Chapter 63: I want a Grandchild!
Ash’s eyes widened as he stared at the screen, the words blurring in disbelief. His hand trembled slightly.
Just then, the washroom door opened, and Lucien stepped out. He froze when he saw Ash holding his phone.
Ash lifted his gaze to him, voice low and shaken.
"Lucien...who is Stephene?"
Lucien’s steps faltered. He took the phone gently from Ash’s hand, glanced at the message, and his expression went still.
Ash’s voice cracked as he repeated, "What kind of relationship do you have with him?"
Lucien hesitated, then said quietly, "Stephene...he was my senior in high school. He once wanted us to be together, but I turned him down. I still had hope with Adrian back then."
Ash let out a bitter laugh. "Turned him down? But he said you kissed."
Lucien sighed softly, then sat beside him on the edge of the bed. He took Ash’s hands in his, his tone gentle. "Don’t overthink it, Ash. For now, the only person I like...is you."
Ash stared at him, unsure, before asking quietly, "What about Adrian? Do you still love him?"
Lucien stood up slowly, turning his back to Ash. His shoulders tensed. "Sometimes..." he said in a low voice, "It’s exhausting holding onto things that were never meant to be ours."
Ash’s chest tightened. "Lately, you’ve been acting strange," he said softly.
Lucien turned halfway, forcing a faint smile.
"Strange? How?"
Ash swallowed. "Lucien, the man I knew before...wouldn’t have held back like this. You’re an Alpha. How can you stay so calm when I’ve shown you I’m willing to give myself to you?"
Lucien’s eyes flickered away; he swallowed hard, voice almost a whisper. "It’s just...lately I haven’t been feeling well."
Ash’s worry deepened. "If you’re sick, then let’s go to the hospital."
Lucien shook his head and stepped closer, cupping Ash’s cheek with a faint smile. "No need. I’ll be fine. Once I feel better...we can talk about that."
Ash looked at him, uncertain, then gave a small nod.
Just then, his stomach let out a faint growl, breaking the heavy silence. Lucien’s lips curved into a soft smile. "I already ordered some pasta," he said gently. "Come on."
He reached out his hand, helping Ash out of bed before leading him toward the dining room.
...
At the cemetery, Bravin sat quietly in the car, his fingers restlessly against the steering wheel. He glanced at his wristwatch and sighed. "Three hours..." he murmured under his breath. "Is he planning to spend the night there?"
Through the misted window, he finally saw Adrian emerging from the cemetery, wiping tears from his eyes. His shoulders were slumped, his face pale from exhaustion and grief.
Adrian opened the car door and sank into the back seat, his voice low and hoarse. "Take me to the penthouse."
Bravin hesitated, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "No, sir. I can’t."
Adrian frowned faintly. "Why not?"
Bravin took a slow breath before answering. "Your father ordered me to take you home."
Adrian went quiet. He knew Bravin too well, the man wasn’t just a driver; he had been part of their family since Adrian’s childhood. Disobeying his father’s orders could cost Bravin his job, and Adrian couldn’t do that to him.
He learned back, swallowing hard. "Fine."
Bravin started the car toward the mansion. The drive was long and heavy with silence. Adrian reached for a bottle of beer beside him, drinking deeply, one after another, trying to numb the growing tension, and the headache he knew was waiting for him at home.
By the time they arrived, he was heavily drunk, just as he had planned.
As he stumbled through the door, the lights in the living room glared against his tired eyes. His father sat on the sofa beside Ash’s mother and Celeste, all three waiting in silence.
Unbothered, Adrian tried to walk past them, but his father’s sharp voice cut through the air.
"Stop."
Adrian stopped, turning slowly toward them. His father rose from the couch, anger flashing in his eyes as he walked over. He jabbed a finger into Adrian’s chest; once, twice, again-his voice sharp and cutting.
"So this is it? You get yourself drunk just to avoid talking to me?"
Adrian tried to steady himself, swaying slightly on his feet, his eyes glassy.
Ash’s mother quickly stood up and went to them, placing a supportive hand on Adrian’s arm. "He’s totally drunk," she said softly. "I think it’s better if you talk to him tomorrow."
She turned to Adrian gently. "Come on, I’ll take you to the guest room so you can rest."
But before she could move him, his father’s voice snapped through the air. "Stop!"
He glared at them. "Yesterday, the guest room. Today, the guest room. And yet he has a wife, with a room of their own."
His gaze shifted sharply to Celeste, who sat frozen on the couch. He pointed at her. "Why did I even bother arranging this marriage if you can’t share a bed?"
