Kelvin’s lips were still tingling, still burning with the ghost of Alexander’s mouth against his.
His heart was hammering so violently against his ribs that he was certain Alexander could hear it.
But he forced himself to meet Alexander’s gaze, to hold those dark, piercing eyes without flinching.
“I’m yours Alexander, all yours,” Kelvin said, the words sliding off his tongue like venom disguised as honey.
Something shifted in Alexander’s eyes.
For a moment, the cold, calculating businessman vanished.
The mask of composure cracked, and beneath it, Kelvin caught a glimpse of something raw, something hungry, something almost ‘feral’.
Alexander’s breath hitched, his pupils dilated, and before Kelvin could brace himself, Alexander’s hands were on him again.
This kiss was different.
It was fierce.
Savage.
Alexander’s lips crashed against Kelvin’s with a desperation that bordered on painful, his hands tangling in Kelvin’s wig, pulling him closer, deeper, as if he wanted to consume Kelvin entirely.
His tongue swept across Kelvin’s lower lip, demanding entry, and Kelvin’s mouth opened on instinct, a breathless gasp escaping him.
And then— ‘Softness.’ Kelvin’s brain short-circuited.
Because Alexander’s lips were ‘soft’.
Softer than they had any right to be on a man so hard, so cold, so untouchable.
The scent of him— cedar and something clean like rain—wrapped around Kelvin like a warm embrace.
His breath mingled with Kelvin’s, warm and minty, and for a dizzying moment, Kelvin’s knees actually buckled.
He felt Alexander’s arm tighten around his waist, holding him upright, keeping him anchored.
‘This is nice.’ The thought floated through Kelvin’s mind like a leaf on a gentle stream.
‘This feels…
nice.’ And then the second thought came crashing down like a bulldozer.
‘I’m kissing a man.’ ‘I’m kissing a man and I’m enjoying it.’ ‘I’m a man, and I’m kissing another man, and I LIKE it.’ Kelvin’s entire body went cold.
It was like someone had flipped a switch inside him.
One moment, he was warm, pliant, melting into Alexander’s embrace.
The next, he was frozen, rigid, every muscle in his body locked tight.
The fire that had been building in his chest turned to ice, spreading through his veins like poison.
Alexander felt it immediately.
He pulled back, his brow furrowing, his dark eyes searching Kelvin’s face with growing concern.
“Kelly?
What’s wrong?” Kelvin couldn’t answer.
His throat was closed, his tongue was lead, his entire body was screaming at him to run, to flee, to scrub his lips until they were raw and bleeding.
“You’re pale,” Alexander said, his voice sharp with worry.
He reached out and pressed the back of his hand against Kelvin’s forehead.
“You’re burning up.
Your fever has gotten worse.” Before Kelvin could respond, his stomach lurched violently.
He doubled over, his hands flying to his mouth as dry heaves wracked his body.
Nothing came out—there was nothing in his stomach to expel—but his body convulsed with the effort, his throat burning, his eyes watering.
‘Disgust.’ ‘Pure, unadulterated disgust.’ ‘I kissed a man.’ ‘I kissed a man and I liked it.’ ‘I am sick.
I am wrong.
I am—’ “Kelly!” Alexander’s voice cut through the spiral of self-loathing.
Strong arms wrapped around Kelvin, lifting him off his feet as if he weighed nothing.
“I’m taking you to your room.” “Put me down!” Kelvin protested, his voice weak and shaky.
He struggled against Alexander’s grip, but his fever-ravaged body had no strength left.
“I can walk, I can—” “You can barely stand,” Alexander said, his voice brooking no argument.
He carried Kelvin through the foyer, past the grand staircase, down the long hallway that led to Kelvin’s room.
And the maids watched.
They stood in doorways, in corners, their eyes wide, their whispers sharp as knives.
Kelvin saw them through the haze of his fever, their faces blurring into a sea of curiosity and gossip.
“Did you see?
Mr.
Alexander is carrying her again!” “He’s never done that for anyone before.
Not even his ex-fiancée.” “She must really be something special.
She’s only been here four days, and she’s already got him wrapped around her finger.” “I heard he called Dr.
