Alexander froze beside the hospital bed, his hand still extended towards Adrian. He didn't need to look at Sebastian to feel the triumphant, icy satisfaction radiating off him.
Adrian's request—"Sebastian, can you take me with you, please?"—was a direct, public rejection, a professional and deeply personal slap.
Alexander's fists tightened, his carefully constructed composure cracking. He had risked his professional reputation, nearly lost control in a fit of rage and lust, and then abandoned Adrian on a dangerous street, all in a misguided attempt to give Adrian the "freedom" he thought he needed. This was the result: Adrian choosing the one person Alexander couldn't stand.
"Adrian," Alexander started, his voice a low, warning growl.
Adrian finally opened his eyes, and the sheer hostility in his gaze was a physical blow. The moisture in his eyes wasn't tears of pain, but tears of pure, controlled rage.
