His throat tightened. “Sorry,” he murmured, eyes flicking away. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Logan didn’t hesitate. He reached for Adrian’s hand, lacing their fingers together like an anchor. “I know,” he said softly. And with that, they stepped inside the bathroom, and Logan shut the door behind them.
Logan rummaged through the bathroom cabinets, finding a neatly arranged collection of toiletries: new bottles of soap and shampoos, fresh toothbrushes and toothpaste, everything untouched. He figured the cleaning services he hired upon signing had ensured the apartment was stocked with essentials. He made a mental note to thank them, but right now, all that mattered was Adrian.
And then the shower.
What should have been a quick rinse stretched into something else, something slower, something deeper. Their lips found each other between the steam, between the rivulets of water tracing over skin and scars, between the unspoken apologies and the weight of everything they had lost. It was desperate, not just from longing but from time itself, from all the months and miles that had separated them. Hands mapped out what was once familiar, as if trying to remember—no, trying to make sure they never forgot again.
By the time they finally pulled away, breathless and warm, they had lost track of how long they had been in there.
“We have to go,” Logan murmured, even though the last thing he wanted was to leave this room, this moment. He wanted to crawl into bed with Adrian, press close, let sleep take them somewhere softer. But instead, they finished their shower and stepped out.
“My dad’s leaving in a few hours. Flight to Denmark. Business stuff. He could be late since he is taking his private plane, but he wouldn’t.”
Adrian, still towel-drying his hair, gave him a small, tired smile. “Then let’s go.”
He finished pulling on his clothes, and together, they stepped back out into the world.
The drive wasn’t long, but it felt like an eternity. Logan’s grip on the wheel was too tight, his pulse hammering at his throat. The confrontation with his father loomed like an approaching storm, dark and inevitable. But this was exactly why he had to do it, why it had to be now.
Adrian needed to be hospitalized in the morning. Logan wasn’t going to let this moment slip past. It was time to stand his ground.
He reached across the center console, taking Adrian’s hand in his, feeling the warmth of it, the solidity of him. “I’ll show you the city someday,” Logan said, stealing a quick glance before returning his eyes to the road. “I promised you that a long time ago… and I plan to keep that promise.”
Adrian’s fingers tightened around his, his smile a mix of love and sorrow, as if he were holding something fragile between his teeth. “I know,” was all he said, and that was enough.
The iron gates of the Vaughn estate had rolled open, revealing a world so far removed from Adrian’s that it might as well have been another planet.
The private road leading up to the mansion was lined with sculpted trees. On either side of the driveway, marble fountains sprayed arcs of water over sculptures that he could barely make out in the night light.
Adrian glanced out the window and spotted a cluster of smaller homes scattered across the estate. These homes were at least three times the size of his small Tel Aviv apartment, boasting sleek stone, sweeping terraces, and the kind of upscale living that probably included servants and private pools.
The main house stood at the top of the hill, all glass and pale stone, its walls catching the night like mirrors. Light from inside spread in a steady, artificial glow that made the place seem detached from everything around it. It was vast, too much to take in at once. Adrian found himself tracing the memory of the long drive from the gates, the manicured trees, the perfect lawns. Whoever lived like this probably had other estates just like it, scattered across the world, identical in their perfection.
The drive curved into a wide circular court where a black Rolls-Royce waited under the portico. Logan slowed the car and gave a small nod to the driver, who straightened from where he’d been leaning against the car, dressed in a sharp black suit.
Adrian barely registered the soft purr of the engine shutting off. His body had gone rigid, hands gripping his jeans like he was bracing for impact. A stray thought crossed his mind, maybe he should’ve gone shopping first, bought something that looked like it belonged here. Or at least cleaned his shoes before stepping onto that driveway, before walking into a place like this.
Logan stepped out, rounding the car in an easy motion before opening Adrian’s door himself. “Come on,” he said softly.
Adrian forced himself to move.
He had been in a lot of places that made him feel like he didn’t belong: war zones, military bases, foreign cities where he barely spoke the language. But nothing had ever made him feel as small as this place did.
The driveway alone was bigger than the street he lived on.
And God, the sheer perfection of it all. The silence, the faultlessness. In the estate’s impeccably arranged domain, not a single blade of grass dared to be out of line, nor was there any imperfection to sully the pristineatmosphere. He had encountered wealth in various forms, had witnessed opulence, yet this experience transcended all. This was generational wealth, old money woven so deeply into a bloodline that it no longer felt like wealth; it felt like divinity.
His gut twisted.
This world—Logan’s world—wasn’t just wealth. It was an entirely different existence.
The kind where people didn’t ask for things, they simply expected them to appear. If Adrian measured his life in hundreds of shekels, equivalent to about a third of a dollar, those individuals spoke in hundreds of thousands and millions of dollars.
It was a place where money wasn’t just a luxury, it was a force, a weapon, a birthright. It built empires, erased problems before they could even be spoken aloud. It made sure people like Logan never had to fight for anything in their lives, because the world had already surrendered to them before they were even born.
And standing here, beneath the towering columns of the Vaughn estate, Adrian had never felt smaller.
