The Seductive Pretty Boy of the Matriarchal World-Chapter 85: Judgment Beneath the Trees

Chapter 85: Judgment Beneath the Trees

The moment those words left Serena’s mouth, Elias went blank.

For any man, it was the kind of humiliation that did not stop at embarrassment. It was being stripped raw, having your dignity flung to the ground, then ground under someone’s heel for good measure. His eyes lost focus for a second. Even his breathing seemed to stall, as if his body had forgotten what to do with that much shame all at once.

Serena watched him without a trace of pity. There was no softness in her gaze, no hesitation, only the sharp satisfaction of having taken control of him again.

She did not let him stay dazed for long. Her fingers pressed down slightly, and with a crisp click the door lock gave way. Noise from outside rushed back into the car, loud and sudden, and Elias snapped back to himself.

His hand shot up at once.

Smack.

He caught Serena by the wrist just as she was about to open the door. His lips parted. They trembled around words that refused to come out.

Serena looked at him with calm contempt. "I still have a sliver of patience left for you, Elias. Choose now. If you make me wait any longer, you can forget about keeping even your clothes. I’ll throw you out there completely naked."

His body shuddered.

He only had to imagine it for a second. Walking into open view like that, under bright lights, under strangers’ eyes, with people staring and whispering and filming. The image alone was enough to make blood flood his face so hard it looked almost violent, as though a few drops might really break through skin.

At last he closed his eyes, like a man giving up at the gallows.

"I’ll wear the pants."

Exactly what she expected.

"Then put them on."

Only then did Serena release his ankle. She leaned back with her arms folded, her expression edged with a faint, amused cruelty.

That look told Elias everything.

He had already put the briefs on. If he wanted the slacks, then he had to take them back off first, right here, right in front of her, under that mocking stare.

His long lashes fluttered once, twice. In the end, resignation won. He peeled the thin fabric back down and off himself, then stepped into his pants and dragged them up with stiff, careful movements.

At least from the outside he looked dressed again. His clothes were on. Nothing obvious was exposed. Only the disorder remained, the faint drag of fabric, the unsettled line of his shirt, the impression of someone who had put himself back together in a hurry.

But Serena could see it perfectly.

He was sitting wrong. Standing wrong. Breathing wrong. Every inch of him looked uncomfortably aware of his own body.

"Liora," Serena said suddenly, turning her head. "Do you usually drive in neutral?"

Liora Voss understood at once. A soft laugh brushed past her lips. "Who drives in neutral?"

The look Elias threw Serena was full of hatred. He had obviously understood too.

Serena ignored it. Her gaze dropped to the briefs lying on the floorboard. Using the pointed heel of her shoe, she hooked them up with idle elegance and flicked them onto his lap.

"Take that with you," she said. "I don’t allow filthy things in my car."

The line was aimed at the cloth, but the look in her eyes made it plain enough that she was talking about him too.

Elias said nothing after that.

There was no point. Whatever thin layer of civility had existed between them was gone now. Torn clean through.

He folded the briefs as fast as he could, shoved them into his pocket, and got out of the car.

He did not close the door behind him.

Serena reached toward it in irritation, but before her hand touched the frame, Elias reappeared and slammed it shut with all the force he had.

Bang.

Serena’s face changed instantly. If she had reacted even a fraction slower, her fingers would have been caught in it.

She stared at the retreating figure of the blond man jogging away, fury flashing across her features.

That filthy little bastard.

One day, she would break him for real.

Once he was out of the car and swallowed by the crowd, Elias’s pace slowed. He walked through the stream of students with a faint stiffness to his steps, subtle enough that most people would not notice, but not subtle enough to escape System Theta.

[Are you alright?]

He actually nodded.

Somewhat.

System Theta seemed almost stunned.

[Serena Blackwood went too far this time.]

Elias added, with complete honesty, It felt a little too good, actually.

[What?]

He was not lying.

It had felt good.

Maybe the first spike had been pain. Maybe it had been the roughness, the pressure, the raw drag of humiliation. But once Pain Conversion kicked in, the sensation had changed the way it always did.

Pain became pleasure.

As for the shame of going without anything under the slacks, he truly had not felt much of that at all. It was hidden inside his clothes. As long as he kept his pants on, who was going to know whether he had anything on underneath? 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

At most, it was a petty little game between him and Serena.

A private kink dressed up as punishment.

