The sleek black sedan drove into the underground parking of the luxurious penthouse building. Sylvain stepped out of the car on slightly unsteady legs,he nodded once at the driver before heading toward the private elevator.
The doors opened, and he stepped inside, pressing the button for the top floor. A few seconds later, the elevator chimed softly and opened directly into the expansive penthouse.
The moment Sylvain walked out, the familiar scent of the place hit him. It was the same space where Silas had locked him away, the same walls that had witnessed his growing humiliation. Memories flooded back unbidden: the feel of Silas's hard cock in his hand, the low guttural sounds of release, the casual way Silas had dismissed him afterward.
Sylvain shuddered violently, wrapping his arms around himself as if to ward off the phantom touch.
"Why is he not back yet?" he muttered to himself, voice barely above a whisper. The silence of the penthouse felt oppressive, amplifying every small sound.
He wandered into the vast, modern kitchen, hoping to distract himself with something simple. His brother Leon was different—Leon could whip up decent meals without much effort. Sylvain, on the other hand, had always relied on staff or quick takeout in his previous life.
All he could reliably manage was boiled eggs and toast. He opened the massive stainless-steel refrigerator and stared at the array of fresh ingredients. The sheer variety left him puzzled and overwhelmed.
"Hmmm, maybe I should cook some noodles," he said aloud, scratching the back of his head. He grabbed a couple of eggs out of habit, then closed the fridge and began searching the cupboards.
Luck was on his side—he found several packs of premium ramen tucked away on a high shelf. He pulled out two packets, deciding that would have to do.
Sylvain placed a large pot on the induction cooktop and filled it with just enough water. He turned the heat on and waited. A minute later, small bubbles began rising as the water warmed. He tore open the ramen packets, dropped the noodles into the pot, and immediately sprinkled in the seasoning sachets. The rich, savory aroma started to fill the kitchen as he stirred gently with a wooden spoon.
While the noodles cooked, he filled the electric kettle and switched it on to prepare a hot chocolate for himself—something comforting to chase away the anxiety in his chest.
Once the water boiled, he poured it into a mug, stirred in the rich cocoa powder and a splash of milk, and watched the dark liquid swirl into creamy perfection.
Suddenly, a sharp, acrid smell hit his nose. "What is burning?" Sylvain sniffed the air, trying to trace the source. Realization struck him like a slap. He had completely forgotten about the noodles.
He rushed back to the cooktop in a panic, frantically turning off the heat. When he lifted the lid, disappointment and fear washed over him. Parts of the noodles had stuck to the bottom and burned, turning dark and crispy. The rest looked salvageable but carried a faint smoky scent. Heart racing, he quickly scooped the unburnt portion into a bowl, discarding the ruined bits. He washed the pot hastily, scrubbing away the evidence as best he could.
His mind raced with worst-case scenarios. What if Silas comes back and smells this? What kind of punishment will he think of? The thought made his stomach twist. Silas had already proven how easily he could dominate and humiliate him.
Sylvain opened several windows, waving his hands desperately to fan the burnt smell out into the night air. In his haste, he completely forgot about the eggs he had taken out earlier.
Once he convinced himself the odor had mostly dissipated, Sylvain carried the bowl of slightly overcooked ramen and the mug of hot chocolate to the dining table. He sat down, staring at the simple meal with little appetite. He sniffed the air again, still paranoid that the scent of burnt ramen still lingereds.
Every small sound in the penthouse made him tense—afraid of Silas's return, afraid of his touch, even afraid of the sound of his breathing. The man had somehow become the center of every fear and unwanted sensation in Sylvain's life.
He rested his head on the cool surface of the dining table, thoughts drifting back to the brief conversation with his brother earlier that day. Leon's worried face, the promise Sylvain had made… it all felt so fragile.
His eyelids grew heavy, the exhaustion of the long, emotionally draining day finally catching up. Gradually, he drifted into an uneasy sleep, head pillowed on his arms beside the now-cooling ramen and chocolate.
Meanwhile, across the city, another sleek sedan pulled up to the towering Vane International Building. Silas stepped out with his usual commanding grace, adjusting his suit jacket as he strode toward the private elevator. It carried him straight to the highest floor without stopping. When the doors opened, he walked into his spacious office, only to find an unexpected visitor waiting.
An older woman with elegant posture and perfectly styled silver-streaked hair sat comfortably on the leather couch near the windows. She looked up as he entered, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
"Mother," Silas said evenly, moving behind his massive desk and lowering himself into the high-backed chair. "How may I help you?"
The woman adjusted the sleeve of her designer blouse with deliberate grace. "Do you mean I can't visit my own son without an agenda?"
Silas's mouth twitched into a small smile—genuine, almost warm, the kind of expression Sylvain had never once witnessed on his face. "You never visit me without asking me to do something. So, what is it this time?"
"Well, you should already know why I'm here." She chuckled softly, the sound light but pointed. "Any luck in finding your missing rib yet?"
Silas's mind instantly drifted to Sylvain's face—the trembling hands, the defiant eyes.
The memory sent a dark thrill through him, but he quickly pulled himself back to the present. "None so far. Maybe soon. Who knows?"
An exclamation of delight escaped his mother's lips. "Perfect. One of my close friends has a daughter who will be returning soon. She's an actress—a truly beautiful one at that and her parents are extremely wealthy. Well-connected too."
She paused for dramatic effect, eyes sparkling with mischief. "So, if you have any girl you are secretly seeing, you had better bring her to me this week. Otherwise, I will arrange for you to marry my friend's daughter."
"Mummy, why would you do that? I said—" Silas tried to interject, a rare note of protest in his voice.
"I have given you my ultimatum," she cut in firmly, rising from the couch with graceful authority. "Only this week. Bring your desired lady to me, or prepare to meet the girl I have chosen." She walked toward the door without looking back.
A heavy sigh escaped Silas's lips as he watched her leave. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple briefly before picking up his phone. He dialed a number and waited for the call to connect.
"Is he at home now?" Silas asked, voice low and commanding. He listened for a moment, then added, "Alright. Watch him closely and don't allow him to leave your sight."
He ended the call and set the phone down, staring out at the glittering city skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows.