"Cold Boss Is My Masked Daddy" Chapter 13
Samuel's car waited outside the apartment complex.
Julian stopped dead halfway there.
Absolutely not.
He filmed thirst traps online sometimes. Fine.
That didn't make him insane.
Nobody with a functioning brain wore a thigh chain to work.
He turned around immediately, punched in the code for the security door—
and froze.
His roommate stood outside his bedroom.
Calm. Casual.
"You forget something?"
Julian's shoulders tightened.
"How'd you know I was leaving?"
"Lucky guess."
Too quick.
Julian looked at him for a second.
Didn't answer.
"You going back in?" the roommate asked, stepping aside slightly. "Door's clear."
"No."
Julian turned and walked straight back out.
Something about the guy felt off.
He barely knew any of the roommates anyway.
Agency rental. Separate rooms. Shared kitchen. Everybody minded their own business.
The guy next door worked nights at a bar or something. They'd spoken maybe three times total.
As for the thigh chain—
he'd deal with it later.
Winter coat covered everything.
Probably.
—
Samuel's car sat at the curb.
Dark gray suit today.
One sharp line of white cuff visible beneath the sleeve.
Clean. Controlled.
Julian liked that kind of precision.
Made him feel weirdly safe.
Samuel might've been a corporate vampire, but at least he wasn't creepy.
Julian climbed into the backseat and dropped his bag beside him.
One thing still bothered him.
"How are you here?"
"Came from the airport." Samuel glanced at his phone. "You were nearby."
"Oh."
The car pulled into traffic.
A few minutes later:
"Where are we going?"
"Bid meeting."
Several files landed in Julian's inbox.
"Read the proposal package."
Julian opened them immediately.
The car moved smoothly through traffic.
Small vibrations rolled up through the leather seats.
Normally he wouldn't even notice.
Today every bump dragged the chain higher against the inside of his thigh.
Sharp little pulls every time the car hit uneven pavement.
And sitting made the outline worse.
Faint raised lines showed beneath the fabric of his pants now.
Not obvious.
Still—
not exactly innocent-looking either.
Heat climbed straight into his ears.
Julian tugged his jacket lower.
Didn't help.
Covered the front. Side visible.
Covered the side. Front visible again.
Eventually he dropped the laptop across his knees instead.
Shield.
Problem solved.
Mostly.
The laptop battery flashed red almost immediately.
Of course.
Julian glanced around the car quietly.
No outlet.
Asking Samuel felt bizarrely difficult.
So he lowered the brightness all the way down and kept reading.
The old laptop weighed a ton.
The chain already hurt.
Ten minutes later both legs had gone numb.
Julian shifted slightly.
Left leg.
Right.
Left—
"Julian."
Samuel didn't look up.
"Sit still."
Julian froze instantly.
Five minutes passed.
Then:
"Samuel…"
Julian sounded genuinely miserable.
"My leg fell asleep. Can I move?"
Samuel finally looked up from the documents.
Another filing deadline.
Another stack of revisions.
Another team insisting the materials were final when they obviously weren't.
ADVERTISEMENT
Nobody ever got it right the first time.
Most people didn't get it right the fifth time either.
Across from him, Julian sat stiff as a board, fingers twisted tightly into the hem of his coat.
Eyes slightly red.
Like something small trying very hard not to panic.
"You seem afraid of me."
Julian blinked.
"…What?"
"You can move, Julian."
Samuel closed the file in his hands.
"You don't need permission."
Julian stared at him.
Honestly?
A little annoyed now.
Five seconds ago he'd literally said sit still.
Now suddenly Julian had freedom and bodily autonomy.
Convenient.
Maybe something showed on his face.
Samuel added calmly:
"I asked you to stay quiet. Not tie yourself up."
Julian answered before thinking.
"What's the difference? That's basically the same thing. Don't make noise, don't move—"
Silence.
Oh my god.
What the fuck was he saying?
Tie yourself up?
Don't move?
Too many thirst traps. His brain was permanently damaged.
Julian shut his mouth so fast his teeth clicked.
Samuel looked at him quietly.
"Go on."
Absolutely not.
One more sentence and this conversation was turning into porn.
"In front of me, you're allowed to speak freely," Samuel said.
Small pause.
"As long as it isn't serious."
Julian narrowed his eyes slightly.
"What counts as serious?"
"You'll know."
"……"
Right.
Amazing temper.
A sharp beep interrupted them.
The laptop screen dimmed instantly.
Battery warning.
Great.
Julian glanced around the car again.
Still couldn't find the outlet.
Ask Samuel?
Would that annoy him?
But Samuel literally just said—
"Say it."
Samuel still hadn't looked up.
Julian hesitated another second anyway.
