Behind the massive walnut desk, he reviewed contracts, signed documents with decisive strokes of his pen, and conducted two brief calls.
The tapping of his fingers on the keyboard was the only sound that occasionally broke the heavy silence in the office.
Sylvain remained on the plush leather couch, phone in hand. He scrolled aimlessly through old messages, photos from a life that now felt like someone else's.
The screen blurred more than once as his thoughts drifted back to the elevator, to Silas's arms around him, to the humiliating way his body had sought comfort from the very source of his torment. He kept his head down, pretending to be absorbed in the device, but every so often his eyes flicked toward Silas, drawn despite himself to the effortless power radiating from the man across the room.
A soft knock interrupted the stillness. Lena entered, tablet in one hand and a slim folder in the other. "Mr. Vane, the overseas company representatives are already waiting for you in the restaurant I booked. Everything is prepared—the private room and the full presentation materials."
Silas didn't look up immediately. He finished typing a sentence, saved the file, and only then closed his laptop with a decisive click. "Very well." He stood, rolling his sleeves back down and shrugging into his suit jacket with fluid grace. The fabric settled perfectly over his broad shoulders. "Sylvain. Follow me."
Sylvain rose quickly, slipping his phone into his pocket. He fell into step behind Silas as they left the office. Lena followed closely, holding a thick stack of documents against her chest like a shield. The three of them moved through the executive suite in silence. Employees glanced up briefly, then quickly looked away, pretending not to notice the unusual addition to their CEO's entourage.
They reached the bank of elevators. Lena pressed the call button. When the doors opened, the car was empty—no one dared occupy it when Silas was on the move. The three stepped inside. Sylvain stood slightly behind Silas, close enough to catch the faint scent of his cologne again.
The mirrored walls reflected their images at him: Silas tall and composed, Lena professional and unobtrusive, and himself looking out of place in his casual hoodie and jeans, like an intruder in their world.
The descent felt mercifully short after the morning's panic. No walls closed in this time. Still, Sylvain's pulse remained elevated, a constant reminder of how fragile his composure had become.
The elevator doors opened onto the ground floor. They walked across the marble lobby toward the entrance, footsteps echoing in unison. Lena moved ahead slightly and held one of the tall glass doors open for Silas. He stepped through without acknowledgment.
Sylvain followed, eyes scanning the street where the same sleek black sedan waited, engine purring softly at the curb. The driver stood ready, door already open on Silas's side.
Silas slid into the back seat with effortless elegance. Sylvain circled to the other side and climbed in beside him. Lena took the front passenger seat, arranging the documents neatly on her lap. The doors closed with a solid thunk, and the car pulled smoothly away from the building, merging into the flow of midday traffic.
For several long minutes, silence filled the cabin. Sylvain stared at Silas, unable to look away. Questions burned on his tongue but he was too scared to ask Silas.
Silas kept his eyes closed, head resting against the seat. Without opening them, he spoke, voice low and laced with amusement. "Is my face too attractive for you to look away?"
Sylvain's cheeks flushed hot. He bent his head immediately, staring down at his own hands clasped tightly in his lap. The embarrassment stung, mixing with the ever-present undercurrent of resentment.
Silas's lips curved into a faint smirk, though his eyes remained shut. "I know you want to ask me about the reward I promised you. You will get it soon."
The words sent a confusing ripple through Sylvain—hope tangled with dread. He didn't dare speak.
Silas continued, tone casual as if discussing the weather. "Lena, we'll make a stop at the leverage house first."
Lena turned slightly in her seat. "Understood, sir." She leaned forward and gave the driver an address. The driver nodded once and adjusted their route without comment.
Sylvain's stomach dropped. Leverage house. Was this some new cruelty? A demonstration of power? A threat disguised as a detour? His hands trembled slightly in his lap. He felt cold suddenly despite the warm air circulating through the car. Fear coiled tight in his chest, making it hard to breathe evenly. What if Silas had changed his mind? What if this was the moment everything unraveled?
Silas must have sensed the shift in the air. Without opening his eyes, he spoke again, voice calm and almost gentle. "Calm down. I'm taking you to your gift."
The reassurance did little to ease the knot in Sylvain's gut. He remained tense, staring out the window as buildings and streets blurred past. Thirty minutes felt like an eternity. The car navigated through busier roads before turning into a residential area lined with modest homes and neatly trimmed lawns.
Finally, it slowed and came to a stop in front of a small, normal-looking family house—white walls, a simple front garden, curtains drawn against the afternoon sun. Nothing about it screamed luxury. It was painfully ordinary.
Sylvain's heart stuttered.
Silas opened his eyes at last and turned to him. "Go inside and meet your brother."
The words hit like a sudden release of pressure. Sylvain sat stunned, eyes widening as the meaning sank in. His brother—alive, close enough to touch, no longer just a distant worry hanging over every humiliating act. Tears welled up instantly, blurring his vision. A choked sound escaped his throat, half sob, half disbelieving laugh.
"Thank you," he whispered, voice cracking with raw emotion. "Thank you, Silas. I… I don't know what to say. This means everything—"
Silas cut him off with a low, warning tone, though the corner of his mouth twitched with dark amusement. "If you don't get out of the car right now, I'll have you right here in the back seat before you can finish that sentence."
The threat, delivered so casually, sent heat rushing to Sylvain's face. He fumbled for the door handle, nearly stumbling as he stepped onto the pavement.
His legs felt unsteady, but the excitement thrumming through him overpowered everything else.
Silas leaned slightly toward the open door, voice carrying clearly. "I'll come pick you up myself after I finish my meeting. Don't make me wait."
The car door closed. The engine revved softly, and the sleek black sedan sped off down the quiet street, leaving Sylvain standing alone on the sidewalk, watching until it disappeared around the corner.
He stood there for a long moment, wiping at his wet eyes with the back of his hand. The silver of unshed tears still clung to his lashes, but a genuine, trembling smile broke across his face—the first real one in what felt like forever.
His brother was inside that ordinary house.
Excitement surged through him, pushing aside the lingering fear and humiliation of the morning. He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as he walked up the short path to the front door. His hand trembled only slightly as he reached for the knob.
This was the gift. A brief return to something human amid the carefully constructed cage Silas had built around him.
Sylvain pushed the door open and stepped inside, heart pounding with anticipation, ready to see his brother at last.