CEO loves me with all his soul.-Chapter 126. Worth.

The air in the club’s back corridor was heavy—like it remembered too much pain. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as Wryn leaned casually against the wall, a cigarette dangling from his lips like an afterthought. His gaze lingered on Adrian, standing a few feet away, statuesque and cold, dressed in a tailored black suit that matched the frost in his silver eyes.

"You’ve changed," Wryn said suddenly, voice slurred faintly from whatever he had drunk that night. "Two years ago, you would’ve cried if someone raised their voice."

Adrian didn’t blink. His arms were folded, and the shadows under his cheekbones deepened with the flickering light. He was perfectly still—an eerie calm before a storm.

"That was a long time ago," Adrian said quietly. "And I don’t think we’re on such warm terms that you get to mention the past."

Wryn snorted. "Right. You always were a sensitive brat. I still remember when Father locked you in the basement. God, you cried so much I thought you’d drown."

Adrian’s fingers twitched.

He remembered it too—every moment. The cold concrete floor, the starvation, the damp rot in the walls, and the silence. Four days alone, discarded like waste because he and Wryn had fought over something trivial. A scratched sketchbook. A broken paintbrush. Maybe a bruised ego.

He had tried to forget, burying it beneath adulthood and Ethan’s protective warmth, but memory had a cruel way of resurfacing when you least wanted it.

Wryn continued, unbothered, mockery slipping off his tongue like poison.

"And now look at you. Fancy husband, fancy babies, acting like you’re too good for us. Still such a—" he grinned, eyes cruel "—slut for attention."

Adrian’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t move.

Not a flinch.

Not a word.

But something did move—Ethan.

He had stepped out from behind the shadow of the corridor, dressed simply in a long black coat, his presence impossible to ignore. The moment the word left Wryn’s mouth, Ethan’s fist collided with his jaw like a steel hammer.

Crack.

Wryn stumbled back, dazed, clutching his face. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

"Say that again," Ethan growled, voice low and dangerous. "Say one more word about him."

"Ethan," Adrian hissed, grabbing his wrist just as he moved to throw another punch. "Stop."

His hand was warm, grounding. Ethan froze, chest heaving. His black eyes burned with rage, but he slowly stepped back, allowing Adrian to take the lead.

Wryn coughed, blood staining his sleeve. He sneered despite the pain. "He tamed you, huh?"

Adrian turned away from him. "No," he said softly. "I just know when something’s no longer worth my time."

Just then, the echo of clicking heels broke the tension. Officer Jena, second-in-command under Chief Argo, arrived with a sharp, confident stride. Her uniform was crisp, and her expression unreadable as she looked between the bruised Wryn and the tense trio.

"Well, well," she said, arching a brow. "I was told things might get messy, but I didn’t think I’d walk into this."

She gave Ethan a once-over and sighed. "Don’t worry, Mr. Levistis, we’re not pressing assault charges. Not unless Wryn here starts squealing."

Wryn muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

Jena turned to him with a clipboard in hand. "Wryn Hudel, you’re not under arrest. Yet. But we do have questions about your recent contacts and activities, including a very interesting meeting with a woman and a mystery bag."

Adrian’s attention sharpened.

Wryn rolled his eyes but said nothing.

Jena smirked. "You can play dumb with me later. For now, we’ll just have a nice ride to the station. Come on."

Wryn paused, looking at Adrian one last time. His expression shifted for just a second—conflicted, maybe even regretful—but it passed quickly, replaced with the smirking defiance that defined him.

"You’ll never be part of the Hudel blood," he said softly. "You’re still just the outsider."

Adrian met his gaze, calm and cold.

"I never wanted to be part of it."

Ethan stepped beside him, one hand resting possessively on his waist. Wryn’s mouth twisted slightly at the sight, but he allowed Jena to lead him away.

As they disappeared down the corridor, Adrian leaned briefly against Ethan, tension bleeding out of his shoulders.

"You shouldn’t have hit him," he murmured.

"He deserved worse," Ethan said darkly.

Adrian nodded once, then leaned his head against Ethan’s chest, closing his eyes. "Maybe. But I’m not the scared boy in that basement anymore."

"No," Ethan said, wrapping his arms around Adrian’s waist. "You’re the man who rebuilt himself. Who gave me a family. And who didn’t need revenge to heal."

Adrian smiled faintly. "Says the man who almost broke his face for me."

Ethan bent down, pressing a kiss to Adrian’s temple. "I’ll always be your weapon. You just tell me when to strike."

Adrian chuckled, soft and tired. "Let’s go home."

