Chapter 120: Ellis Roselle.... Addicted....
Silence settles over the office, thick and unmoving. I sit behind the vast mahogany desk, its polished surface reflecting the soft glow of the recessed ceiling lights.
My eyes remain fixed on the open file before me, forcing myself to focus on work.
Two days.
It’s been two days since Silas left for X Country without a single word of explanation. Without even a goodbye. Not a message. Just an empty space beside me in the morning, a cold pillow, and a kitchen that feels hollow without his quiet presence.
Just his secretary showing up every morning with breakfast and every evening with dinner. No matter how many times I tell him to leave me alone, he refuses. He waits until I finish eating before quietly disappearing again.
Like some overprotective nanny carrying out Silas’s orders.
I close the file. The sound is louder than it should be in the stillness. I lean back, let my head rest against the chair, and exhale slowly, willing the pressure in my chest to ease.
Maybe he’s genuinely busy. Trapped in something urgent. Something that leaves no room for a message.
I should wait. I should be patient.
But the words feel hollow, even in my own mind.
My phone vibrates against the desk, cutting through the silence. I pick it up, the screen’s cool light washing over my face.
Sum’s name flashes across the screen.
Dude, can you stop ignoring me?
I stare at the message for a long moment. Then I lock the screen and set the phone aside—a gesture that feels more like surrender than dismissal.
My gaze drifts to the glass wall spanning the length of the office. Beyond it, the city sprawls beneath a velvet sky, its lights scattered like fallen constellations—gold, white, and amber, trembling against the darkness.
Late night.
The hour when the absence of someone becomes a presence of its own, filling every quiet corner of the mind.
Two days.
I’ve thrown myself into work like a drowning man, hoping spreadsheets, contracts, and endless meetings would pull me under. But they don’t. Nothing does. Every quiet moment, every pause between tasks, I find myself reaching for him. For the warmth of his body beside mine in the dark. For the soft curve of his smile that breaks through my thoughts without warning.
A tired smile drifts across my lips. I shake my head—a small, wry gesture meant for no one but myself.
Who would have thought?
Ellis Roselle.
Addicted.
The smile lingers, bittersweet.
You’re some kind of dangerous drug, Silas Stoneheart.
And I’ve become a very willing addict.
My smile lingers as my gaze drifts back to the window, to the city stretching beneath me.
A soft knock sounds at the door.
My smile vanishes, smoothed away as though it had never been there. I don’t turn toward the sound. My voice is flat.
"Come in."
The heavy door swings open on silent hinges. Measured footsteps cross the floor, unhurried, uninvited. I don’t look up.
A soft clink. A coffee cup settles onto the desk. The rich scent of coffee curls through the air.
"I didn’t ask for coffee."
A voice I know too well answers, "But you need it. Especially if you’re going to keep ignoring your best friend’s messages."
I look up.
Sum stands before me, his palms resting on the desk, leaning forward with a half-grin balanced somewhere between mischief and concern.
"What are you doing here?"
He straightens, sliding his hands into his pockets with practiced ease. "I came to see what could possibly be so important that my best friend can’t even reply to a simple text."
I look away, my gaze sliding toward the city beyond the glass—the same city that has kept me company through the long hours of the past two nights.
"Everic is abroad. I’ve been buried in work. Meetings. Reports. You know how it is."
Sum draws the words out, letting them linger between us like a question that doesn’t need an answer.
"Work and meetings... or are you just trying to fill the silence because you’re missing your wife?"
I don’t answer. The silence is answer enough.
He moves toward the glass wall, stopping beside me. His gaze drifts over the glittering city before he looks at me through its reflection. When he speaks again, the teasing has faded from his voice, replaced by something quieter.
"Come on, Ellis. Just because you’re in love now doesn’t mean you get to forget about your bro."
A small, exaggerated sigh.
"I’m wounded."
My brow furrows, frustration flickering beneath the exhaustion. "Sum..." I pause, searching for words that refuse to come. "I’m not ignoring you."
Another pause.
"I just don’t feel good."
He turns quickly, a spark of excitement lighting his expression. "And I have the perfect solution."
I watch him without speaking.
Now what?
"Do you remember Soha? From college?"
The name stirs nothing in my memory.
"Who?"
He stares at me, searching my face for a flicker of recognition that never comes. "The Alpha girl. The one famous for flirting with everyone."
A vague memory surfaces, only to fade again.
"And?"
"She finally settled down. Got married." He shrugs lightly. "She’s throwing a party. She’s been trying to reach you for days—calls, messages—but you’re impossible to get ahold of. So she asked me to drag you along."
My voice stays flat.
"I’m not going."
Sum’s face twists into exaggerated misery, the picture of wounded devotion. "Ellis... can you just be human for one night? It’s been ages since we went out together. Just the two of us."
I glance at him from the corner of my eye. His expression is soft, hopeful, almost childlike in its earnestness. There’s no pretense there, no hidden agenda. Just a friend trying to pull another friend out of the darkness.
"Why do you always act like my second wife, begging for my time?"
He grins, shameless and completely unbothered. "Think of me however you want. Just come with me. Please."
The silence stretches between us. His eyes stay fixed on me, patient, unwavering.
"So you’ll come?"
"No."
"Ellis..." He drags my name out in exaggerated despair.
"I have work. Get out."
With an exaggerated groan, he drops his head onto my desk. "Nope. I’m not going anywhere until my husband agrees to come with me."
I stare at him for a long moment. The absurdity of the scene—a grown man draped across my desk like a child refusing to leave a playground.
The laugh escapes.
Unexpected. Genuine.
"This wife deserves a divorce."
He lifts his head, grinning.
"Ellis..."
I run a hand through my hair, shaking my head. "Fine. I’ll come."
He springs upright, his face lighting with unmistakable triumph. "Great. I’ll send you the address."
His phone is already in his hand, fingers moving quickly across the screen. A moment later, mine buzzes on the desk. I don’t look at it. My eyes remain on him.
He slips his phone back into his pocket and heads for the door, tossing a lazy wave over his shoulder.
"Don’t be late, Mr. Charming."
The door clicks shut behind him. My laughter lingers, soft and unexpected.
He’s never going to change.
I reach for my phone, unlock the screen, and glance at Sum’s message.
Heaven Lit Hotel.
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