ADRIAN'S POV We sat around the polished mahogany table, the seriousness was palpable. Damien, ever the reassuring presence, sat beside me. Across from us, Mr. Harrison, our lawyer, a man whose calm demeanor usually put me at ease, was now radiating a focused intensity. Beside him, Mr. Harding, the private investigator, a man who dealt in shadows, kept his gaze sharp and unwavering. We were strategizing for a war I never wanted to fight, a war with my own family."Adrian," Mr. Harrison began, his voice cutting through the tension, "as we've discussed, your position is legally sound. The will is airtight, and the law is on your side. However, we need to prepare for every eventuality."He was referring to Delilah, my stepmother, and Brent, my stepbrother. They’d slithered back into my life like the vipers they were, demanding half of everything my father had left me. Years of silence, years of no contact, shattered in an instant with their audacious claim.I sighed, running a hand throu
ADRIAN'S POV Suddenly, sirens wailed in the distance. The police were coming. "We have to go," Delilah hissed at Brent, her voice shaking. "Now!" Brent looked confused, but Delilah grabbed his arm and dragged him towards their car. He hesitated for a moment, glancing back at me, the ice pick still poised against my neck. "This isn't over, Adrian," he growled. "You haven’t seen the last of us." With that, they scrambled into their car and sped out of the parking lot, leaving me trembling in their wake. Damien rushed to my side, his face etched with concern. "Adrian! Are you okay? Let me see that cut." I nodded, pressing my hand against my neck. "Yeah, I think so. Just a scratch." He examined the wound, his expression grim. "That needs stitches. Let's get you to the emergency room." As we waited for the police to arrive, Damien put his arm around me, pulling me close. "I'm so glad you're okay," he murmured. "Me too," I said, leaning into him. "Thank you, Damien. You saved my li
DAMIEN'S POVIt had been two weeks since the drama with Adrian's stepmother and stepbrother had died down, and things were finally getting back to normal. Adrian and I were busy attending to our patients, and it was now Friday night, which meant it was time for my after-hours sessions. It’s a delicate dance, balancing professionalism with the...intimate nature of the help I provide.Footsteps echoed down the hall towards my office. Two knocks on the door. Sienna, our clinic's secretary, and Adrian, my best friend, had already left for the weekend. It was just me and the night ahead. "Come in," I said, my voice even and calm.The door swung open, and Sandra stood there, framed in the doorway. She wore a simple, form-fitting red dress that screamed innocence against the backdrop of the dimly lit hallway. She looked shy, almost fragile."Please, have a seat," I gestured to the chair opposite my desk.She moved with a hesitant grace, settling into the chair like she was afraid it might d
DAMIEN'S POVShe tried to deep throated me again and again, the sensation was overwhelming. She slid her wet flexible tongue to my cock while thrusting it in and out her mouth.The wetness and warmness of her mouth engulfing me fully was unbearable, I instantly feel my cock pulsated and throbbed inside it. The tingling sensation of my cock going in and out of her mouth swirled in. I guide her head and push it down to go deeper and swallow me fully inside her mouth.The room filled with the sounds of her gasps, her moans, the wet sounds of slurping and gagging. She continued to work on me, her pace changes from slow and deliberate at first, gradually building in intensity. She also started to explore every part of my surrounding area of my cock . She played with my balls, softly squeezing and caressing them, using her hands to fondle them one by one before bringing me back to the main show. I was impressed with her progress and continued to give her instructions on how to improve.I fe
ADRIAN'S POVThe question hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable. "So, you were Damien's client tonight? Is the session finished, then?" I hadn't meant to blurt it out, the words escaping before I could fully process the cocktail of anxiety and curiosity swirling inside me.Sandra blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. Her hesitation was a neon sign screaming confirmation. "What... what do you mean?" she stammered, clearly trying to deflect.I chuckled, a hollow, mirthless sound. "Look, there's no need to hide it from me. I told you I worked at the clinic. I'm aware of what's happening there every Tuesday and Friday night." My voice was deliberately casual, but inside, my stomach was twisting itself into knots.Relief seemed to wash over her, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Yes," she admitted. "I was Dr. Damien's client for the night."I forced a smile, a brittle thing that felt more like a grimace. A pang of something akin to jealousy, laced with a sharp, stinging pa
ADRIAN'S POV The world swam back into a blurry, painful existence. My head throbbed with a relentless, pounding rhythm, each pulse a white-hot flash behind my eyes. The metallic tang of blood filled my nostrils, and the asphalt scraped against my cheek. I was lying on the cold, unforgiving ground of the gym's parking lot, my vision a hazy mess of distorted shapes and smeared light.A harsh, mocking laugh sliced through the fog in my brain. "Oh, Doctor, you're already down? Come on, stand up, fight me!"My tongue felt thick and unresponsive as I forced out a slurred question. "Who... who are you? Why are you doing this?"The sound of heavy footsteps approached, each one sending a jolt of pain through my skull. It crunched closer. A sharp, agonizing pain erupted in my abdomen. I gasped, curling into a fetal position, trying to escape the torment. The tip of something hard and unyielding – the baseball bat, I realized – had just been jammed into my gut. I instinctively tried to crawl aw
