Billionaire Lawyer's Secretary - Chapter 128: Chapter 128
You are reading Billionaire Lawyer's Secretary, Chapter 128: Chapter 128. Read more chapters of Billionaire Lawyer's Secretary.
"You came here in the middle of the night, soaked to the bone, just to ask me that?" Elara's voice was thick with disbelief.
"Elara, tell me," Adrian pressed, his brow furrowed. "Why are you feeling so much pressure? Is it coming from me?"
A fierce wind howled through the hallway outside, rattling the door. A sudden, torrential downpour had hit Veritasiton that evening, plunging the temperature to just above freezing.
Knowing that Adrian was just recovering from a high fever and was still weak, Elara quickly pulled him inside, shut the door firmly against the storm, and switched on the heater.
Seemingly oblivious to the cold, Adrian tugged at Elara's arm. The icy touch of his palm instantly seeped into her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. "Tell me," he demanded.
Elara lifted her hand and gently cupped his cheek. The warmth and softness of her palm were the only heat he could feel against his chilled skin.
Elara's frown deepened, her voice thick with exasperation. "Honestly, how old are you? Acting like a child? You're freezing. Are you trying to catch your death?"
Ignoring his question, her face stern, she steered Adrian to the stool by the kitchen island, seated him, and began to towel-dry his rain-soaked hair.
Elara had just taken a hot shower and still radiated warmth, the light scent of her soap or shower gel lingering in the air.
Only then did the cold truly seep into Adrian's bones. He reached out instinctively to pull her close, but stopped himself, remembering his own soaked state against her clean warmth. His half-extended hand fell limply back to his side.
Seeing Adrian still shivering, Elara grew more alarmed. "This isn't working," she declared. "You need a hot shower. Now."
She pulled him up from the stool and steered him firmly toward the bathroom. "Sitting around soaked won't help; you'll never warm up. Go get under the hot water. Clean towels are in the cabinet."
Adrian complied, or at least gave the appearance of complying. But he was in no hurry. Right there in front of Elara, he peeled off his soaked white T-shirt and then simply lingered by the bathroom door, making no move to enter.
What had only been hinted at by the damp fabric clinging to his skin was now fully revealed: solid muscle, every defined line and contour evident before her.
Elara's hand, poised to close the bathroom door, froze. Her eyes flickered in a barely perceptible sweep, taking him in: his flawless skin, his lean waist disappearing into the elastic band of his gray sweatpants.
Her gaze lingered on that waistband. 'Damn. Gray sweatpants. That is... dangerously appealing.' The sight instantly conjured images of college athletes fresh off the basketball court, peeling off their jerseys, glistening with sweat, headed for the locker room showers.
Adrian had headed straight to the coffee shop after waking up, bypassing his usual tailored suit. The plain white tee, gray sweatpants, and sneakers were simple and clean, accentuating his already striking features.
Lean with minimal body fat and clearly defined muscles, he projected a tall, effortlessly sharp silhouette.
Elara found herself unexpectedly drawn to his look today. There was a rare, almost boyish quality to him she seldom saw—a clear family resemblance to Adrian's cousin, Justin.
Bare from the waist up, he showcased broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist. Below, encased in the gray sweatpants, he seemed transformed: pure masculine intensity above, youthful, almost cocky energy radiating below.
Lust is nothing but an illusion, Elara. Get a grip!' she mentally chided herself. With a resounding BANG, she slammed the bathroom door shut, the force fueled by a surge of frustrated determination. 'Time to banish those treacherous thoughts.'
Elara retreated to the kitchen, gulping down a glass of water to compose herself. Only then did she remember the glaring problem: she had no spare clothes for Adrian. She headed to the bedroom to search for options.
She recalled buying a set of clothes intended for Alex while overseas, but he'd left abruptly before she could give them to him. After a thorough rummage through her closet, she finally unearthed them.
