Chapter 313: When Worry Turned Into Heartbreak

As the realization sank in, that Matteo had willingly handed himself over to the police just hours after promising he would come straight home to him, a sudden, furious wave of disbelief washed over Adrian.

"I am going to kick his ass," Adrian muttered angrily to the empty room, wiping the remaining tears from his face as his worry turned into pure exasperation. "He’d better come back home in one piece... Why the hell would he report himself?!"

Anxiety quickly burned away the anger as the hours slowly ticked by.

Adrian couldn’t sit still. He sat on the edge of the bed, then stood up to pace the length of the bedroom, rushing over to the large floor-to-ceiling windows every few minutes to check if headlights were cutting through the dark driveway. Every single time, the courtyard remained pitch-black and empty.

By the time the clock struck 11:00 PM, Matteo was still nowhere to be seen.

Adrian sank onto the mattress, burying his face in his hands as tears began to spill down his cheeks once more. His mind spun out of control with terrifying thoughts.

What if my father was wrong?

What if they actually locked him up?

What if Owen’s family had reported him?

In a frenzy, Adrian grabbed his phone and dialed Harry’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. He immediately tried Matteo’s number, then Matteo’s bodyguards, one after another. No one answered.

"Why?" Adrian cried, tears streaming down his face. "Why is no one answering? Why hasn’t anyone called to update me? What’s really going on? Somebody, please... answer me!"

He kept calling over and over, refusing to give up, but every attempt ended the same way. The deafening silence only fueled his growing panic.

Midnight came and went, making sleep completely impossible. Adrian lay awake, staring blankly at the ceiling in the quiet room, his chest heavy with fear and anxiety.

It wasn’t until 1:23 a.m. that the distant, heavy rumble of a high-powered convoy echoed through the estate gates.

Adrian’s eyes snapped open. He practically flew out of bed and sprinted to the window, pulling back the heavy curtain to look down. Sure enough, three familiar dark-armored cars pulled into the main courtyard. Matteo was finally home.

Relief flooded Adrian’s veins, but as he remembered the agonizing hours he had spent crying and worrying, his anger flared back up instantly. Pouting hard, he sprinted back to the bed, pulled the duvet up to his chin, closed his eyes, and pretended to be fast asleep.

A few moments later, the bedroom door clicked open.

Matteo stepped inside. From a distance, he saw that Adrian was already asleep, so he moved with quiet, careful stealth, making sure not to wake his lover.

He carefully removed his wristwatch and shoes before unbuttoning his jacket. He shrugged off his suit, unbuckled his belt, and stripped off his clothes until he was wearing only his white boxers.

He turned toward the bathroom to wash off the night’s exhaustion, but paused and glanced at the bed. In the end, he couldn’t resist checking on his sleeping beauty first.

Moving silently, Matteo crept over to the side of the bed. He gently leaned down, closing his eyes as he moved in to press a tender, quiet kiss against Adrian’s forehead before heading into the shower.

Just as his lips were an inch from Adrian’s skin, Adrian’s eyes snapped wide open in the dark.

"Don’t you dare," Adrian hissed.

Matteo flinched in genuine shock, jerking back as his eyes widened.

Adrian threw the duvet aside, sitting up abruptly as his fiery gaze locked onto him. "Where the hell are you coming from?!"

Matteo remained silent, caught completely off guard as he stared at Adrian.

"I’m talking to you!" Adrian snapped. "Where were you?!"

Still, Matteo said nothing.

"Answer me, Matteo!" Adrian demanded, his voice rising with every passing second. "Where the hell have you been?!"

Matteo remained silent, unable to find the right words.

Growing tired of the silence, Adrian swung his legs over the bed and scrambled to his feet. With a huff of frustration, he reared his leg back to kick Matteo right in the ass. But at the last second, Matteo instinctively shifted, causing Adrian’s foot to miss its intended target completely, and land squarely between Matteo’s legs, kicking him hard right in his cock.

Matteo let out a sharp, breathless gasp of pain, doubling over as his hands instinctively flew down to protect himself.

"Fuck... that hurt," Matteo groaned through gritted teeth.

"Oh shit!" Adrian’s anger vanished instantly. Panicking, he rushed over and bent down to check on him.