DAMIEN'S POV The burn in my muscles was a welcome distraction. Another set done, I scanned the familiar space of Spartan Fitness. Where was he? Adrian. He was always here, pushing me, spotting me, making some ridiculous joke about protein shakes. It’s been almost two months since he abandoned our shared gym. Two months since I last saw his goofy grin across the bench press. I still didn't get it. Eight years, we’d sweated and strained together in this place. I still didn't know the real reason behind his departure. He mumbled something about needing a "change of scenery" and "new challenges," but his eyes told a different story, a story he wasn't ready to share with me. Or maybe he was, and I was just too blind to see it. Bullshit. It felt like a betrayal, a tear in the fabric of our routine. I swallowed my frustration, I told myself it was a good thing, a chance for us both to grow individually. A noble thought, but it felt hollow. The shower was a temporary solace. Hot water poun
ADRIAN'S POVAfter what felt like an eternity, I finally blinked my eyes open, trying to focus. . It felt like I’d been out for days, though the clock on the wall suggested it had only been a few hours. My eyelids felt incredibly heavy, the after-effects of the anesthesia still lingering. I woken up in fits and starts before, but my vision had always been hazy like looking through a fogged-up window, glimpses of blurry faces and muted sounds . This time, though, the first thing I saw was a crisp, white ceiling – unmistakably a hospital.My body felt like a lead weight, every muscle screaming in protest. I was sore and battered, a painful reminder of what had happened. A dull throb pounded in my head. Tentatively, I reached up and touched the bandages wrapped around my forehead. My right hand felt restricted, then I noticed the IV drip snaking its way into my vein. I tried to sit up, but a sharp, searing pain shot through my abdomen, instantly reminding me of the two stabs that had nea
ADRIAN'S POVThe comments exploded. Speculation ran rampant. "Who was the lucky woman? ""Was it a celebrity? ""A fellow doctor?"They had no idea."That's all I'm saying for now," I announced, cutting off the inevitable flood of follow-up questions. "Let's move on to something else."None of them knew that the song was for Damien. My best friend. My confidant. The man who had been by my side through thick and thin, through medical school, through failed relationships, through every single triumph and disaster life had thrown my way.The man I was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with.The lyrics weren't just about gratitude. They were about love. Unspoken, unrequited, simmering beneath the surface for years. The "secrets I keep" weren't just secrets. They were the agonizing words I could never bring myself to say, the confession I feared would shatter our friendship.I hope he wasn't watching the stream right now, but maybe he was laughing along with everyone else, oblivious to the
ADRIAN'S POV "’Are you single, Adrian?’" I read aloud, a grin spreading across my face. "Well, that's a popular question! And the answer is..." I paused for dramatic effect, knowing I was being a tease. "It's complicated." The comments exploded. Even behind the screen, I could feel the collective gasp and flurry of fingers typing. "Complicated... how?" "Who is it, Coach Adrian?" "Spill the tea!" I chuckled. "Okay, okay, I'll elaborate a little. There's someone... someone I care about deeply. Someone who's incredibly important to me. But the nature of our relationship… is not easily defined." I knew I was dancing around the truth, but revealing my feelings for Damien to thousands of strangers online felt like a betrayal, a violation of something sacred. My feelings for Damien were complex, a tangled web of love, admiration, and a deep-seated fear of ruining everything. He was my best friend, my protector, the closest thing I had to the family. He had rescued me from a l
ADRIAN'S POV"Where the fuck have you been, Adrian?"Damien's voice sliced through my bedroom silence like a shard of ice. I froze, rooted to the spot just inside the doorway. The air, thick with unspoken tension, crackled around me. Guilt, sharp and immediate, constricted my chest. I’d screwed up. Big time.Damien was sitting on the couch across from my room, bathed in the harsh glow of the city lights filtering through the panoramic windows. His silhouette was all sharp angles and controlled fury. He looked every inch the powerful, intimidating man he was.I snuck out. Plain and simple. Damien had an after-hours session and was having fun with his female clients. I'd been restless, cooped up in this opulent cage for what felt like an eternity. So, I’d craved a taste of normalcy, a night out, a fleeting glimpse of the life I used to have. Liberating's promises of good music and even better company had been too tempting to resist.The problem? I’d lost track of time. I was supposed to
