Alma tossed the blanket aside like nothing happened and looked straight at Clyde.
He hadn't taken his eyes off me.
Not once.
"Mr. Silius," she said, overly polite, almost mocking, "what exactly are you doing in our room in the middle of the night instead of entertaining your fiancée?"
"Hwon," Clyde turned his head toward her. Slow. Cold. "Old habits die hard, don't they?"
"Hey—don't talk about her like that," I snapped, pushing myself up—
—and dropped right back onto the bed.
"Talk about her?" His gaze shifted to me. Sharp. Flat. "I'm not talking. I'm stating facts. And here I thought you were too drunk to even sit through dinner."
"That part's true," I muttered. "Sitting is… hard. Lying down too. Everything's spinning."
"You're kidding," he said.
"No," I said, dragging my underwear back on under the edge of the blanket. "I'm serious."
I tried to stand.
Failed.
The room tilted sideways—
Alma grabbed my shoulders before I went down again.
"Is this urgent?" she asked him coolly. "We're a little busy."
His eyes darkened.
The air in the room dropped a few degrees.
"I brought Alan into the city under my responsibility," Clyde said. "I came to make sure he's not lying here with alcohol poisoning."
"He's not. You've seen that. You can leave."
"Hwon."
"Yes, Mr. Silius?" she tilted her head. "Did you want to add something?—Alan, what are you doing?"
"It's cold," I muttered.
I was standing there in nothing but my underwear.
"Then get under the blanket. I'll warm you up," she said—
—but she was looking at him.
Not me.
For some reason, that registered.
I thought she liked him.
Honestly, she'd probably be happier if he were in my place.
But he had a fiancée.
I thought that was Christina.
…Why the hell did that bother me?
"Hwon," Clyde said, quieter now, colder, "I'm warning you. Stop. Now."
"And what if I don't?" she smirked. "You're all the same. Every single one of you." Her voice sharpened. "But I'm not letting you turn him into your toy. You think I didn't notice the way you look at him? No. I'm not letting you mess him up."
"I'm not playing with him," Clyde said. "But what are you doing? Leaning on his pity?" A pause. "You know exactly where he's weak. And you're using it."
"I helped him figure things out," she shot back. "It's better this way. He needs a girl. Someone who'll have his back when people stop hating him—or stop caring whose son he is."
"And you think that someone is you?"
"And you?" she snapped. "You planning to protect him?"
Silence.
Then—
Clyde pulled out a key card and tossed it to her.
She caught it without even looking.
"I booked you another room. Paid through Sunday evening."
"A bribe?" she raised an eyebrow.
"A gesture of goodwill. Take it before I change my mind."
I had no idea what they were talking about.
I was too busy trying to get into my jeans.
And failing.
My leg got stuck.
I lost balance.
Swore under my breath.
"Fuck it."
I yanked them off and threw them aside, crawled back under the blanket.
I needed sleep.
That was it.
Nothing else mattered.
I closed my eyes—
and dropped out almost instantly.
I didn't hear them leave.
But when I surfaced for a second later—
I was alone.
"Get up, Holivan."
Cold.
Sharp.
The blanket was ripped off me.
I groaned and dragged the pillow over my head—
He took that too.
"It's noon," Clyde said. "I have things to do. Get up. We're going back."
"Then go," I muttered. "I've got a day off. I'm sleeping."
"I said—get up."
He yanked my leg.
Hard.
I hit the floor.
"Hey! What the hell— that hurts!" I snapped, grabbing my back.
"Shower. Get dressed. Ten minutes."
He dropped into the chair like nothing happened.
Arms crossed.
Watching.
"You're in a shitty mood," I muttered, drying my hair, throwing the towel aside. "What, fight with your fiancée?"
"Erika has nothing to do with it," he said flatly. "Enjoy your night?"
"Your fiancée kept pouring wine into me," I shot back. "I barely remember anything."
"Call her Erika or Moneki," he said. "You don't remember anything?"
I paused.
Fragments hit.
Fast.
Sharp.
My face burned.
Neck. Chest. Everywhere.
Clyde smirked.
"Remember now?"
"I—fuck. You came in too, didn't you?" I muttered.
That moment—
His eyes—
And then—
Yeah.
My face burned even hotter.
"Yes," he said. "Right in the middle of your little scene with Hwon." A pause. "You do know she used to be a professional?"
"Alma is my friend," I said. "I don't give a damn what she did before."
"A friend?" he repeated, standing up.
By the time I pulled my shirt on—
he was already right in front of me.
Too close.
"Yes. A friend."
"So you do that with all your friends?" he said quietly. "Get into bed with them? Let them take your dick into their mouth?"
"Hey—cut it out!" I snapped, looking away. "Whatever happened—I don't even remember how it got that far."
"I'll tell you how," he said. "You felt sorry for her. And decided to prove her past didn't matter."
"How do you—? You didn't use telepathy, did you?" I tensed.
"I don't need telepathy to see something that obvious," he said. "That weakness of yours? People will use it. Every time."
"But Alma wouldn't hurt me!"
"Did you enjoy it?" His eyes flashed.
"That's none of your business," I snapped—
He grabbed my face.
Hard.
Fingers digging into my jaw.
"Let go—it hurts," I hissed.
"I asked you a question."
The air dropped again.
Cold.
Heavy.
"I wasn't disgusted," I said through my teeth. "And yeah. I enjoyed it."
"That's not what I asked."
"Yes! I liked it, alright?!" I snapped, trying to pull free.
"Liar," Clyde said softly.
There was something sharp in his voice now.
Something wrong.
"You didn't want her," he went on. "Otherwise you wouldn't have looked away when you came."
"Sorry I'm not as experienced as you!" I shot back. "Let go!"
He yanked me forward—
And kissed me.
Hard.
Rough.
Too much.
Like he was trying to prove something.
Or break something.
"Get off me!" I shoved him back, wiping blood from my lip. "You're insane, Clyde!"
I turned—
and walked out.
Fast.
Didn't look back.
Behind me—
his voice.
Quiet.
Almost tired.
And then a short, bitter laugh.
"Yeah… I think I might be."