BONUS: Part 4

BONUS: Part 4
Magnus Hale Kael

I keep punching the heavy bag, my body drenched in sweat, my chest heaving. In the background, the television fills the silence with the news, but I barely pay attention. It still feels surreal that five years have already passed since Adrian crashed into my life.

Who would have thought that I, Magnus Hale, the former Enforcer, would be living a quiet life alongside a thirty-year-old boy? It’s almost funny… but I like it. I like waking up next to him, cooking, taking care of things, and sharing the day. Honestly, I’ve learned to love this routine.

I admit, when Adrian started college, we barely had any time together. I acted as irritated as a child, missing him all the time. When he graduated—and especially after he was almost stabbed—we went back to savoring every minute with each other.

Sometimes I laugh to myself at my own fragile masculinity. I spent my life being blunt and violent, used to solving everything with force. Now, I cook, I clean the house when boredom strikes, I go grocery shopping… and I realize how sexist I was toward myself. What sense does it make to think that being a man means being incapable of taking care of your own home or treating the person you love well?

Maybe I shouldn't blame myself so much. I was raised believing a man needs to be strong all the time. But with Adrian, it’s different. With him, being affectionate doesn’t make me feel like less of a man. I stay firm when necessary—mostly because if I’m not, this kid is capable of killing anyone who dares to look at me.

My mindset has matured. I want to keep living like this, by his side, caring for him with the same zeal I receive. I’m possessive, yes—not as much as he is, but I am.

I hate that idiot secretary, thinking I didn't notice the way he looked at what belongs to me. I hit the bag harder, imagining his face right there.

Suddenly, a news report on the TV catches my attention.

"The company of President Adrian Hale Kael had an incident this morning. An employee threw himself off the building. Authorities are investigating the case. The man has been identified as Jonas Carter, Secretary to President Kael."

The bastard’s photo appears on the screen. I look up at the ceiling, already feeling a headache coming on, and let out a long sigh.

"What the fuck did you do now, Adrian?"

I leave the training room and head straight upstairs to the bedroom. In the bathroom, already shirtless, I kick off my pants and step under the shower. The cold water runs over my body, washing away the sweat. I wash my hair, my face, and everything as fast as possible, just to try and calm the rage building in my chest.

I turn off the shower and grab a towel. Reaching the sink, I brush my teeth in a hurry, already imagining the scene: that idiot Adrian killing someone as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

How can he act with such casualness? Does he really think his father can protect him from everything? This boy is going to be the death of me.

I spit out the foam and wipe my mouth, trying not to break the mirror. I leave the bathroom and go to the closet, picking out dark pants and a button-down dress shirt to match. I choose casual shoes, put on my watch, spray some cologne, and mess up my hair on purpose—the way Adrian likes it.

I grab my phone and the car keys. I rush down the stairs, cross the foyer, and exit the mansion. I get in the car and start the engine, flooring it as soon as the gate opens. I speed as fast as I can toward his company, my heart pulsing at a dangerous rhythm.

I’m going to kill this kid if he keeps being this reckless; he could very well end up back in prison. He’s famous now; he appears in newspapers, and he needs to guard his image. He can't just go around killing someone just because he got pissed off. If the intention was to eliminate the secretary, he should have done it somewhere without witnesses.

This idiot is going to give me a heart attack from all the stress. There’s no point in arguing—I know he won't change—but I at least want to knock some sense into his head. If you're going to kill, do it away from the public. No witnesses.

When I arrive at the company, I find the press and some police officers on the scene; I sigh. No one seems to be allowed in, so I park across the street, take out my phone, and call him. He answers on the first ring, his voice light.

"Hi, my love."

I hiss, irritated, my response coming out harsh.

"Love? Love my ass, Adrian Hale Kael."

I try to keep my voice low so no one overhears.

"Don't be mad at me, love," he tries to justify. "He provoked me."

"It doesn't matter if he provoked you. You should have settled this away from people, dammit. Do you want to go back to prison?"

I pause, running a hand through my hair, taking a deep breath.

"Of course not. I know you're going to keep eliminating whoever stresses you out," my voice remains hard. "I'm just asking you to do it in a discreet place. Now that you're a known face, do you really think your father is going to be able to protect you? Everyone knows you. Don't be reckless."

On the other end, the silence stretches; then comes his breathing.

"You're right. I jumped the gun. I'm sorry. I got angry because he dared to talk shit," he admits. "He complained about the two of us kissing. He coveted something he couldn't have and paid with his life. I should have handled it somewhere else."

I let out a sigh and feel the tension loosen.

"Fine. Just promise me you won't act on impulse anymore. I don't want my husband going to jail. And even if you do, I'm coming after you," I state firmly. I hear a laugh from the other side.

"I love you. Don't worry, I won't act impulsively again."

"Better be. Where are you? I'm outside," I say, watching the police still cordoning off the scene.

"Coming down. I settled some boring stuff. Can you pick me up in the parking garage?"

I notice the garage entrance is clear.

"I can do that. Heading there now." I end the call, get back in the car, and drive.

I enter the parking garage and notice a few police officers nearby, but they are focused on another spot. The elevator door opens, revealing Adrian. I accelerate and pull up next to him. As soon as he gets in the car, we don't exchange a word; I just hit the gas, moving us away from the building.

"I'm sorry, love," he says, placing his hand on my thigh, caressing it lightly.

I let out a sigh.

"What's done is done. Complaining now doesn't change anything. I just ask that you don't act recklessly."

He leans in and kisses my cheek tenderly.

"I promise, my king."

I give a lopsided smile, running my hand over his leg and returning the gesture.

"That's enough for now. So, where are we having lunch?" I ask, casting a quick glance in his direction.

"I know a restaurant that serves Brazilian food. We can go there."

I nod, a small smile escaping.

"I loved the Brazilian culture."

"I liked it too. I just hated it when we went to the beach and everyone kept staring at you. The urge to kill every single one of them was massive." He furrows his brow, recalling the scene.

I squeeze my hand over his leg, firm.

"Love, put this in that beautiful, crazy head of yours: they can look, they can want, but the only one who can touch me is you. No one else."

The dark glint returns to Adrian's eyes. He suppresses a short laugh, his voice heavy with possession.