The Billionaire's Two-Faced Escort Wife-Chapter 81: I’m Cold

Adrian kept his eyes clamped shut, his breathing shallow and even, simulating the deep rest he was desperately far from achieving. The sudden appearance of Alexander’s footsteps, quiet but heavy with the tension of the last hour, sent a jolt of panic and anticipation through him.

​He heard Alexander stop right beside the bed, near his head. The mattress dipped slightly as Alexander sat down, not on his own side, but right next to Adrian’s back. The subtle heat and scent of Alexander—expensive cologne, faint leather, and the unique, sharp scent of his controlled intensity—immediately enveloped Adrian.

​Adrian gripped the pillow tighter, internally bracing himself. He had set the rules: no touch without consent. But Alexander had been pushed to his limit, and Adrian wasn’t sure if his physical safety protocols would hold up against Alexander’s psychological hunger.

​The silence stretched, agonising and thick. Adrian could feel the warmth of Alexander radiating against his back, close enough that he might feel the CEO’s breath if he shifted.

​Finally, Alexander spoke, his voice a low, rough murmur, directed at Adrian’s back.

​"You’re not asleep," Alexander stated, not as a question, but as a simple, tired fact.

​Adrian remained silent, feigning sleep.

​Alexander sighed, a heavy, defeated sound that seemed to carry the weight of his sleepless nights and suppressed desires.

​"I finished the memo. And I spoke to Doc. Stan again. He’s sending over the prescription and a physical therapist tomorrow. You’ll recover faster here. Where I can see you."

​He paused. Adrian’s heart hammered against his ribs, making it difficult to maintain his steady breathing.

​"You’re right, Adrian," Alexander continued, the admission shocking Adrian into a rigid stillness. "You can’t trust me. I drove away and left you on that street. I hurt you. I don’t blame you for hating me. And I don’t blame you for wanting Sebastian."

​Alexander’s voice hitched slightly on Sebastian’s name. "He’s safer. Kinder. He wouldn’t... he wouldn’t look at your body falling out of a towel and think of nothing but how to make you scream."

​Adrian felt a hot flush creep up his neck.

​Alexander reached out slowly, tentatively, and his fingers brushed the soft cotton of Adrian’s pyjama shirt, resting just an inch from the bandages on his shoulder. It was a non-invasive touch, a violation of the proximity boundary, but not the physical touch boundary.

​"You said you want freedom," Alexander whispered. "I’m holding the keys to it. You don’t have to love me. You don’t have to want me. You just have to endure this year, safely, right here, until our... divorce. No more accidents. No more threats from Chloe."

​His fingers traced the line of the pyjama seam. "I know she did it, Chloe, I found her. She won’t be a problem again. She’s been... dealt with. The men who attacked you are already facing charges."

​Adrian’s eyes snapped open beneath his lids. Chloe was dealt with? That was terrifyingly efficient, and utterly characteristic of Alexander’s power.

​Alexander slowly retracted his hand, pulling it back to his knee.

​"You asked me why I’m fighting it," Alexander continued, his voice barely audible. "Why I can’t just... be with you. You’re right. It’s fear. Not of the family, not of the rejection. But of you. You are the only person who has ever seen me—the real me. The monster and... the desperate man. The man who needs you to save him."

​"And if I let you love me," Alexander concluded, his voice heavy with finality, "I lose control. I lose my life. I lose everything. So I will keep my word. I will be your protector, your jailer, and your sponsor. I will give you the freedom you deserve, even if it costs me my sanity."

​He stood up, the mattress springing back to its level position. The loss of his warmth was immediate.

​"I’ll take the couch in the study tonight," Alexander said, his voice flat. "But if you need anything—anything at all—you call for me. Don’t move."

​Adrian kept his eyes shut until he heard the faint click of the door closing. Only then did he turn over, curling up on his side. He opened his eyes, staring at the space where Alexander had been.

​Alexander’s confession was a messy, painful contradiction: he loved him, he feared him, he needed him, and he was leaving him. And in his desperate, possessive way, Alexander had just secured Adrian’s safety by eliminating Chloe.

​Adrian reached out and grabbed Alexander’s pillow, pulling it against his chest. He inhaled the lingering scent, a mix of power and despair. The longing, which he had successfully denied for hours, flared up, raw and unavoidable.

