The Billionaire's Two-Faced Escort Wife-Chapter 75: The Price Of Freedom

​Alexander froze beside the hospital bed, his hand still extended towards Adrian. He didn’t need to look at Sebastian to feel the triumphant, icy satisfaction radiating off him.

Adrian’s request—"Sebastian, can you take me with you, please?"—was a direct, public rejection, a professional and deeply personal slap.

​Alexander’s fists tightened, his carefully constructed composure cracking. He had risked his professional reputation, nearly lost control in a fit of rage and lust, and then abandoned Adrian on a dangerous street, all in a misguided attempt to give Adrian the "freedom" he thought he needed. This was the result: Adrian choosing the one person Alexander couldn’t stand.

​"Adrian," Alexander started, his voice a low, warning growl.

​Adrian finally opened his eyes, and the sheer hostility in his gaze was a physical blow. The moisture in his eyes wasn’t tears of pain, but tears of pure, controlled rage.

​"Leave me alone," Adrian cut him off, his voice weak but sharp. "What more do you want from me? You left me on that street. You screamed at me. You slapped my hand. You wanted me gone. So, I’m gone... leave me alone," he blinked slowly, looking away from Alexander’s face.

​He shifted his gaze to the overwhelmed homeless man, Mr. Willow, and the nurse. "I need to thank the people who actually saved my life. If it weren’t for them, I would actually have died," he said, locking his gaze on Alexander, making sure he felt the severity of the situation.

​Sebastian, recovering from his initial shock if Adrian’s words moved instantly. He gently pushed Alexander’s arm away from the space near the bed and approached Adrian, his expression filled with genuine concern for Adrian and rage at Alexander.

"Did you really do that? Abandon him on a dangerous street?" Sebastian asked slowly, taking Adrian’s hand in his.

Alexander gritted his teeth, the moment he slapped Adrian’s hand and shouted at him to get out of his car flashed across his eyes and guilt churned in his chest like a stubborn reflux.

"This is between my secretary and me, it’s none of your business –"

"Jesus Chris, Alex. You really did it. What did he ever do to deserve such treatment from you? Did you also send the tugs to –"

"I would never!" Alexander snapped, his eyes narrowing at Sebastian in a silent warning, asking him to back off from the matter and stop making crazy assumptions.

"Sebastian," Adrian gently tugged at Sebastian’s finger, fighting his tears from falling in front of Alexander.

He didn’t deserve to see him cry.

​"Adrian, I’m sorry. Of course, I’ll take you with me. You’re in no state to be here," Sebastian said, his voice soft and non-confrontational. He looked at the nurse. "We need to arrange a transfer immediately to a private facility. Can you call the ambulance?"

​The nurse nodded nervously and hurried off.

​Alexander watched the scene unfold—Adrian accepting Sebastian’s comfort, the easy, gentle shift in power—and the darkness returned to his eyes. He had offered Adrian freedom, and Adrian had immediately used it to choose Alexander’s rival.

​"Adrian," Alexander spoke, his voice dangerously even, cutting through the murmurs of the nurse and Mr. Willow. "We have a contract. Do not act out of place,"

​Adrian turned his head on the stiff pillow to look at Alexander, a look of utter exhaustion mixed with defiance.

​"I remember the terms, Boss," Adrian said, using the title like a knife. "But the contract requires me to be your secretary, not your victim. When you drop your secretary off in a crime-ridden alley and wish him dead, that constitutes a violation of the employer’s duty of care and a hostile work environment. I wish I could say the contract is void, and I’m free... but I know I can never be free from you. But I will make sure I never stay in the same space as you again. I can let you but I know I can never be free from you. But I will make sure I never stay in the same space as you again. I can let you speak Ill of me, but I can never let you threaten my life, it was never part of any of our deals. I will never return to your home."

​The words struck Alexander with the force of a physical blow. Adrian was using the legalistic language of their arrangement against him, pinpointing his monstrous act as the legitimate termination clause.

​Sebastian stepped forward, placing a hand protectively on Adrian’s shoulder. "He’s right, Alexander. You abandoned him. Whatever this contract you have with him is, or was... he jas the right to pause or completely terminate it. You threatened his life, you have no legal claim now."

​Alexander ignored Sebastian. His gaze was locked solely on Adrian. The dark anger in his eyes softened, replaced by a desperate, agonising fear. He couldn’t lose Adrian. Not the secretary, not the man who saw past his walls, and definitely not his husband!

​"Adrian," Alexander pleaded, a rare and startling crack in his formidable exterior. "I was wrong. I was angry. I was—"

​"You," Adrian finished for him, his voice weak but triumphant. "Yes, I know. You were just being yourself, Boss. You don’t have to stop so low time apologise to a nobody. You don’t owe your secretary any apology, you’re the boss, your word is law."