ADRIAN'S POVIt's been two days since I was discharged from the hospital. I just got home from work at the clinic. I looked at the clock and it was almost 6:00 PM. The penthouse felt empty, silent, and lifeless. A part of me wondered if we had house staff, maybe I'd have someone to talk to when Damien isn't home.Another part of me felt blessed because I have private time with Damien when he's around. I didn't really know what to feel. It's Tuesday evening, which means Damien won't be home until at least 9:00 PM. I confirmed with Sienna that Damien did indeed have an after-hours session tonight.Right. Another woman would experience the focused intensity of his gaze, the warmth of his touch, the practiced charm that had somehow, inexplicably, been directed at me long enough for me to fall… well, for all this.I cursed myself. Two days out of the hospital, and I was already sinking back into the familiar pit of anxiety and resentment. By now, I should be numb to the thought of Damien
DAMIEN'S POVIt was Tuesday evening, the hands on my office clock inching closer to the hour when the real theatrics began. Five minutes. Just enough time for the knot in my stomach to tighten another notch. My fingers drummed a restless rhythm on the mahogany desk, a subconscious counterpoint to the sterile professionalism I was forcing myself to maintain.They were here. I could hear the distinct sound of two sets of footsteps approaching my door. The Lacrosse. Clients, technically.I straightened in my chair, plastering on the practiced, empathetic expression I reserved for these after-hours sessions. The door swung inward, revealing a man and a woman framed in the doorway. He, all sharp angles and forced charm. She, a study in nervous tension."Mr. and Mrs. Lacrosse," I said, my voice a calm, even baritone. "Come in, have a seat." I gestured to the plush chairs facing my desk.The man, Ryan Lacrosse, extended a hand, his smile wide and, I suspected, entirely disingenuous. "Hello
ADRIAN'S POVAfter Selena and Grandpa Alex visit, I decided to distract myself by watching a movie. My eyes were glued to the television, lost in the world of a sci-fi epic. Explosions, spaceships, alien landscapes – anything to keep the real world at bay.The movie was reaching its climax, the lead characters making a last stand against the overwhelming forces of the villain. Just as the final battle began, the door to my hospital room swung open with a bang. I jolted, my heart leaping into my throat.I looked up, shocked, to see Damien striding towards me, his face a mask of disapproval. He glanced from my face to the television screen, and then, without a word, reached for the remote and switched it off."What the… Damien! It was the most important part!" I shrieked, frustration bubbling inside me.He glared down at me, his gaze sharp and intense. "When I told you to stay in the hospital, Adrian, I meant for you to rest, not tire yourself out watching movies like you're at home.""
DAMIEN'S POVThe exhaustion clung to me like a second skin. Consulting with patients all morning, navigating their needs, always took its toll. I rubbed my temples, a familiar ache blooming behind my eyes. A quick bathroom break was all I needed, a momentary escape before diving back into the paperwork. I leaned back in my swivel chair, massaging my temples, trying to knead away the building tension. A few stretches did little to alleviate the stiffness from hours of sitting. I glanced outside my office door. Adrian’s office door was closed. The clinic felt strangely muted, hollow without the sound of his enthusiastic, booming voice. It was already lunchtime, and usually, by this time, Adrian would cheerfully barge in, a whirlwind of energy, asking for my lunch order. "The usual, Damien?" he'd always ask, a mischievous glint in his eyes. I missed that small ritual, that little burst of sunshine.I hastened my bathroom break, hoping maybe Adrian would be back by the time I returned.
ADRIAN'S POV I slowly opened my eyes, wincing at the pain that still lingered in my body. Every muscle screamed with protest with each tiny movement I made. It was already Monday morning, just a day after I was attacked by Jace in the gym's parking lot.Honestly, a part of me couldn't entirely blame Jace, even with the throbbing pain in my side. Jace had thought I was Damien, and his jealousy had gotten the better of him. I had given Sandra a ride to the bus stop, an innocent act born out of simple human decency, which had led to the confusion. While I couldn't blame Jace for his actions, I did condemn the way he dealt with his jealousy issues, especially considering he was the one who broken Sandra's heart by cheating on her in the first place. With her best friend, no less. Disgusting.As I lay in my inclined bed, I tried to shift positions, but the doctor's advice to refrain from too much sitting echoed in my mind. The stress on my newly stitched stab wounds was still a concern. I
DAMIEN'S POV Adrian lay in the hospital bed, pale and still, a stark contrast to the vibrant, energetic man I knew. I watched him, guilt gnawing at me. Just a few minutes ago, I tentatively asked him if he remembered who had attacked him in the gym parking lot. His reaction had been… strange. Not anger, not fear, but a flinching, almost physical recoiling, like he was trying to escape a memory. I chalked it up to trauma, to the lingering shock of the attack. But deep down, a knot of unease tightened in my stomach. Something felt wrong. After texting Sienna, to cancel Adrian's appointments and inform his patients about his hospitalization, I was back at his side. He is awake. I was peeling an apple for him, the crisp scent filling the sterile air, when he spoke, his voice was raspy. "You know I can eat that apple with the skin on, right? You don't need to peel it," he chuckled, a weak, breathy sound. "Don't be a spoilsport," I replied, trying to mask the worry in my voice. "Just le