Alex stood around 6'1", Adrian a solid 6'2". Close enough in build, she figured; they'd have to suffice.
Adrian emerged from the shower with nothing but a distinctly feminine bath towel haphazardly knotted around his hips. Already too small, it sat perilously loose, threatening to desert its post with every movement.
Elara, preparing hot chocolate at the island, tracked Adrian's progress with wary eyes, the precarious towel commanding her uneasy attention. "There are clothes on the couch. Put them on," she instructed, nudging her chin toward the sofa.
Adrian muttered a noncommittal "Mmhmm" but made no move toward the clothes. Instead, he ambled over to the island, observing Elara. "That for me?" he inquired.
"We'll both have some. It helps ward off the chill," she replied.
The apartment was now comfortably warm from the heater, so Adrian, still clad only in the towel, felt no chill. He settled slowly into the chair opposite hers and simply watched her.
Elara added more chocolate, then started the brewing cycle. Looking up, she saw Adrian still hadn't bothered with the clothes.
"Why aren't you dressed?" she asked.
"Whose clothes are these?" Adrian asked. He wasn't one to wear just anyone's cast-offs.
Elara wiped down the countertop, her tone flat. "They're new."
"Who'd you buy them for?" he persisted, a flicker of jealousy unmistakable in his voice.
Elara recognized the brewing irrational jealousy. "For my future boyfriend," she stated plainly. It was, after all, the exact answer she'd given the sales clerk.
"Huh," Adrian murmured, a different interpretation crystallizing in his mind.
Elara didn't push the issue. If he preferred the towel, so be it.
She retrieved Adrian's discarded clothes from the bathroom and loaded them into the washer, setting it to wash and dry. Returning from the laundry room, she found Adrian finally dressed. The pants were slightly short, ending above his ankles, but otherwise, the outfit worked.
"Your future boyfriend must have impressive legs," Adrian remarked, a smirk playing on his lips. "Longer than your ex's."
Elara just stared at him, momentarily speechless.
The kettle emitted two short beeps, signaling the hot chocolate was ready. Elara took two mugs—one black, one white—and filled them. She passed the black one to Adrian.
Adrian, apparently engrossed in replying to an important message, didn't notice Elara's approach, his attention riveted on his phone screen. This focus was typical when work demanded his attention, a state Elara was well accustomed to. Seeing no urgency, she simply stood there, observing him.
He lounged back on the sofa, his tall frame settled comfortably into the simple casual wear. The relaxed fit suited him, emphasizing an effortless attractiveness.
That innate air of privilege clung to him. Even drenched from his recent dash through the rain, he'd retained an aura of untouchable elegance mingled with potent allure. Where others might look merely bedraggled, the rain had etched a compelling, almost fragile vulnerability onto Adrian.
The faint redness rimming his eyes—attributable to exhaustion, not tears—only heightened that devastatingly attractive effect. 'God, Elara, you're hopeless,' she chastised herself inwardly.
"Drink it before it cools off," she prompted.
Adrian looked up, accepted the cup, and took a sip. His brow instantly furrowed.
"Not to your taste?" Elara asked, settling onto the opposite end of the sofa. She tucked her legs up, leaned against the armrest, draped a blanket over her lap, and took a sip from her mug. 'Tastes fine to me,' she thought.
"Too hot," Adrian stated flatly.
Elara fought back a fresh wave of exasperation. "It's hot chocolate, genius. What did you expect?"
"Alright. It's... fine," he conceded, a slight grimace touching his lips. "I'll manage. I'll drink it."
'Finally showing some sense,' Elara thought wryly.
"Ready to answer my question now?" Adrian pressed, his gaze unwavering. Noting the deliberate space she'd put between them, he shifted closer on the sofa. Not touching, but closing the distance enough that she was well within his reach.
Elara took another deliberate sip of her tea, stalling. "What question?" she deflected, feigning ignorance.
"You know very well," Adrian said, his voice dropping low. "What did you mean, the engagement is back on?"