With that thought, Elias kept walking toward the dorms as if nothing had happened. Then he remembered Lila Morgan was still tailing him. If someone was watching, then his behavior needed to match the role he had been playing. He was supposed to look shaken, miserable, ruined enough to be convincing.

So he changed direction and took a quieter route.

That choice brought him naturally to the tree-lined path behind the academic buildings. The rain had already stopped, leaving the small grove washed clean. Damp earth breathed up a cool, dark scent. Wet leaves held the last of the light. Somewhere in the hush of the path, the faint sweetness of rain-bruised flowers drifted through the air, fresh enough to clear the head.

Elias had not even managed a full breath before he froze.

A figure stood beneath the trees.

Silver.

The color caught first, then the stillness. She stood there like a blade of frost pressed into the world, clean and pale and untouchable, set apart from everything around her.

"Giselle..." Elias whispered.

His whole body began to shake.

It was the instinctive trembling of something low and dirty caught in sudden light, the panic of a thief who had stepped out of shadow too late. He turned on reflex, ready to leave, ready to get away before he had to face what was in front of him.

Stop me, he prayed inwardly, the thought sharp with anticipation. Make her stop me. Make her judge me properly.

And, exactly as expected, a cold voice cut through the damp air.

"Stop."

Elias locked in place at once, one shoulder still twisted halfway through the turn. He did not dare move again.

Footsteps approached slowly, measured and clear against the wet path. Elias lowered his head. He could not bring himself to meet her eyes. A pair of immaculate white shoes came into view and halted in front of him.

"Why?"

Giselle’s voice was calm. Almost too calm. She sounded as though she were stating a fact, but the confusion beneath it cut far deeper than anger.

"Why did you go back to Serena Blackwood?" she asked. "You promised me you wouldn’t."

Elias kept his head bowed.

He did not answer.

What reached her instead was the soft, broken sound of him crying.

The moment the sound touched her ears, something dark in Giselle stirred. It rose so quickly it nearly shocked her. Looking at the bowed blond head in front of her, at that color she should have found beautiful, she was suddenly seized by the urge to fist her hand in his hair and wrench his head back hard enough to hurt him.

She did not understand him.

She truly did not.

She had promised to help treat his father. She had offered him protection. She had done more for him than anyone else in his position should have had the right to expect.

And yet he remained bottomless.

Nothing was enough.

The second she stepped away from him, even for a little while, he sank straight back into the mud, as if he wanted it, as if he would rather let it swallow him whole than stand still on clean ground. Even if the end of it was rotting there until he became part of the filth himself.

"Answer me."

Her voice rose, not by much, but enough to bring her right back to the fury that had filled her when she made that phone call to Serena. It was the same rage, cold enough to kill.

Elias only cried harder and apologized through it.

"I’m sorry... I really am. I’m so sorry..."

If Giselle wanted a neat explanation, she was asking the wrong story for one. Those belonged in softer worlds. Here, everything had to stay blurred and ugly. No clean confession, no tidy misunderstanding, no simple clarity. Otherwise, how could anything drag on after this?

His apology only made her feel more irritated.

In the end, Giselle turned away without another word. She did not explain herself, did not scold him again, did not offer comfort. She simply made her choice and moved to leave.

She did not want to see him anymore.

She did not want any further connection to him at all.

The instant Elias saw that, light flashed through his eyes.

He yanked the folded briefs back out of his pocket and crushed them tightly in one hand, then lunged forward and wrapped both arms around Giselle’s waist.

"Giselle, no," he choked out. "Please don’t go..."

He held on like a drowning man clawing for the last thing left above water. He used all his strength, all his weight, clinging so tightly that there was no chance of mistaking it for hesitation.

Giselle’s body locked up.

She had always hated broad physical contact. She could tolerate almost nothing of it. And now the person holding her was someone she had already decided to abandon.

"Let go."

A great deal of her usual icy composure vanished from her face. Her brows drew tight. A faint vein stood out at her smooth temple. She had reached the very edge of exploding.

Elias felt it, and the corner of his mouth curved with quiet malice.

Then, without hesitation, he pressed his wet face against the center of her back.

The damp heat of his tears soaked through the thin fabric of her shirt and touched the smooth skin beneath it. The sensation traveled straight through the cloth, startlingly warm, startlingly intimate, and Giselle’s body shivered before she could stop it.