It was a revelation to Julian—the idea that a man as formidable and dominant as Samuel could carry such an outlook.

Suddenly, Julian understood the friction he felt whenever Samuel was near. It was a paradox of iron restraint and absolute control.

Julian could feel the gravity of Samuel's need to command, yet the man was never a tyrant. He respected boundaries. 

They were the same, Julian realized. Both of them were experts in the art of endurance.

Julian had learned restraint as a survival mechanism in a suffocating home; Samuel practiced it from a position of absolute power.

With Samuel's background and string of successes, he could have dictated the world around him, yet he chose to operate within a self-imposed cage.

Samuel had told Julian to voice his needs, but were Samuel's own needs ever met?.

Julian felt a sharp, sudden ache in his chest for the man, but he immediately checked the impulse. He had no standing to pity Samuel Frost. He kept his voice level, professional. "So what then? Is the only option to make peace with it?".

"It is the most pragmatic approach," Samuel replied.

Julian watched him for several seconds. A reckless courage flared. "And have you made peace, sir?".

Samuel's obsidian eyes tracked Julian's face. "Don't you think that's a bit intrusive?".

Julian didn't look away. The fear that usually anchored him was gone, replaced by a sharp curiosity. "Are you afraid to answer?".

Samuel let out a short, dry laugh. His right hand rose, his fingers twitching as if to brush Julian's hair, but he stopped mid-air. He diverted the motion, adjusting the knot of his silk tie instead. Julian wondered if that, too, was an act of restraint.

"I compromise on the mundane," Samuel said, his voice dropping into a dangerous register. "But when it comes to my bottom line, I do not yield".

Julian had pondered Samuel's "bottom line" before. The man was a creature of clear boundaries, unlike Julian, whose life was too simple to require such complex defenses.

He wanted to know what those limits were—to avoid crossing them—but he couldn't ask Samuel directly, and cornering Asher for gossip was too transparent. He let the thought go. They were just boss and assistant; there was no reason for their paths to collide so violently.

Two days later, the tailor sent word that the suits were ready. Four sets—two for winter, two for summer—effectively covering Julian's entire professional wardrobe. He tried them on in the shop's dressing room. As he stepped out, he heard a sharp, whispered "Holy shit".

"Sonny?"

Julian turned to see Oliver Frost staring at him, his face pale with shock. Oliver's eyes searched Julian's for a second before he slumped in relief. "Sorry. Wrong person".

"Who is Sonny?" Julian asked.

Oliver looked awkward. "Samuel's brother".

Julian remembered now. The first time Asher had brought him to this shop, it was to stand in for a fitting for Sonny Frost.

The air in the shop grew heavy. "How are you getting clothes made here?" Oliver asked.

Julian arched a brow. "Why shouldn't I?".

Oliver opened his mouth, then shut it, his expression turning guarded. "Forget it".

Julian's curiosity was piqued. Back at Apex Capital, he cornered Asher, who admitted that the shop was essentially a Frost family asset, reserved for the inner circle.

The owner had been a legendary designer for a European luxury house who had moved back to the States to serve the Frost family exclusively after Harold Frost saved his life.

"The quality is bespoke, but the price is ready-to-wear," Asher said. "Samuel's friends use it too. Don't feel bad about it".

Julian nodded, though the exclusivity was unsettling. "Oliver mistook me for Samuel's brother. Do we look alike?".

"Not at all," Asher said, shaking his head. "Your frames are just similar. Sonny is the only one in the family with your build, so Oliver made a leap".

"Sonny... he's been away for treatment for a long time, hasn't he?".

Asher went quiet. "That's Frost family business. You could ask Samuel, but I doubt he'd tell you".

Julian didn't press. He could piece together the image of Sonny Frost from the fragments he'd gathered: a boy sent abroad young, physically fragile, isolated from his family even during the New Year. He felt a pang of guilt. Here he was, an outsider, living in Sonny's sprawling duplex at a subsidized rate while the owner was exiled.

"Are the brothers close?" Julian asked.

"They're everything to each other," Asher said. "Samuel's been fighting for years to bring him home".

The next time Julian paid his rent, he messaged Sonny, asking if he wanted to increase the price.

Sonny: I don't need the money. If you feel guilty, find another way to repay me..

Julian thought of the brothers being separated. He decided to send some of the photos from the cat cafe. He cropped himself out, leaving only Samuel and the cats.

Sonny: Got the photos. Thanks.

Julian: You're welcome.

Sonny: But why did you crop it?.

Julian froze. He'd hoped the boy wouldn't notice. He didn't want Sonny to be upset seeing an assistant so close to his brother.

Sonny: You don't have to worry about me being unhappy. Samuel talks about you constantly. I wanted to see what you looked like..

Julian stared at the screen. Samuel... talked about him? He sent the original, unedited files.

Sonny: You're cute.

Sonny: You have a sweet smile.

Sonny: I like you..

Julian's face burned. He was terrible at dealing with people like Sonny—people who were as blunt as a hammer. He tried to end the chat with an emoji, but Sonny wasn't finished.

Sonny: I like talking to you. Can we do this often?.

Julian felt the pressure mounting. Sonny was lonely, clearly. He didn't want to be the reason for more drama in Samuel's life, but he couldn't bring himself to turn away a sick kid.

Julian: We can be friends. But don't tell your brother.

Sonny: Then we need to get our stories straight. We'll have to trick him..

Tricking Samuel? Julian wasn't a liar by nature. He signed off quickly, heart racing.

He thought he was being discreet. He was wrong.

The next morning, as Julian approached the executive suite, Asher grabbed his arm. "Don't go in. Samuel is losing it. He's tearing someone apart".

Julian blinked. Samuel rarely raised his voice these days. Then, the door flew open, and Oliver Frost ran out, his eyes red and streaming.

"Did he mess up a deal?" Julian whispered.

"Oliver doesn't even work," Asher said, his voice grim. "To get Samuel this angry, you have to hit a bottom line".

"What happened?".

"Last time Samuel was this fierce, Oliver had swiped Sonny's contact info and sent him some... inappropriate things,"

Asher said. "Samuel is famously protective. His family is his bottom line. If you mess with his family, you're dead to him".

Julian went numb. He had just started a secret correspondence with Sonny Frost.

"Julian?"

He looked up. Luke was standing at the door, his expression full of pity.

"Samuel wants you in his office. Now".