Elara remained silent, despite the palpable tension radiating from Adrian's intense focus.
"Is this about what happened with Victor and Ruby?" Adrian probed.
Elara remained mute.
"If Ruby's situation is the cause, set your mind at ease. Our path wouldn't mirror theirs," Adrian stated. "Once I end this engagement, I'm done with the Hartley family. And my mom is gone, so you'd never face in-law pressures.
"You can live exactly as you do now—no mingling with elite circles, no need to placate anyone. You remain yourself: independent, free, living by your own rules.
"Ruby faced the pressure from the entire Montgomery family. But with me, it's just you and me, building our own life." He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto hers with renewed intensity.
"Being with me shouldn't be a source of pressure. It should be easier, far easier, than Ruby's situation." His voice softened, urging her. "So tell me, Elara, what is this pressure you feel? Whatever it is, talk to me. Don't bottle it up."
Elara drained her tea as Adrian spoke. The liquid's warmth spread through her, mirrored by the treacherous heat blooming in her chest at his words—words that were dangerously persuasive.
Yet, beneath that treacherous warmth, a cold knot of doubt tightened. Their time together felt insufficient, their understanding of each other still fledgling. How could she let him make such a monumental sacrifice when their future remained so uncertain?
"But ending the engagement means walking away from the Hartley fortune," Elara countered. "And Sadie will only double down, making your life even harder."
Adrian shot Elara a probing look. "Who told you that?"
"Josie," Elara answered.
"And you took her word for it?" Adrian demanded, incredulity lacing his voice.
"Fine, if Josie's not credible, then I'm asking you," Elara pressed on, her voice gaining an edge. "If you break it off with the Heatons, does that slam the door on inheriting the Hartley fortune?"
Adrian's expression turned cool, detached. "I have no desire to return to the Hartley fold. That fortune means nothing to me."
"Answer the question directly, Adrian. Yes or no," Elara insisted, her voice steely.
Adrian paused, a fraction of a second stretching into an eternity before he replied, "Yes."
"Elara, tell me," Adrian pressed, his brow furrowed. "Why are you feeling so much pressure? Is it coming from me?"
A fierce wind howled through the hallway outside, rattling the door. A sudden, torrential downpour had hit Veritasiton that evening, plunging the temperature to just above freezing.
Knowing that Adrian was just recovering from a high fever and was still weak, Elara quickly pulled him inside, shut the door firmly against the storm, and switched on the heater.
Seemingly oblivious to the cold, Adrian tugged at Elara's arm. The icy touch of his palm instantly seeped into her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. "Tell me," he demanded.
Elara lifted her hand and gently cupped his cheek. The warmth and softness of her palm were the only heat he could feel against his chilled skin.
Elara's frown deepened, her voice thick with exasperation. "Honestly, how old are you? Acting like a child? You're freezing. Are you trying to catch your death?"
Ignoring his question, her face stern, she steered Adrian to the stool by the kitchen island, seated him, and began to towel-dry his rain-soaked hair.
Elara had just taken a hot shower and still radiated warmth, the light scent of her soap or shower gel lingering in the air.
Only then did the cold truly seep into Adrian's bones. He reached out instinctively to pull her close, but stopped himself, remembering his own soaked state against her clean warmth. His half-extended hand fell limply back to his side.
Seeing Adrian still shivering, Elara grew more alarmed. "This isn't working," she declared. "You need a hot shower. Now."
She pulled him up from the stool and steered him firmly toward the bathroom. "Sitting around soaked won't help; you'll never warm up. Go get under the hot water. Clean towels are in the cabinet."
Adrian complied, or at least gave the appearance of complying. But he was in no hurry. Right there in front of Elara, he peeled off his soaked white T-shirt and then simply lingered by the bathroom door, making no move to enter.
What had only been hinted at by the damp fabric clinging to his skin was now fully revealed: solid muscle, every defined line and contour evident before her.
