that memory gnawed at him, demanding attention, refusing to be dismissed.He had made a decision. Or at least, he told himself it was a decision.One final session. That was all it could be. A controlled, deliberate experience designed to give Elias understanding, affirmation, and closure. Alexander had drafted the plan meticulously: each exercise, each question, each moment of touch scripted to provide c

The room felt impossibly small, even with its luxurious furnishings and soft lighting. Every sound, the faint hum of the ventilation, the distant echo of footsteps in the hallway, the slow, measured breathing between them was amplified, filling the space with a tension that made Alexander’s chest ache.Elias sat cross-legged on the cushions, blindfolded, hands resting loosely on his knees, and yet every muscle in his body was taut with anticipation. He had said the words once, but Alexander needed to hear them again. Needed the confession to sink in, to anchor him to reality because otherwise, the intensity of his own emotions might swallow him whole.“Say it again,” Alexander whispered, his voice distorted through the modulator. Not commanding, not guiding but raw, exposed in a way he had never allowed himself to be.Elias swallowed. His throat was tight, his pulse racing. “I—I think I’m in love with you,” he said carefully, almost reverently, his voice trembling. “I don’t know your