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The screen went black as the call ended. Mateo shut his laptop with a soft click, leaning back in his chair. His shoulders sagged just a little, and he let out a long breath, a low phew slipping past his lips.

The sound carried across the quiet suite.

On the bed, Silas lay perfectly still faking sleep. But inside, his thoughts were chaos.

That sigh… His heart squeezed. God, he’s so damn hot and sexy when he does that. Like the weight of the world finally slides off him the second no one’s looking.

His fingers curled against the sheets, fighting the urge to roll over, to peek, to say something. Instead, he stayed still, fake asleep, swallowing down the ache in his throat.

I’m jealous, I’m mad, I’m all over the place—but even now… even now all I want is his touch. Just crawl into bed, Woods. Please. Just once. Don’t leave me incomplete again.

Silas shifted under the covers, lips parting in the faintest whimper. He pulled the blanket higher, letting his body tremble in the smallest, most believable shivers.

Yeah… that’ll do it, he thought wickedly. If he won’t come near me on his own, I’ll drag him in with worry. Sorry, Woods—you’re not escaping my touch today.

He gave a soft cough, low and pitiful, then let out a shaky breath like it hurt to exhale. His lashes fluttered, his face angled just enough to catch the light, pale and fragile.

The scrape of a chair startled him. Mateo was already moving, crossing the room fast.

“Silas?” His voice was sharp, but laced with concern. He crouched at the bedside, palm brushing against Silas’s forehead. “Gees—you’re burning up. Are you okay?”

Silas let his eyes open just a crack, lips trembling in a weak smile. “I… I don’t know. I feel… so cold.” He shivered harder, leaning into that warm hand, drinking it in.

Mateo cursed under his breath, already standing. “Stay right here. I’ll get the medics. One minute—”

Silas’s eyes widened. Shit. No, no, no, that’s not part of the plan!

He reached out quickly, catching Mateo’s wrist with a trembling hand, his voice cracking just right. “N-no… don’t leave me. Just… stay. Please. Just stay.”

Mateo froze, staring down at him, his chest rising fast.

Silas’s heart skipped. Got you.

Silas cuddled deeper into the blanket, wide doe eyes peeking up at Mateo through his lashes. His fingers still clung to Mateo’s wrist, squeezing softly like a needy boyfriend afraid to be let go.

He let out the tiniest sigh, tilting his head so his hair fell over his face just right. “You’re warm…” he whispered, voice barely above a breath, nuzzling closer to Mateo’s hand like a kitten begging for affection.

Mateo stiffened, jaw tight, trying so hard to keep that mask of indifference in place. “You’re delirious,” he muttered, trying to tug his hand back. “Stop clinging.”

But Silas only made a soft whimper and clutched tighter, eyes shimmering with mischief beneath the fake vulnerability. “Mm, don’t be mean. You said you’d stay… and I like it when you stay.” He gave him the smallest, cheeky smile. “Feels like you’re my boyfriend or something.”

Mateo cursed inwardly, averting his gaze, because damn it—his little troublemaker was too cute for his own good. His ears betrayed him, flushing red despite his perfectly calm tone. “You’re impossible,” he said flatly.

Silas giggled, the sound light and boyish, snuggling against his arm. “Impossible, but adorable.”

Mateo shut his eyes, exhaling slow. He’s going to be the death of me.

Silas tugged lightly at Mateo’s sleeve, blinking up at him with those wide, pleading eyes. His voice was soft, hoarse with his fake sickness. “Tell me a story… just one. I’ll feel better if you do.”

Mateo froze mid-step, his hand still resting on the back of the chair. His instinct was to dodge, to escape this trap. He cleared his throat, straightening. “You don’t need a story. What you need is your medicine. I’ll get it. After that, maybe a bath to cool you down.”

Silas pouted, lower lip jutting out in a way that made his face look heartbreakingly young and unfairly irresistible. “That’s boring… I don’t want pills or baths. I want you. Just sit and talk to me for once, Mateo. Please.”

Mateo exhaled through his nose, as if bracing himself against a storm. He tried to harden his voice, keep it practical. “You’ll recover faster if you stop acting spoiled.”

But Silas’s hand stayed wrapped around his wrist, grip warm, desperate, a silent plea that tugged harder than words.

Mateo cursed under his breath, dragging a palm down his face. He’s not going to let me leave, is he?

Silas smiled faintly, seeing his chance, and whispered, “One story. Then I’ll take all the meds you want.”

Mateo shot him a sideways glare—sharp, dangerous—but his chest tightened anyway. Damn brat knows exactly how to corner me.

A knock broke the charged silence.

Mateo straightened immediately, slipping his wrist from Silas’s grip. “Come in.”

The door eased open, and a tall, handsome butler stepped in—polished uniform, sharp jaw, and a tray balanced neatly in hand. “Here, Mr. Woods. The medication you requested.”

“Thank you,” Mateo said, taking the tray from him. His tone was clipped, and controlled, but then—just barely—he added, “Efficient as always.”

Silas’s stomach knotted. Mateo rarely gave compliments—hell, he barely gave him remarks beyond cold indifference. And now, in front of him, the butler got an ‘efficient as always’ with that calm approval in his voice?

Silas glared, puffing his cheeks slightly under the blanket. “Hmph.”

Mateo noticed, of course. The corner of his mouth almost twitched, but he kept his composure, glancing at Silas out of the corner of his eye. Good. Let him stew a little.

The butler bowed politely. “Shall I prepare tea for you as well, sir?”

Mateo’s lips curved, just barely. “Yes. Make it strong. You know how I like it.”

Silas’s heart practically combusted. Oh, now he has time to explain how he likes his tea?! But when I asked for a story, suddenly it’s all medicine and baths.

He flopped back dramatically on the bed, muffling a groan into the pillow. “I really am sick, but sure, let’s flirt with Mr. Butler instead…”

Mateo didn’t even look at him—he just hummed in acknowledgment, hiding the quiet satisfaction glittering in his eyes.