The silent master
Chapter 14
The days that followed were a study in psychological warfare.
In the light of the high-rise office, Elias was a glacier. He was sharper, colder, and more demanding than he had been before the storm. He barked orders at Jax in front of the staff, emphasizing the "Thorne" and the "Mr. Vance" until the names felt like insults. He kept the three-foot rule with a religious fervor that made the board of directors nod in approval.
But the nights... the nights were a different story.
It started four days after the morning in the kitchen. Jax was in his suite, staring at the ceiling and trying to convince himself that he didn't care about the man on the other side of the wall. At 2:00 AM, his door opened without a knock.
Elias stood there in the dark, his silver hair glowing in the moonlight. He didn't say a word. He simply walked to Jax's bed, climbed under the sheets, and pressed his cold forehead against Jax's chest.
"Don't talk," Elias had whispered that first night. "Just hold me. Please."
And Jax, despite his pride, despite the sting of the day's dismissals, had opened his arms.
Now, it had become their secret ritual. A frantic, hidden reality that existed only in the shadows.
The office was buzzing. The V-4 launch was forty-eight hours away, and the tension in the building was palpable. Jax stood by the door of the conference room, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes scanning the room.
Elias was at the head of the table, leaning over a digital map. He looked exhausted. The purple smudges under his eyes were deep, and he hadn't touched his water in hours.
"The server farm in Singapore needs to be synced by midnight," Elias said, his voice raspy.
"It's impossible, Elias," one of the engineers sighed. "The latency is too high."
Elias looked up, and for a split second, his eyes met Jax's. There was a flash of something-a memory of the night before, of Jax's hands holding his hips, of the way Jax had whispered praise into his ear until he'd come apart.
Elias cleared his throat and looked back at the engineer. "Find a way. Use the satellite relay if you have to. Dismissed."
As the room emptied, Jax stayed. He waited until the heavy glass door clicked shut.
"You need to eat," Jax said, his voice dropping the professional edge.
Elias slumped into his chair, rubbing his temples. "I don't have time to eat, Jaxson. I have a billion-dollar launch and a board that wants my head on a platter."
Jax walked over to the desk. He didn't stand two paces back. He walked right up to the chair and placed a hand on the back of it. He could smell the stress on Elias, a sharp, metallic scent.
"The board isn't in this room right now," Jax murmured.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of Elias's ear. He felt the shiver that went through the smaller man, a visible ripple of reaction.
"Jax, stop," Elias whispered, even as he leaned back into Jax's space. "Someone could walk in. The glass is frosted, but it's not opaque."
"Then don't make a sound," Jax challenged.
He slid his hand under the desk, his fingers finding the inner thigh of Elias's suit pants. He felt the muscle jump under his touch. Elias's breath hitched, his hand flying to the edge of the obsidian desk to steady himself.
"Jaxson... we're in the middle of a workday," Elias gasped, his eyes darting to the door.
"You told me to do my job," Jax rasped, his hand moving higher, his thumb tracing the seam of Elias's trousers. "My job is to take care of you. You're wound so tight you're going to break. Let me help."
Elias let out a soft, strangled moan, his head falling back against Jax's stomach. He looked up at the ceiling, his eyes glazed with a mixture of terror and intoxicating thrill. "You're... you're a terrible employee."
"And you're a very demanding boss," Jax replied, his voice a low, dark caress.
He bent down, capturing Elias's mouth in a deep, silent kiss that tasted of caffeine and desperation. Under the desk, his hand continued its work, finding the heat and the hard evidence of Elias's desire.
For ten minutes, the V-4 launch didn't exist. Singapore didn't exist. There was only the friction of cloth, the stifled gasps of a billionaire losing his grip on his empire, and the steady, grounding strength of the man who owned him in every way that mattered.
When it was over, Elias was shaking, his forehead resting against the cool desk. Jax stood back, straightening his tie and adjusting his jacket as if he'd just been checking the security feed.
"I'll have lunch brought in," Jax said, his voice perfectly level. "The protein salad you like."
Elias looked up, his face flushed, his eyes bright with a dangerous, secret fire. He smoothed his hair, his fingers trembling. "Thank you... Thorne."
Jax nodded, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "Anytime, Mr. Vance."
He walked out of the office, his stride confident. He was still a debtor. He was still a shadow. But as he looked at the frosted glass behind him, he knew that the leash worked both ways.
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