Elara's hand, poised to close the bathroom door, froze. Her eyes flickered in a barely perceptible sweep, taking him in: his flawless skin, his lean waist disappearing into the elastic band of his gray sweatpants.
Her gaze lingered on that waistband. 'Damn. Gray sweatpants. That is... dangerously appealing.' The sight instantly conjured images of college athletes fresh off the basketball court, peeling off their jerseys, glistening with sweat, headed for the locker room showers.
Adrian had headed straight to the coffee shop after waking up, bypassing his usual tailored suit. The plain white tee, gray sweatpants, and sneakers were simple and clean, accentuating his already striking features.
Lean with minimal body fat and clearly defined muscles, he projected a tall, effortlessly sharp silhouette.
Elara found herself unexpectedly drawn to his look today. There was a rare, almost boyish quality to him she seldom saw—a clear family resemblance to Adrian's cousin, Justin.
Bare from the waist up, he showcased broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist. Below, encased in the gray sweatpants, he seemed transformed: pure masculine intensity above, youthful, almost cocky energy radiating below.
Lust is nothing but an illusion, Elara. Get a grip!' she mentally chided herself. With a resounding BANG, she slammed the bathroom door shut, the force fueled by a surge of frustrated determination. 'Time to banish those treacherous thoughts.'
Elara retreated to the kitchen, gulping down a glass of water to compose herself. Only then did she remember the glaring problem: she had no spare clothes for Adrian. She headed to the bedroom to search for options.
She recalled buying a set of clothes intended for Alex while overseas, but he'd left abruptly before she could give them to him. After a thorough rummage through her closet, she finally unearthed them.
Alex stood around 6'1", Adrian a solid 6'2". Close enough in build, she figured; they'd have to suffice.
Adrian emerged from the shower with nothing but a distinctly feminine bath towel haphazardly knotted around his hips. Already too small, it sat perilously loose, threatening to desert its post with every movement.
Elara, preparing hot chocolate at the island, tracked Adrian's progress with wary eyes, the precarious towel commanding her uneasy attention. "There are clothes on the couch. Put them on," she instructed, nudging her chin toward the sofa.
Adrian muttered a noncommittal "Mmhmm" but made no move toward the clothes. Instead, he ambled over to the island, observing Elara. "That for me?" he inquired.
"We'll both have some. It helps ward off the chill," she replied.
The apartment was now comfortably warm from the heater, so Adrian, still clad only in the towel, felt no chill. He settled slowly into the chair opposite hers and simply watched her.
Elara added more chocolate, then started the brewing cycle. Looking up, she saw Adrian still hadn't bothered with the clothes.
"Why aren't you dressed?" she asked.
"Whose clothes are these?" Adrian asked. He wasn't one to wear just anyone's cast-offs.
Elara wiped down the countertop, her tone flat. "They're new."
"Who'd you buy them for?" he persisted, a flicker of jealousy unmistakable in his voice.
Elara recognized the brewing irrational jealousy. "For my future boyfriend," she stated plainly. It was, after all, the exact answer she'd given the sales clerk.
"Huh," Adrian murmured, a different interpretation crystallizing in his mind.
Elara didn't push the issue. If he preferred the towel, so be it.
She retrieved Adrian's discarded clothes from the bathroom and loaded them into the washer, setting it to wash and dry. Returning from the laundry room, she found Adrian finally dressed. The pants were slightly short, ending above his ankles, but otherwise, the outfit worked.
"Your future boyfriend must have impressive legs," Adrian remarked, a smirk playing on his lips. "Longer than your ex's."
Elara just stared at him, momentarily speechless.
The kettle emitted two short beeps, signaling the hot chocolate was ready. Elara took two mugs—one black, one white—and filled them. She passed the black one to Adrian.