Gavin earlier because she was sick.
He never worried about anyone like that before.
Each whispered word was a needle piercing Kelvin’s skin.
His male pride—the fragile, battered thing that had been clinging to life—withered with every maid’s gaze that landed on him.
He was being carried like a damsel in distress, like a weak, helpless woman who needed a strong man to save her.
And the worst part?
He had ‘let’ himself be carried.
He had kissed Alexander back.
He had told Alexander he belonged to him.
‘What have I become?’ The question echoed through his mind as Alexander pushed open the door to his room and laid him down on the bed with surprising gentleness.
The mattress dipped under Kelvin’s weight, the soft sheets cool against his feverish skin.
“There,” Alexander murmured, brushing a strand of the wig from Kelvin’s face.
“Rest.
I’ll call Dr.
Gavin again.” “Alexander, I’m fine—” Kelvin started, but Alexander silenced him with a look.
“You’re not fine.
You’re burning up, you can barely stand, and you just dry-heaved in my foyer.
That’s the opposite of fine.” Kelvin opened his mouth to argue, but the words died in his throat.
Because Alexander was right.
He wasn’t fine.
He was a mess—physically, emotionally, psychologically.
The fever was eating him alive, and the disgust he felt at himself was making it worse.
‘This is psychological,’ he realized, his mind swimming through the haze.
‘I’m making myself sick because I can’t accept what I did.’ He closed his eyes, willing the room to stop spinning.
****** Thirty minutes later, Dr.
Gavin arrived.
The man was in his fifties, with silver-streaked hair and brown eyes that held a warmth that immediately put Kelvin at ease.
He carried a medical bag and an expression of professional concern as he approached the bed.
“Miss Austin,” he said, his voice gentle.
“I heard you had quite a rough day yesterday.” Kelvin nodded weakly.
His throat was dry, his head pounding, his body aching in places he didn’t know could ache.
Dr.
Gavin checked his vitals—pulse, temperature, blood pressure.
He examined the bruises on Kelvin’s face, his hands, his legs, clicking his tongue with disapproval.
“These are serious injuries,” Dr.
Gavin said, glancing at Alexander.
“Who did this to her?” Alexander’s jaw tightened.
“I’m handling it.” Dr.
Gavin nodded, not pressing further.
He turned back to Kelvin.
“Miss Austin, I need to check for any internal injuries.
I’ll need you to lift your shirt so I can examine your ribs and abdomen.” Kelvin’s blood ran cold.
“No.” The word came out sharper than he intended to sound.
“No, I—I don’t want—I’m fine.
Really.
Just prescribe me something for the fever and the pain.
I’ll be fine.” Dr.
Gavin’s brow furrowed.
“Miss Austin, with injuries like these, there could be internal bruising or even fractures.
It’s important that I—” “I said no.” Kelvin’s voice cracked, desperation bleeding through his composure.
“Please.
Just—just give me medicine.
I’ll be fine.” Alexander stepped forward, his expression dark.
“Kelly, let the doctor—” “Alexander, please.” Kelvin turned to him, his eyes wide, pleading.
“I don’t want him to touch me.
I don’t want anyone to touch me.
Just—please.” The words hung in the air, heavy and raw.
Alexander studied him for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes.
Then he nodded slowly.
“Do as she asks,” he said to Dr.
Gavin.
“But give her everything she needs to recover quickly.” Dr.
Gavin sighed but complied.
He prepared an IV drip, inserting the needle into Kelvin’s arm with practiced ease.
He left a bottle of painkillers, a tube of ointment for the bruises, and a prescription for antibiotics.
“She’ll be fine,” Dr.
Gavin said as he packed his bag.
“The injuries are superficial.
The fever is likely a combination of stress and infection.
Give her rest, keep her hydrated, and she should recover within a few days.” “Thank you, Doctor,” Alexander said, shaking his hand.
“I’ll have my assistant send you double your usual fee for the inconvenience.” “That’s not necessary—” “It’s done.
Thank you for coming on such short notice.” Dr.
Gavin nodded and left, his footsteps echoing down the hallway until they faded into silence.
