Chapter 48 Confused emotion
Lucas swallowed hard. “Yes,” he breathed.
Alex let out a shaky laugh. “My heart’s going crazy. Is yours racing right now?”
“Yes,” Lucas whispered back. “I think it’s going crazy too.”
“Really?” Alex sounded almost relieved. “I like it. That’s a good thing, right?”
“What? No—no, it’s not,” Lucas blurted, panic spilling out. “It’s not a good thing. This can’t happen. I can’t let it happen.”
On the other end, Alex’s heart jolted. “Why?” His voice tightened. “Why is it bad?”
Silence stretched between them again, heavy and trembling.
“Well… I can’t be…becau…”
“Are you in love with Nathan?” Alex forced the question out, gathering every ounce of courage he had.
“What?” Lucas gasped, caught completely off guard. “No!” The word came out too loud; he quickly lowered his voice. “No, Alex. I’m not in love with anyone. I can’t fall in love with…”
“Who told you that?” Alex asked quickly. “Is it your dad?”
“No. It’s me,” Lucas said, voice breaking, confusion flooding in. “I can’t…”
“Lucas,” Alex said gently but firmly, “please calm down. Are you scared of love?”
Lucas couldn’t answer. Fear knotted in his chest, sharp and familiar—fear rooted in the secret he carried, the one that made love feel dangerous. Tears blurred his vision as he stayed silent, gripping the phone like it was the only thing holding him together.
Alex grew restless, worry creeping into his chest. He didn’t understand what was going on but he wished he were there. Right there. Holding Lucas, pulling him close, whispering into his ear that it was okay… that he didn’t have to be afraid. Finding his voice again he talked gently.
“Lucas, are you alright? Should I come over?” Alex asked as he stood up and stepped out of the bathtub, already cleaning his body with a towel.
Lucas tried to control his voice before replying, “I'm alright. No need to come over.”
“My Lucas, are you sure you’re alright?” Alex asked again, worry threading through his voice.
Lucas took a slow breath before answering. “Yes… my Alex. I’m alright. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay? Goodnight.”
“Okay,” Alex whispered, holding the phone tighter. “Goodnight, my Lucas.”
The call ended, but Alex didn’t move. He stared at the dark ceiling, unease gnawing at him. Something was wrong—deeply wrong. People didn’t just refuse love without a reason. He could feel it in his bones: Lucas felt something for him too. And whatever fear was holding him back, Alex was determined to help him face it. Nothing, absolutely nothing would make him let go.
Lucas remained curled around his phone long after the line went dead. He wanted…he ached to keep listening to Alex’s voice, to let it calm the storm inside him. But he knew that would only make things worse, make the feelings swell beyond control. With trembling fingers, he ended the call for good and whispered into the quiet bathroom, “Goodnight, my Alex.”
That night sleep refused them both. The hours crawled by, restless and heavy, until the faint hint of dawn crept in. Lucas finally stirred when his alarm went off—thankfully, work demanded discipline even when his heart was in chaos. He dragged himself up, exhaustion clinging to him.
Alex, on the other hand, arrived late to work but it didn’t matter.
After all, he was the boss.
That morning, the kitchen buzzed with early energy. Lucas arrived early and tried to be calm, focused and determined to prove himself again that he belonged to the kitchen. He tied his apron, greeted a few coworkers, and moved to his station.
Somehow something felt off. He kept feeling a cold chill around him. He lifted the stock pot, frowned slightly, and sniffed. It smelled fine. It looked fine. He shrugged it off and set it on the burner.
As the heat rose, the texture shifted strangely, too fast, too uneven.
Lucas stirred, brows knitting. “That’s weird, this is not turning out right.” He whispered worriedly.
Across the kitchen, Zenith watched from the shadows in silence and patience. Wicked smirk curling his lips.
Lucas adjusted the flame, tasted carefully and froze.”What the heck is happening? This isn't the right outcome.” He whispered in confusion.
A bead of sweat rolled down his temple as he reached for his knife to prep garnish—
The handle shifted. Lucas sucked in a sharp breath as the blade slipped in his grip, nicking his palm. “Oh shit., " he muttered.
“Lucas!” someone shouted on seeing what happened. Blood dotted the cutting board.
Zenith stepped forward immediately, fake concern plastered across his face. “Careful!” he said loudly. “You’re distracted today.”
Heads turned. Murmurs rose.
Lucas stared at his hand, confusion warring with shock. “The knife…it's not in…”
“Accidents happen,” Zenith said smoothly, echoing his own words from the day before. “Maybe you should step back before you hurt yourself more.”
Lucas’s chest tightened.
This wasn’t nerves. This wasn’t pressure. Something had been tampered with. The sauce wasn't right, nor was the knife.
Meanwhile, somewhere above the clatter of the kitchen, Alex was walking down the corridor toward the very chaos Zenith had just unleashed.
The words echoed in Lucas’s head. “Accidents happen.”
Slowly, deliberately, Lucas lifted his gaze from his bleeding palm to Zenith’s face. “No, this is not an accident,” he said, almost in a scream.
The kitchen noise seemed to dim around them.
Zenith blinked. “Excuse me?” he said, his confusion palpable.
Lucas wrapped his injured hand in a towel, his jaw tight, eyes sharp now, clearer than they had been all morning. He turned off the burner.
“‘Accident happened’, you said that yesterday. After you knocked my elbow. After the sauce was ruined. Zenith, what have you done again?”
Zenith’s smile twitched. “You’re imagining things. You’re shaken…”
“I’m not,” Lucas cut in, stepping closer despite the sting in his hand.
“This knife was fine yesterday, I dropped it myself. The stock was fine yesterday. And how I'm sure you were not here last night after service.”
A hush rippled outward.
Zenith’s eyes darkened. “Careful Lucas,” he warned softly. “You’re accusing a senior staff member wrongly.”
Lucas’s heart hammered in his chest, but he didn’t back down. “I’m accusing someone who thinks he can hide behind the word accident.”
Zenith laughed lightly, but it sounded brittle. “This is what pressure does to people, Alex’s golden boy. You crack and start pointing fingers.”
That did it, as Lucas became more annoying and sure about the whole situation.
“You told me to be careful,” Lucas said quietly. “I was careful. That’s why I noticed.”
Zenith leaned in, voice low and venomous. “You should’ve kept your head down.”
“Step away from him.” The command landed like thunder.
Both of them turned in unison, eyes locking on him.
Alex stood at the edge of the kitchen. Silence slammed down hard. His eyes moved first to Lucas’s hand as blood seeped through the towel, then to the knife on the counter, then to the stock pot still simmering oddly. His expression sharpened instantly.
“What happened?” Alex asked, voice deadly calm.
Zenith opened his mouth. “He lost focus—”
Alex didn’t even look at him. “Lucas.”
“The knife slipped,” Lucas said steadily. “Because the grip was loose. And the stock has been altered. I believe someone tampered with my station”
A collective gasp swept through the kitchen.
Alex picked up the knife, tested the handle once. It wobbled.
He set it down slowly.
Then he lifted the stock pot, sniffed, dipped a spoon, tasted and immediately spat it into the sink.
“Damn it, this is not fucking right,” he said angrily.
His gaze lifted at last and locked onto Zenith suspiciously.
“Explain.”