​He turned back to Sebastian. "Sebastian, if you can arrange for Mr. Willow here to be financially compensated for his extraordinary kindness, I have a little savings and I don’t mind sending it all to him. Just grab my phone and –"

​"It’s alright, Adrian," Sebastian smiled at Adrian, "You don’t have to worry, Adrian. I’ll cover all his medical and financial needs. I’ll clear his expenses and set him up in my guest house to recover."

​"No," Alexander cut in, his voice ringing with absolute finality. He walked right past Sebastian, pulling out his wallet and tossing several thick bundles of cash—enough to easily pay off the clinic and change Mr. Willow’s life for years—onto the bedside table.

​"Mr. Willow," Alexander said, fixing the homeless man with his intense gaze. "Thank you for saving my...secretary. This is for your trouble. Now, leave, and consider yourself paid in full."

​He didn’t wait for a response. Alexander turned back to Adrian, his eyes burning with a possessive intensity that was terrifying.

​"You are coming with me, Adrian," Alexander stated, his voice low and unwavering, devoid of any room for argument. "Let me take responsibility for my actions."

​Adrian looked at the money, then at Alexander’s face. He was exhausted, broken, and terrified, but he refused to yield.

​"I won’t go with you, Alexander. I hate you. Just leave me alone." Adrian whispered, his eyes closing in utter defeat and pain.

​Alexander watched Adrian’s silent, defeated form. The cold rejection was his final breaking point.

​He leaned down, closer than Sebastian, closer than anyone, his voice rough with despair, and he whispered so only Adrian could hear him.

​"I am sorry, Adrian. I am so sorry for what I did to you. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry." The apology was the most genuine, vulnerable thing Alexander had ever uttered. "But you are coming with me. I can’t let you go with him."

​Without another word, Alexander gently but firmly scooped Adrian up, ignoring the grunt of pain that escaped Adrian’s lips. He didn’t ask; he simply took. He held the beaten man carefully against his chest, moving with a controlled urgency that brooked no resistance.

​"Sebastian, male yourself useful and ask Doc. Stan to my house immediately," Alexander ordered, looking at a stunned Sebastian. "I need him already waiting before we get to the penthouse."

​And just like that, Alexander carried Adrian out of the dingy clinic, away from Sebastian’s eager assistance, and back toward the expensive car that had brought them both so much pain.

___

Adrian lay on the bed in the master’s bedroom, an IV fixed on his hand and some of his bandages had been removed.

Doc. Stan, who happened to be Alexander’s cousin had said that the bandages were unnecessary, leaving only the one around his head due to the stitched wound on his forehead.

Alexander was currently speaking to Doc. Stan and hearing Alexander’s voice made Adrian ball his fists in anger.

He didn’t want to be there, he didn’t want to see or hear Alexander speaking. He hated the man, and he couldn’t wait to regain some strength so he could run away from that house.

He was still working for Alexander, and pretending to be his wife, but he was no longer going to live with him. It was no longer safe.

Slowly, the door opened and Doc. Stan walked in, followed by Alexander.

Alexander walked slowly, his chest filled with guilt and longing. Adrian hasn’t spoken to him for the past hour, and the silence was starting to eat at his soul.

He couldn’t believe that he almost lost Adrian forever, because of his stupid, uncontrolled rage.

He stood by the side of the bed and watched Doc. Stan removes the IV from Adrian’s hand.

"You need to wash up, apply the ointments and eat. Alexander will help you do that. After that, you need to sleep... really sleep. I’ll be back tomorrow to check up on your head. See you later, Adrian," Doc. Stan said, giving Adrian a small smile before walking out of the room.

Silence reigned.

It was just the two of them left, tension thrumming between them.

Adrian refused to look at Alexander, his brows creasing.

"I can bathe myself. I don’t want you touching me –"

"I was jealous," Alexander admitted, his voice low, even as it cut Adrian’s words short.

Adrian paused, his hands trembling slightly as he realised what Alexander had just said.

He bit his lip, staring at the sheets between his legs, not speaking.

Slowly, Alexander walked forward, lowering himself on the bed, "Did you hear me?" He asked calmly, softly.

Adrian’s heart thrummed warmly, butterflies fluttering around his chest and stomach, but he didn’t move, didn’t reply.

"Adrian..." Alexander called, gently reaching up to cup Adrian’s chin, tilting his face up to meet his guilty gaze, "I said, I was jealous Adrian... I am still jealous. And, I’m fucking sorry for what I did." He murmured, his thumb gently caressing Adrian’s jawline.