Chapter 222 Chapter 0221

Chapter 222 Chapter 0221
Clark didn’t say a word when he stepped out of the apartment.
Adam followed, as he always did.
Clark didn’t tell him where they were going.
Adam didn’t ask. Didn’t need to.
Because when Clark finally stopped walking, they were outside a bar.
Adam exhaled, shaking his head slightly.
"Really."
Clark didn’t acknowledge him. Didn’t even pause.
Just pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Adam followed. Because that was his job.
The bar was dim, filled with the familiar smell of cheap liquor, sweat, and regret. The kind of place where people came to forget.
Clark walked straight to the counter.
He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t glance at Adam before speaking.
"Whiskey. Double."
Adam leaned against the bar, arms crossed, watching as the very well-known, very respected lawyer tilted back the first drink in one go.
The bartender barely had time to set the glass down before Clark tapped it, signaling for another.
Adam arched a brow.
"That bad, huh?"
Clark didn’t look at him.
Just took the second glass and brought it to his lips.
"Didn't think you talked on the job," he murmured before taking another sip.
Adam smirked slightly. "Didn’t think you drank like this."
Clark finally glanced at him, expression unreadable.
"You don’t know me."
"Clearly."
Clark didn’t argue.
Didn’t say anything, actually.
Just finished the second glass and signaled for a third.
Adam watched him closely now. Not with concern. Just curiosity.
Clark was always put together. Cold. Controlled.
This? This was different.
The third drink disappeared as fast as the first two.
And then—someone noticed him.
A man. Tall. Dark-haired. Well-dressed, but casual enough for the setting.
He leaned against the bar, standing close.
"Didn’t expect to see someone like you in a place like this," the man said smoothly.
Clark looked at him. Not dismissing. Not rejecting. Just... considering.
Then he let out a low chuckle.
"Then I guess you don’t know me either," Clark said, voice a little smoother now, whiskey softening his usual sharp edges.
The man smiled. "Guess not. Mind if I change that?"
Clark took another sip. "That depends."
Adam listened without reacting.
He had assumed Clark was the type to push people away, to drown in work rather than distraction.
But this?
This was not pushing away.
This was Clark pulling someone in.
The man leaned closer, resting his arm on the bar beside Clark’s. "What are you drinking?"
Clark tilted the empty glass toward him. "You tell me."
The man smirked. "Looks like whiskey."
Clark hummed, amused. "Looks like you’re observant."
"I have my moments."
A pause. Then, more deliberate—
"You looking for company?"
Clark didn’t hesitate. "Maybe."
Adam arched a brow, \`Well. That was fast.’
"The man tapped his fingers lightly against the counter. "Lucky me."
Clark didn’t answer immediately.
He just finished his drink, then set the glass down with a quiet clink.
Then—he shifted closer.
"You good at more than just conversation?"
The man’s smirk widened slightly. "I could ask you the same thing."
Clark chuckled softly.
Adam shook his head.
\`The unshakable, untouchable lawyer, drowning himself in liquor and strangers.’
If he didn’t know any better, he’d almost call it self-destructive.
But Adam wasn’t here to judge.
Wasn’t here to interfere.
Clark could drink himself stupid.
Could take some guy home and forget whatever it was he was trying to forget.
That wasn’t Adam’s problem.
His problem started if someone put a gun to Clark’s head.
And right now?
The only thing pressed against Clark was the stranger’s hand grazing his thigh.
Clark looked up at the man, gaze sharper than before, voice dropping lower.
"You got a place?"
The man tilted his head slightly. "I was hoping you did."
Clark exhaled, considering.
Then he stood, adjusting his cuffs, slipping a few bills onto the counter before turning toward the door.
The man followed without question.
Adam watched them go, lips twitching slightly.
\`Well. At least the job isn’t boring.’
He didn’t follow immediately.
He let Clark and the stranger step outside first, the cool night air cutting through the heat of the bar. The two of them moved quickly—too quickly—like this was routine for Clark. Like this was just another night.
Adam took his time. Watched.
Clark leaned in, murmuring something low into the man’s ear. The stranger smirked, his hand brushing over Clark’s waist before pulling him closer. Too familiar. Too easy.
Adam exhaled, shaking his head slightly.
Clark wasn’t the only one drunk tonight. That guy was loose on his feet too, swaying slightly when Clark pulled away.
The stranger said something, voice too low for Adam to catch.
Clark chuckled softly, head tipping slightly as he leaned in again. A whisper. Another smirk. A kiss.
Adam sighed, reaching for the car door.
Clark broke away first, exhaling as he turned toward the vehicle.
"Drive," he murmured, sliding into the back seat without another glance.
The stranger followed, shutting the door behind him.
Adam stood there for a second longer.
Then he got behind the wheel.
And as soon as they pulled out onto the street, the sounds from the back seat started.
Clark was pressed against the stranger, his hands roaming freely, lips moving with slow, deliberate intent.
Adam adjusted the rearview mirror.
Then immediately regretted it.
Clark’s tie was already loosened. Fingers traced the bare skin at his collarbone. A soft hum of approval escaped his lips as the stranger deepened the kiss, pulling him closer.
Adam clicked his tongue.
"Really?"
Clark didn’t respond.
Didn’t acknowledge him at all.
The stranger, though—he smirked against Clark’s mouth.
"Don’t mind us," he murmured, lips brushing against Clark’s jaw.
Adam exhaled sharply through his nose.
Not his business.
He kept his focus on the road, driving the rest of the way without another word.
The back seat was filled with quiet sounds—kisses, soft laughter, the rustle of fabric.
Adam kept his grip firm on the wheel, eyes forward.
It wasn’t long before they arrived.
The car rolled to a smooth stop in front of Clark’s building.
Adam put it in park, turned off the engine, and waited.
Clark didn’t move immediately.
The stranger pressed another kiss to his lips before finally leaning back, eyes flicking to Adam.
"Nice ride," he said casually.
Adam didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at him.
Clark, finally, unfolded himself from the backseat. His movements were fluid, practiced, like he’d done this a thousand times before.
He stepped out. The stranger followed.
Adam got out last, locking the car behind them.
Clark was already heading toward the building entrance, his tie undone, his steps a little slower than usual.
The stranger was close behind, his hand trailing lightly over Clark’s wrist.
Adam watched.
Not with concern. Not yet.
But something about Clark’s movements felt off.
They entered the building.
Clark headed straight for the stairs.
Adam followed.
The stranger hesitated for a split second.
Then, with an amused hum, he said, "No elevator?"
Clark didn’t answer.
Instead, he simply grabbed the man by his tie, pulled him in, and kissed him.
Adam exhaled.
"Right," the stranger murmured when Clark finally pulled back. "Not complaining."
Adam said nothing.
But he noticed.
Not just the avoidance of the elevator.
Not just the way Clark had dismissed the question entirely.
No—it was something deeper.
Clark’s avoidance wasn’t casual.
It wasn’t habitual.
It was absolute.
When they left the house earlier, Adam had assumed Clark just preferred the stairs.
His place was on the fourth floor, after all. Not an unreasonable choice.
But then—the tenth floor, twice in one day.
And now, again, avoiding the elevator in his own building.
Adam wasn’t stupid.
He didn’t know exactly what Clark’s issue was.
But he knew this wasn’t just preference.
Something was off.