Chapter 29: part 2

Chapter 29: part 2
Eliasj

They were hustled out a side entrance, but the relative darkness offered no real escape. Paparazzi materialized like cockroaches, swarming the narrow alley. Flashbulbs detonated like a barrage of tiny landmines, blinding white stabs of light. Shouted questions crashed over them – about the Board, favoritism, sex, ethics, betrayal, the explosive interview – a cacophony of greed and intrusion.

Noah’s hand found his again in the chaotic scrum of security and flashing lights. His grip was tight, anchoring. Elias gripped back just as fiercely. He didn’t let go. Not when a burly security guard shouldered a path forward. Not when a microphone was thrust towards Noah’s face. Not even when one particularly aggressive voice, thick with leering implication, shouted over the din: "IS HE WORTH IT, MR. VOSS?! ALL THIS? IS HE WORTH THE SCANDAL?!"

Elias stopped. Just for a fraction of a second. He turned his head, not fully, but enough. His eyes, cold fury barely contained, locked onto the lens of the camera held by the shouting man. His gaze could have vaporized steel.

"Every damn second," Elias snarled, the words slicing through the noise like a knife. Then he turned back, tightening his grip on Noah’s hand, and pushed forward towards the waiting car.

\---

The heavy doors of the town car slammed shut, sealing them in blessed, soundproofed silence. The engine purred to life, pulling away from the chaotic curb. For a moment, only the muted hum of the city filtered through.

Then Noah exhaled. A long, shuddering release, as if he’d been holding his breath since the moment the red light had blinked on. He slumped back against the leather seat, running a slightly trembling hand through his hair.

"I can’t believe you said that," he muttered, his voice a strange mix of incredulous laughter and horrified groan.

Elias, already loosening his tie with one hand, tilted his head, a ghost of amusement touching his lips. "Which part?"

"The tongue line, Elias!" Noah groaned, the flush returning to his cheeks. "On live television!"

Elias’s mouth curved into a full, unrepentant smirk. "Should I have said ‘throat’ instead?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low, suggestive murmur.

Noah turned crimson, swatting half\-heartedly at Elias’s arm. "Elias!"

"Just being accurate," Elias replied smoothly, utterly unperturbed. He reached out, brushing his knuckles gently, possessively, along the heated curve of Noah’s cheek. His gaze softened, the earlier f
erocity replaced by something infinitely warmer, more profound. "And you’re blushing," he observed, his thumb tracing Noah’s jawline. "And perfect. And mine."