Then, turning back to Adrian, he grabbed his collar, pulling him slightly forward. His voice dropped, cold and firm. "I want you to prove to me that you’re a man."
He shoved him back, and Adrian stumbled, caught just in time by Ash’s mother.
"Leclair, please..." she began, but he cut her off.
"Enough!" he barked, turning to Celeste again.
"What are you waiting for? Take your husband to your room. I want a grand child!"
Celeste dragged Adrian to their room, practically holding him up as he stumbled through the doorway. Once inside, she pushed him onto the bed with a sigh of relief.
"Finally," she said, leaning over him, breathless, "I’ll finally feel your d*ck"
Adrian scrunched his nose, waving his hand weakly. "You...smell awful."
Celeste frowned. "What? Which smell do you want, then? I can change it."
Adrian gave a lazy grin, his words slurred. "Golden...and silver..."
She blinked. "Golden and silver? That’s not even a real perfume!"
Adrian laughed quietly. "It smells...so good..."
Celeste rolled her eyes. "Aah, whatever," she muttered, climbing onto the bed. She started unbuttoning his shirt, but Adrian caught her wrists, pushing weakly.
"I don’t like...big breasts," he mumbled.
Celeste froze, staring down at him.
"What did you just say?"
Adrian chuckled, his head falling to the side. "They...block my breathing."
Her jaw dropped. "You’ve got to be kidding me."
Ignoring his weak resistance, she pulled his shirt off anyway, muttering under her breath, "Block your breathing, my foot..."
Adrian tried to roll away, mumbling something incoherent, but Celeste caught his arm and pulled him back, half-annoyed.
"Stop moving, you idiot," she said, tugging at his tie and tossing it aside. "You can hate my perfume all you want, but you’re not escaping me tonight, your father needs a grandchild."
Adrian groaned, barely conscious, while Celeste continued dressing him, shaking her head in disbelief.
Next morning...
Adrian woke up to dull ache in his head and the soft sound of breathing beside him. Turning slightly, his eyes widened, Celeste was lying close, one arm draped across his chest, half-naked beneath the sheets.
He glanced down at himself, only a boxer. His heart skipped. "What the hell...?"
He jumped out of bed, startled.
Celeste stirred, rubbing her eyes lazily. "Come back here," she murmured, still half asleep.
Adrian’s breath came uneven. "This time...did we really do it?"
Celeste blinked, then gave a small smirk. "What do you mean this time? This is the second time already."
Adrian froze. The first time, he knew it had been fake-but this time...there were no cameras, no proof. His thoughts scattered.
"I don’t believe you," he said, shaking. "If we really did, I’d feel it...even if I don’t remember."
Celeste’s smile deepened as she stretched. "Then how about we replay it, so you can remember properly?"
The thought made his skin crawl. He grabbed a towel and bolted out of the room, rushing to the guest bathroom.
Moments later, the sound of running water filled the air. Adrian stood under the steaming shower, scrubbing at his skin as if he could wash away his confusion, and whatever nightmare he’d just woken into.
...
Later, he sat in the backseat of the car, restless, running his fingers through his damp hair. His thoughts were a storm. Suddenly, he snapped, voice sharp and hoarse.
"Bravin, from now on, make sure there’s a camera installed in my room!"
Bravin blinked at the rearview mirror. "A camera...in your room, sir?"
"Yes!" Adrian barked, leaning forward. "Because now I’m stranded, I don’t even know if anything happened between us!"
The words hit Bravin like a slap. His eyes widened, his foot slammed the brake, and the car jerked to a halt with a screech.
"Wait..." Bravin turned around, staring at him. "Do you mean...you slept with her?"
The words slept echoed in Adrian’s head like a curse. His face twisted, and without warning, he flung open the door, stumbling out onto the roadside.
He bent over and started vomiting violently.
Bravin sat frozen behind the wheel, watching in disbelief. Then he muttered under his breath, rubbing his forehead, "Good grief...it must’ve looked awful."
Meanwhile, Celeste was still in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, lost in thought. After a moment, she reached for her phone and dialed a number.
"Hello, ma’am," came the polite voice on the other end.
Celeste said flatly, "I want you to buy me a Golden and Silver perfume."
There was a brief silence, then the voice stammered, "I don’t think such a perfume exists, ma’am."
Celeste’s eyes narrowed. "Are you calling my husband mad for saying it exists?"
The person on the other end panicked. "No, no, madam! I didn’t mean that!"
Celeste’s tone turned cold. "I don’t care where you find it. Just bring it to me."