"Babe! Are you okay?! I didn’t mean to—"

Matteo continued groaning in pain, barely able to respond, completely unaware that Adrian had already noticed something else.

As Adrian leaned closer to help him, he suddenly caught a strong, pungent scent. He froze, then leaned in again for a more deliberate sniff. The unmistakable aroma of expensive whiskey and cigarette smoke clung to Matteo’s skin.

Adrian slowly pulled back. His eyes narrowed into deadly slits, and his jaw tightened.

"Have you..." he asked in a dangerously quiet voice. "Have you been drinking?!"

Matteo closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, his shoulders slumping as he realized the exact trouble he was in. Gosh, I’m dead, he thought, bracing himself.

"Have you been drinking?" Adrian repeated, his tone shifting from fiery anger to something far more serious, deeply pained, and dangerously cold.

Matteo looked at him, his expression softening as he tried to explain. "Babe, listen... after I left the office, I met up with my friends because we had something important to discuss, and—"

"It’s fine," Adrian cut him off flatly, holding up a hand to stop the words.

A heavy, suffocating silence fell between them. Adrian’s eyes began to glisten with fresh, hot tears, his voice trembling as the emotional exhaustion of the night finally broke through.

"I was sitting here out of my mind," he choked out. "I thought you were in danger, Matteo. I thought something terrible had happened to you. But no..." His voice cracked. "You were out there drinking, smoking, and having a good time without even bothering to text me, call me, or answer any of my messages."

A tear rolled down his cheek as he stared at Matteo in disbelief.

Matteo’s expression softened with guilt. "Babe... I’m sorry. I was caught up discussing something important with my friends. I lost track of time. I really didn’t mean to ignore you."

Adrian gave a faint, bitter smile and nodded slowly. "I understand," he said quietly. "The conversation with your friends must have been more important than me."

Matteo opened his mouth to speak, but Adrian shook his head. His eyes dropped to Matteo’s groin, where he had accidentally kicked him. "I’m sorry for kicking you," he murmured. "You should go take your shower... I’m going back to sleep."

Matteo knew Adrian far too well. That sudden calmness wasn’t acceptance, it was heartbreak. Panic instantly flared in his chest.

"Babe, wait. Is everything okay?" he asked urgently, stepping closer. "I’m so sorry, Adrian. I swear I didn’t mean to ignore you. Time just slipped away while I was with my friends. I should have called you. I should have answered your messages. I’m sorry, baby."

Adrian kept his gaze fixed on the bed, his voice quiet and emotionless. "I said I understand, Matteo. It’s fine." He paused briefly. "I just want to sleep now."

Without waiting for a reply, Adrian turned around, climbed back onto the bed, and pulled the heavy duvet all the way up over his head, completely walling himself off.

Matteo stood there in his boxers, utterly bewildered. Because he had no idea Harry had broken protocol and informed Adrian about his arrest, he couldn’t wrap his head around why coming home late after drinking with his inner circle had triggered such a deep, heart-wrenching reaction from his lover.

Assuming it was just the smell of alcohol and cigarettes that bothered him, Matteo leaned over the covered form on the bed, his tone dripping with soft remorse. "I’m sorry for drinking and smoking, baby... I really am."

Under the duvet, Adrian lay rigid, his muffled voice barely audible. "It’s fine. I just want to sleep now."

"Okay, baby," Matteo whispered softly. He gently leaned down, pressing a tender, quiet kiss against the crown of Adrian’s head through the duvet. "I’ll go shower."

The moment the bathroom door clicked shut and the sound of running water filled the suite, the floodgates broke.

Adrian pulled the pillow tight against his face, burying his mouth into the soft fabric to stifle his desperate, agonizing sobs. His whole body shook beneath the covers. He had spent the entire night in utter agony, crying, pacing, pleading with his father, and terrified that the love of his life was locked in a concrete cell, only to find out Matteo was perfectly fine, out partying with his friends.

Worse still, Matteo hadn’t said a single word about the police, the arrest, or his plan.

The realization hit Adrian like a physical blow. He didn’t want me to know, Adrian thought, his heart shattering into a thousand...