Chapter 23
Where on earth had he turned into such a lunatic? What had happened to him during the time we were apart?
A thousand questions floated through my mind, but I forced myself to ignore them.
We exchanged relatively light conversation as time passed. In less than an hour, Elder returned, stepping lightly out of the elevator.
“There’s a club that holds meetings on Friday evenings,” he said, diving straight into the main point. Elder glanced back and forth between Eugene and me. With a gentle, pleasant smile, he asked, “What shall we do?”
“What do you think?”
This time, Eugene looked at me. I hesitated, my lips twitching slightly as I fell into thought.
I wanted to confirm it—but at the same time, I didn’t.
“Where is it?” I asked carefully after a pause.
“Oh. The ‘Chelix Club,’” Elder replied with a bright smile. His thin, soft smile had something kind about it that put people at ease.
“Shall I take you there?” Elder asked again, this time turning to Eugene.
Eugene kept his eyes fixed on me and shrugged.
“No. This is enough. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Winter, today’s Friday,” Eugene said quietly, gazing down at me.
I straightened my stiff shoulders and looked up at him.
“My husband’s coming home early today,” I lied without blinking.
My tongue ached from how naturally the lie slipped out. I could hardly believe myself.
A shred of pride—and the foolish hope that my husband might still be trustworthy—had moved my lips of their own accord.
I hurriedly stood up after thanking them both.
“I should get going. Thanks for the help.”
Eugene’s calm eyes stayed fixed on me for a moment before he gave a small nod.
“It wasn’t charity,” he said, one corner of his mouth curving upward arrogantly. “We both got something out of it. No need to be too grateful.”
I forced a smile and quickly left his office.
“Are you sure it’s okay to just let her go like that?” Elder tilted his head, watching her retreating back.
Eugene turned away silently, gazing out the large window.
“Never mind that. The answer’s obvious. Just tell me what you found out.”
“You mean, whether the Marquess of Wolfhaze is a member of Chelix?” Elder puffed himself up proudly. “Of course I checked. Who am I? Elder Waltz, the personal aide of the world’s most fastidious CEO!”
Eugene gave him a faint, knowing smile that cut through his arrogance.
“As expected, the Marquess of Wolfhaze isn’t a member. Oh, and they said they’d be delighted to welcome you as one,” Elder added.
Eugene nodded slowly, saying nothing. Elder blinked, confused by his silence—he had expected him to be pleased.
“What’s wrong? Is something bothering you?”
“Well. The game looks too easy. If that’s a problem, I suppose that’s it.”
Clicking his tongue, Eugene straightened up from his chair.
Winter had taken the risk of accepting his terms just to learn about the so-called “Gentlemen’s Club on Fridays.” And yet she’d turned away so easily.
It was she, in fact, who was the unpredictable one—a foolishly upright woman.
Just like back then. She could have simply let go of everything and taken his hand, but she’d clung to what she already held.
Idiot.
That was why it irritated him. For no good reason, Eugene loosened his neatly tied necktie. Then, with a sharp movement, he rose from his seat and walked to the window.
Elder watched the tall silhouette framed by the backlight and shrugged.
He’d been by his side for quite some time, and yet Eugene remained as unreadable as ever.
* * *
Friday, 2 p.m.
After checking the time with his sleeves rolled up, Hayden dismissed his attendant, Ben, early. Ben didn’t question it; he simply set down the car keys and left.
Hayden sat for a while, finishing the remaining paperwork. Before three o’clock, he scrawled his last signature. Grabbing his coat and keys, he left the department store and got behind the wheel himself.
The streets were still light with traffic—perfect timing. Twenty minutes later, new apartment complexes began to line the roadside.
He parked in front of a familiar building. The apartment manager rushed out to take his car keys.
When Hayden stepped into the elevator, the familiar bellboy pressed the button without being told. Soon, the elevator stopped, and the doors slid open.
[8B]
He casually pulled a key from his inside pocket and opened the door.
“Hayden?”
A sweet voice called out from inside. A moment later, Chloe peeked out from behind the doorway, her face lighting up in a bright smile.
“You’re here! I’ve been waiting.”
“Chloe.”
Hayden smiled softly as she threw herself into his arms. His hand slid along the curve of her body beneath the thin dress—warm, soft, familiar.
“How have you been?”
“Awful. I thought I’d die missing you,” she said playfully, her voice tickling his chest.
He kissed her without another word. Her lips were soft and yielding, melting easily under his touch.
What began as a gentle brush of lips deepened quickly, their breaths mingling as the sound of wet kisses filled the quiet apartment.
“Mmm… I made lasagna for you,” she murmured when their lips finally parted, her tone adorably shy.
The woman he loved—cooking for him herself.
“I thought I smelled something delicious,” he chuckled, sliding his hand under her dress without hesitation. Her warm skin met his palm.
“I assumed the scent came from this meal,” he teased before biting gently at her neck.
Chloe laughed, twisting in his arms, her thighs subtly tightening around him in response. Desire pooled low in his gut.
Their mouths met again—hungrier this time. Moist lips and low moans tangled together, their eyes locking through the haze.
So different from his wife, Winter.
Winter was a beautiful woman, yes, but never this honest. She would bite her lip to suppress her voice, foolishly thinking that pleasure was something shameful—so prim, so repressed. Just like his mother.
A fine wife, yes—but not much of a woman.
Her tearful eyes on their wedding night had been beautiful, perhaps, but that was the peak of it.
Her meekness had long since dulled his affection. Inevitably, he sought release elsewhere.
That release had come in the form of Chloe—and that was hardly unexpected. They’d fooled around back in their school days, and she was never one to make a fuss afterward.
She knew her place—and that made everything easier.
Hayden smiled into the crook of her neck as he sank deeper into her warmth.
Beautiful, sweet, uninhibited Chloe.
“Chloe…!”
He called her name as he reached his climax, and she followed close behind, the two of them laughing breathlessly in the afterglow.
Afterward, Hayden helped her dress again, pressing a kiss to her lips. Chloe blushed and laughed softly.
“Now do you feel like having that lasagna?” she asked in a hoarse, teasing voice.
Hayden nodded, and Chloe smiled brightly, tying a white apron over her rumpled dress.
Their time together wasn’t just about the physical. They talked—about daily life, trivial things, sometimes even about Winter.
When he complained about his wife, Chloe’s mood always brightened, so he often exaggerated or made things up.
She’s making my life miserable. I should’ve married someone like you—someone honest and adorable.
He never mentioned class or birth. He couldn’t. Instead, he used words like circumstances, fate, situation—and fate was the one Chloe liked most.
She’d sigh that it was “fate” that kept them apart, and Hayden would tell her to focus on the present before kissing her again.
After they tangled together once more, it would be time to return to reality.
On those days, his heart always cooled as he left—but at the same time, a strange tenderness for Winter would resurface.
Winter, you’re probably at home waiting for me, like always—never knowing what I’ve been doing.
Her foolishness… was somehow endearing.
(To be continued.)