Adrian, apparently engrossed in replying to an important message, didn't notice Elara's approach, his attention riveted on his phone screen. This focus was typical when work demanded his attention, a state Elara was well accustomed to. Seeing no urgency, she simply stood there, observing him.
He lounged back on the sofa, his tall frame settled comfortably into the simple casual wear. The relaxed fit suited him, emphasizing an effortless attractiveness.
That innate air of privilege clung to him. Even drenched from his recent dash through the rain, he'd retained an aura of untouchable elegance mingled with potent allure. Where others might look merely bedraggled, the rain had etched a compelling, almost fragile vulnerability onto Adrian.
The faint redness rimming his eyes—attributable to exhaustion, not tears—only heightened that devastatingly attractive effect. 'God, Elara, you're hopeless,' she chastised herself inwardly.
"Drink it before it cools off," she prompted.
Adrian looked up, accepted the cup, and took a sip. His brow instantly furrowed.
"Not to your taste?" Elara asked, settling onto the opposite end of the sofa. She tucked her legs up, leaned against the armrest, draped a blanket over her lap, and took a sip from her mug. 'Tastes fine to me,' she thought.
"Too hot," Adrian stated flatly.
Elara fought back a fresh wave of exasperation. "It's hot chocolate, genius. What did you expect?"
"Alright. It's... fine," he conceded, a slight grimace touching his lips. "I'll manage. I'll drink it."
'Finally showing some sense,' Elara thought wryly.
"Ready to answer my question now?" Adrian pressed, his gaze unwavering. Noting the deliberate space she'd put between them, he shifted closer on the sofa. Not touching, but closing the distance enough that she was well within his reach.
Elara took another deliberate sip of her tea, stalling. "What question?" she deflected, feigning ignorance.
"You know very well," Adrian said, his voice dropping low. "What did you mean, the engagement is back on?"
Elara remained silent, despite the palpable tension radiating from Adrian's intense focus.
"Is this about what happened with Victor and Ruby?" Adrian probed.
Elara remained mute.
"If Ruby's situation is the cause, set your mind at ease. Our path wouldn't mirror theirs," Adrian stated. "Once I end this engagement, I'm done with the Hartley family. And my mom is gone, so you'd never face in-law pressures.
"You can live exactly as you do now—no mingling with elite circles, no need to placate anyone. You remain yourself: independent, free, living by your own rules.
"Ruby faced the pressure from the entire Montgomery family. But with me, it's just you and me, building our own life." He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto hers with renewed intensity.
"Being with me shouldn't be a source of pressure. It should be easier, far easier, than Ruby's situation." His voice softened, urging her. "So tell me, Elara, what is this pressure you feel? Whatever it is, talk to me. Don't bottle it up."
Elara drained her tea as Adrian spoke. The liquid's warmth spread through her, mirrored by the treacherous heat blooming in her chest at his words—words that were dangerously persuasive.
Yet, beneath that treacherous warmth, a cold knot of doubt tightened. Their time together felt insufficient, their understanding of each other still fledgling. How could she let him make such a monumental sacrifice when their future remained so uncertain?
"But ending the engagement means walking away from the Hartley fortune," Elara countered. "And Sadie will only double down, making your life even harder."
Adrian shot Elara a probing look. "Who told you that?"
"Josie," Elara answered.
"And you took her word for it?" Adrian demanded, incredulity lacing his voice.
"Fine, if Josie's not credible, then I'm asking you," Elara pressed on, her voice gaining an edge. "If you break it off with the Heatons, does that slam the door on inheriting the Hartley fortune?"
Adrian's expression turned cool, detached. "I have no desire to return to the Hartley fold. That fortune means nothing to me."
"Answer the question directly, Adrian. Yes or no," Elara insisted, her voice steely.
Adrian paused, a fraction of a second stretching into an eternity before he replied, "Yes."
End of Billionaire Lawyer's Secretary Chapter 128. Continue reading Chapter 129 or return to Billionaire Lawyer's Secretary book page.