--

Augustin gripped the steering wheel loosely, one hand resting at the top, his posture casual, but his eyes were alert. The hum of the engine filled the silence between him and Adrian, who sat in the passenger seat staring out the window with an unreadable expression.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind that often settled between people who had seen too much together to need words to fill every space.

"You didn’t say much after Wryn left," Augustin said at last, voice calm, non-judgmental.

Adrian exhaled slowly, eyes still focused outside. "There’s nothing left to say."

"You mean you don’t want to say it," Augustin countered gently.

Adrian turned his face slightly, silver eyes catching the fading sunlight. "He’s just... a leftover part of a life I don’t claim anymore."

Augustin glanced at him. "But it still gets to you."

Adrian didn’t deny it.

There was a long beat of silence. They passed a streetlight that flickered weakly as they drove beneath it. The city’s neon signs were beginning to flicker on—soft glows of red, blue, and violet painting streaks over the windshield.

"I’m not angry anymore," Adrian said quietly. "I think... that’s what surprises me. Seeing him didn’t fill me with rage. Just emptiness. Like he never meant to care, and I finally stopped hoping he ever would."

Augustin nodded slightly. "It’s a kind of freedom. When you stop needing the apology that’ll never come."

"Maybe," Adrian whispered. "But it still hurts."

Augustin was quiet, thoughtful. Then, with a sideways glance, he added, "You handled it well. I saw your fingers twitch. You wanted to slap him, didn’t you?"

Adrian gave a soft snort of laughter. "Briefly."

"Ethan beat you to it anyway," Augustin said with a smirk.

"That man has no chill when it comes to me," Adrian replied, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. freewebnσvel.cѳm

"Jealous," Augustin muttered. "You get one overprotective, gorgeous husband, and the rest of us get secondhand snacks."

Adrian chuckled. "Leclair would kill you if he heard that."

Augustin rolled his eyes. "He would give me a lecture on patience and balance and—" he changed his voice to mimic his husband’s "—’Augustin, darling, let’s not wake the babies with your infernal dramatic flair.’"

Adrian laughed, and for a moment, the heaviness lifted. The sound of it surprised even himself—light and real.

"You two are cute," Adrian said, relaxing against the seat. "Even if you try to act all detached and mafia-level intimidating, Leclair’s the only one who can make you sit quietly and eat your vegetables."

"I do not sit quietly," Augustin said with dignity. "I sit strategically."

They both laughed again, the tension easing further.

After a few more minutes, Augustin adjusted the air conditioning and said more seriously, "You think Wryn’s really involved? Or just a puppet?"

Adrian leaned his head back against the seat. "I’m not sure. He doesn’t have the guts to mastermind something like this. But he’s... eager to please. Someone must’ve used that. Flattered his ego, gave him a role to play."

"So someone else is behind this." Augustin’s voice had lost all of its earlier teasing edge. His mind was already running through probabilities.

"Yeah," Adrian murmured. "I think Wryn was meant to distract us. Someone else is deeper. More calculating."

Augustin nodded. "Then it’s time to dig deeper."

They drove in silence for a while longer until Adrian’s phone buzzed. A text from Ethan:

[ Ethan ]: Company’s quiet. Mathew’s updating me on the genetics report. Be home in two hours. Tell Augustin not to feed you junk.

Adrian smirked and read it aloud.

"Rude," Augustin muttered. "I have exquisite taste. I was going to make duck risotto tonight."

"That’s fancy," Adrian said, raising an eyebrow. "Did Leclair leave instructions?"

"No," Augustin sniffed. "I looked it up. I can YouTube just like everyone else."

They stopped at a red light. Augustin’s phone buzzed too—this time from Leclair, a short video of Seraphina trying to eat her foot and Aurelius smacking a stuffed bear with disturbing focus.

Augustin showed it to Adrian. They both broke into laughter.

"Parenthood is terrifying," Adrian said.

"Trust me, I know," Augustin said with mock solemnity. "2 nights ago, Seraphina spat mashed peas at my face. I think she’s practicing to join a mafia shootout."

"She’s your niece. It’s in the blood."

The light turned green, and the car moved on again.

Adrian watched the city pass by—familiar roads, flickering signs, lives unfolding in windows and on sidewalks. And for a moment, he felt a strange stillness. He was far from the cold basement of the Hudel estate. Far from the terrified teenager he once was.

His phone buzzed again.

[ Ethan ]: Love you. Take care till I get there.

Adrian smiled.

"What’s that look?" Augustin asked, not taking his eyes off the road.

"Nothing," Adrian said softly. "Just... remembering what’s worth fighting for."

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