​He knew his mind hated Alexander, but his body, his traitorous, lonely heart, wanted the man who was sacrificing his control—and his couch—for a promise of freedom.

​’I’m not waiting for him to come to bed...’ he thought, echoing his earlier murmured denial. ’But I don’t have to wait. He said I could call for him.’

​Adrian stared at the door. He was battered, emotionally exhausted, and incredibly lonely. Alexander was right there, vulnerable, and waiting.

With a concluded mind, he lowered his feet to the floor and stood from the bed, the pillow still in his hands.

Heart pounding within his chest, body warm and tingly, he moved out of the room and toward the study.

He was forming and erasing different things to say to Alexander when he got there that wouldn’t make him seem desperate.

He reached the study door and paused, hugging the pillow tightly against his chest.

He reached out one hand, holding the door handle, and with a deep breath, he gently twisted it, pushing it in.

The moment Alexander heard the door open, he raised his head from the screen, his body freezing as he saw the person standing there.

He quickly took his hands under the table to hide his shaky fingers, that was how badly Adrian affected him. Adrian makes the might CEO nervous and shaky without even trying.

"I asked you to call me... not to leave the bed –"

"You said you were sleeping... on the sofa," Adrian said, his voice wasn’t loud, but the disapproval wasn’t missed.

Alexander sighed, "I couldn’t sleep, Adrian." He replied, holding Adrian’s gaze for a few seconds before he turned away and switched off his computer.

"What do you want?" Alexander asked, standing from his chair and walking toward Adrian in slow, unsure steps.

’Was he here to tell me that he wanted to leave for good? Did he want to go and live with Sebastian?’

He stopped a foot’s space away from Adrian, not looking at his face. If Adrian was going to say something that would break his heart, he didn’t want to look at his face while he did so.

Adrian bit his lip, searching Alexander’s unreadable face.

’Does he not want me anymore?’ He thought.

"You don’t have to sleep on the couch. You’ll be cranky by morning. Sleep with me –"

"What?" Alexander asked, his voice slightly edgy.

Adrian fluttered his lashes as he tried to rephrase his words, "I meant... sleep, literally sleeping, boss. You can share the bed; we’ve done it many times. You don’t have to run from me. After all, this is your home and I’m the guest. Come back to bed." He sighed quietly after speaking.

Alexander knew he should refuse, to protect his heart, but that same heart was yearning to get close to Adrian, to hold him—to love him.

How could he refuse?

"Are you coming?" Adrian asked, already walking out of the office.

Alexander sighed, "Of course." He murmured.

How could he not?

They were back in their room and Adrian climbed back on his side, facing the ceiling.

"I’ll take a quick shower. Sleep first," Alexander said, and headed into the bathroom.

Adrian frowned.

He didn’t call Alexander back for a shower, he called him back to stay on the damned bed with him. The loneliness was killing him, but the stubborn man was trying his best to stay away from him.

He took a deep breath and got off the bed, switched off the lights, and returned to bed.

Now, only the bedside lamp illuminated the room with its soft, golden lights, not too, bright, not too dim, just right for the mood.

Adrian closed his eyes, counting sheep in his head to kill time until Alexander appeared again.

It was after a few minutes that Alexander showed up in dark, silky pyjama pants.

He stood a distance from the bed and observed Adrian, making sure he was actually asleep.

Slowly, he walked over to the bed and very quietly lowered himself onto it.

He lay on his side, staring at Adrian’s curved back as he slept.

Adrian slowly opened his eyes. He was half-asleep, but the moment the bed dipped, he knew Alexander was finally out.

He was angry and felt stupid.

He took it upon himself to go and get his devil boss to come back to bed, but the man waited him out in the bathroom, waiting until he slept to show up.

"You shouldn’t have bothered coming back if you were going to let me fall asleep alone," Adrian murmured, clenching his fists.

Alexander paused, surprised to hear Adrian speak. He was very sure Adrian had slept off, but he guessed he was wrong.

"Adrian, you’re awake?" He asked cautiously.

Adrian sighed and shut his eyes tightly.

"I’m cold," he stated, his tone a bit harsh.

Alexander was behind him in a flash, pulling the sheet to cover Adrian’s body.

"No," Adrian held Alexander’s wrist to stop him from covering him with the sheet.

He slowly brought Alexander’s hand to his waist, dropping it there, "This cold, Alex. Hold me." Adrian whispered.