And then Kelvin and Alexander were alone.
Kelvin lay in the bed, the IV line taped to his arm, his body heavy and aching.
Alexander sat in the chair beside the bed, his dark eyes fixed on Kelvin with an intensity that made Kelvin’s skin crawl.
“I’m fine,” Kelvin said, his voice small.
“You don’t have to stay.
I know you’re busy.” Alexander didn’t move.
He simply leaned back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other, his gaze never leaving Kelvin’s face.
“I’m not going anywhere.” “Alexander—” “I said I’m staying.” Kelvin’s heart sank.
Every second Alexander remained in that room was a second Kelvin couldn’t breathe, couldn’t relax, couldn’t let his guard down.
What if Alexander decided to check on his wounds himself?
What if he pulled up his dress and saw the bindings around Kelvin’s chest?
What if he finally put together the puzzle pieces that would reveal Kelvin’s secret?
‘I can’t fall asleep with him here.
I can’t.’ But his eyes were heavy, his body screaming for rest.
The fever was pulling him under, dragging him into a dark, warm oblivion that promised relief from the constant ache in his bones.
He fought it.
He fought it with everything he had.
Alexander reached out and brushed his fingers across Kelvin’s cheek, the touch featherlight, almost tender.
“You need to sleep,” he murmured.
“Your body needs to heal.” “I know,” Kelvin mumbled, his words slurring with exhaustion.
“But I can’t—I don’t—” “You’re safe here, Kelly.” Alexander’s voice was soft, hypnotic.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you.
Not does guys who hurt you.
Not anyone else.
You’re mine now, and I protect what’s mine.” The words should have been reassuring.
They should have made Kelvin feel safe, protected, cared for.
Instead, they made his stomach churn with a new kind of fear.
‘You’re mine now.’ The possessiveness in Alexander’s voice was unmistakable.
And terrifying.
Kelvin closed his eyes, feigning sleep, hoping Alexander would leave.
He felt Alexander’s hand on his again, fingers intertwining with his, thumb tracing lazy circles on his skin.
The touch was gentle, almost loving.
It made Kelvin want to scream.
Minutes passed.
An hour.
Kelvin didn’t know.
He lay there, rigid, alert, listening to the soft rhythm of Alexander’s breathing, waiting for him to leave.
Finally, Alexander’s phone rang.
He pulled it out of his pocket, glanced at the screen, and frowned.
He stood up, still holding Kelvin’s hand for a moment before letting it go.
“I have to take this,” he said, his voice low.
“Rest.
I’ll check on you later.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Kelvin’s lips—brief, gentle, possessive.
Then he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
The moment the door clicked shut, Kelvin’s eyes flew open.
He let out a shuddering breath, his entire body trembling with relief.
He was alone.
Finally, ‘finally’ alone.
He lay there for a few more minutes, making sure Alexander wasn’t coming back, before slowly sitting up.
The IV line tugged at his arm, and he carefully adjusted it, making sure not to dislodge the needle.
His phone was on the nightstand.
He grabbed it, his fingers trembling, and unlocked the screen.
A notification lit up—a message from an unknown number.
The same unknown number that had been texting him since the beginning, warning him about Alexander, warning him about the dangers of this contract.
He opened the message.
[“What did you do?”] Kelvin’s blood ran cold.
He scrolled down.
[“I saw everything.
You threw yourself at him.
You kissed him.
You let him kiss you.
You told him you belonged to him.
What happened to being straight, Kelvin?
What happened to this being just a job?”] Kelvin’s hands shook as he typed a response.
[“Where are you watching me from?
What exactly do you want from me?
And yes, it is just a job.”] The reply came almost immediately.
[“If it’s just a job, then why did you kiss him like you meant it?
Why did you let him carry you to your room like some lovesick bride?
Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?
Alexander Morrowgate is not a man you play games with.
He’s straight, Kelvin.
STRAIGHT.
And more than that, he’s a hidden homophobe.
If he finds out who you really are—and he WILL find out, it’s only a matter of time—he will destroy you.
He will KILL you for deceiving him.”] To be continued…