"…Is there a charger port in here?"
"Yes."
Samuel flipped open the center armrest.
Hidden outlet inside.
Julian blinked.
"Oh."
Relief loosened something in his chest immediately.
"Thank you."
The battery percentage crawled upward slowly.
Forty-two.
Forty-three.
That easy.
One sentence.
No disaster.
No irritation.
Maybe he'd judged Samuel unfairly.
Thinking back—
Samuel never actually lost his temper.
Even when Julian screwed something up, Samuel only pointed at the problem. Calm voice. Calm face.
Mostly it was just the pressure of him.
The position. The presence.
Samuel Frost looked at you and suddenly your spine remembered posture.
Maybe that was all.
If Samuel were truly impossible, Asher and Luke wouldn't have stayed this long.
Then why was Samuel still looking at him?
Julian straightened automatically.
"…Did you need something?"
Samuel's gaze dropped briefly toward the laptop balanced across Julian's thighs.
"No."
He looked back down at the documents.
Samuel had noticed the chain the second Julian entered the car.
He chose not to comment.
Employees had private lives. Samuel preferred not to know about them.
Then Julian started visibly suffering through the ride.
That became difficult to ignore.
Normally Samuel would've solved the issue directly.
This wasn't exactly a normal issue.
No version of:
Are you planning to attend a bid meeting wearing a thigh chain?
was ever leaving his mouth.
So instead he spent the drive leaving openings.
Hint after hint.
I'm reasonable.
You can ask.
Julian never did.
ADVERTISEMENT
You May Also Like
-
CompletedChapter 12
Paper Vows, Blood Debts
Rule #1 of corporate warfare: Never sleep with the enemy. Rule #2: Break the rule immediately. Alistair Vance owns New York and São Paulo. He trades in fear, silence, and absolute control. Until Cassia Sterling walks into his office—a razor-sharp executive with smoke-gray eyes, ice in her veins, and a hidden agenda that could ruin him. He thought she was just another corporate spy. She thought he was just another monster in a tailored suit. Locked in a deadly game of chess where every move risks their lives and every touch threatens their sanity, they are about to discover that the most dangerous secrets aren't kept in safes—they're kept in bed.Mutual Pining|Plot Twist|Possessive Love|Sweet Romance13.2k words5 1 -
CompletedChapter 12
The Crippled Billionaire's Replacement Bride
When her ambitious, vain sister refuses to marry the infamous billionaire Killian Thorne after a brutal accident leaves him paralyzed, Lyra Sinclair is dragged from her quiet rural life to take her place as the substitute bride. Cast into a cold, heavily guarded mansion of a man believed to be a bitter monster, everyone expects Lyra to cower. They expect her to break. They don't know who she really is. Armed with an old leather pouch of silver needles and a razor-sharp clinical mind, Lyra looks past the cold glares and the broken legs. She sees a man bound by chemical lies and vicious family betrayal—and she refuses to let him lose. As the silver needles pierce through the agony, a fierce, suffocating chemistry ignites between the cold corporate tyrant and the fearless healer. But when the day of reckoning arrives at the grand high-society gala, the man presumed crippled stands tall before a thousand terrified traitors—ready to reclaim his throne, destroy his enemies, and claim his queen for eternity. He falls first, but he falls harder. And God help anyone who tries to touch his wife.Mutual Pining|Plot Twist|Possessive Love|Love After Marriage|Sweet Romance13.6k words5 2 -
CompletedChapter 11
A Waltz of Scars
"She was stolen from her cradle to rot in the gutter. Now, she’s back with a stiletto in her teeth—and a crown waiting on the throne of the dead." Stolen at age five, Scarlett Thorne survived the brutal underworld by learning one golden rule: never show them where it hurts, bleed them dry instead. When she returns to high society to reclaim her stolen birthright, she expects to face the arrogant ex-fiancé who abandoned her and the fake sister who usurped her life. She didn't expect Liam Vance. The Supremo Alfa of the Night’s Shadow Pack—known to the world as the Butcher King—is a cold, terrifying monster who rules through absolute fear. But the moment his ice-blue eyes lock onto Scarlett’s defiant, emerald-green gaze, a volatile, hyper-aware obsession is ignited. He wants to lock her in a golden cage to keep her safe; she wants to burn his entire empire down. Amidst a high-stakes global conspiracy, betrayals from trusted bloodlines, and a slow-burning, breathless war of wills, these two apex predators must decide whether to destroy each other—or rule the world together. Enemies to lovers. Fated mates. High-heat slow burn. A ruthless alpha who forgets how to breathe without her, and a vengeance queen who takes no prisoners.Mutual Pining|Dark Secrets|Plot Twist|Possessive Love|Sweet Romance11.1k words5 0