Chapter 117: Out of Their Control

Elias had his fist jammed against his mouth when the thought hit him. He snatched up his pants and dragged the fabric hard across his lap, covering the tender place high on his inner thigh like his life depended on it.

He had nearly blown the whole act just now.

The last time his underwear had flashed by accident, that stupid black pair had been enough to leave him and Giselle on terrible terms. There was no chance he was letting her get another look now.

Giselle’s hand paused for only a second. "You don’t need to hide it that aggressively. It’s not like I didn’t already see the black one last time."

Elias went still.

Then he looked at her in disbelief. "Giselle, you’ve gone bad."

[ . . . ]

Anyone who spent enough time dealing with Elias was bound to pick up something.

Elias had dealt with more people than he cared to count, and he knew how someone like Giselle worked. When she brought up something that had once made her angry, it usually meant she had already loosened her grip on it. That was why she had forgiven him more than once already. Give her a reason that made enough sense, and she stopped holding on.

That rule was not absolute. A very small number of things would never pass her lips again. Those were the ones she buried deep and remembered forever.

Serena was the exact opposite. When Serena dragged up an old offense, it almost never meant she had let it go. Most of the time it meant she wanted to use it again, this time with more humiliation attached.

After sorting that out in an instant, Elias chose not to answer at all. He stayed folded in place with his knees turned inward and his thighs pressed tightly together, making himself even harder to deal with.

Giselle closed her eyes for a moment.

He had a gift for this. No matter what mood she started in, he always found a way to needle it, prod it, and turn it against her.

When she opened her eyes again, her tone was flat. "If you keep sitting like that, how exactly am I supposed to put the ointment on?"

She gave him a beat, then added, "Or are you planning to drag this out until you make yourself sick again, so I end up taking care of you one more time?"

That got him.

Elias’s lips moved, but nothing came out. After a pause, he shifted the pants aside just enough to expose his thigh while still stubbornly keeping the most private part hidden under the edge of the fabric.

Giselle did not hesitate again.

She reached toward the top of his inner thigh, scooped out a large amount of ointment, and spread it across the inflamed skin in one cool, thick stroke. Then her palm pressed down and began rubbing it in with decisive force.

Elias’s whole body jolted.

A muffled sound tore out of his throat. He bit down harder on his fist, shoulders tightening as tears gathered in his reddening eyes. He looked like he was about to cry again.

Giselle ignored it completely.

This was exactly the kind of thing that needed to be done quickly. The longer she dragged it out, the worse it would get for both of them.

"Ah..."

Another strangled sound slipped out of him, and then the sound she knew too well followed it. He had a very particular way of crying, a stifled, broken sort of sob that kept catching in his throat because he kept swallowing it back down, as if there were too many grievances to fit inside one body and no safe place to put any of them.

Giselle had no intention of comforting him.

She only judged that she had probably done enough, lowered her head, and looked down to check how well the ointment had spread before pulling her hand away.

That single glance was enough to make her turn her face aside almost immediately.

Under the pressure of her palm, the flushed stretch of his inner thigh had trembled in soft, visible waves. The flesh was warm, pink, and far too vivid at that distance. It looked indecently alive beneath her hand, and the sight hit her nerves so abruptly that she yanked back as if she had touched a live wire.

Only then did Elias’s suppressed crying ease a little.

He loosened his mouth from his fist. Two clear bite marks had been pressed into the skin, and each one had already broken into a thin red line where his canine teeth had cut too deep.

He drew a shaky breath. "Are we done...?"

Giselle kept her face blank, even if her hand had already withdrawn farther than necessary. She stepped back, got out of the car, and said without looking at him, "We’re done. Put your pants on."

Elias blinked.

His hand was injured too. Was she really not going to use this as an excuse to touch that as well?

He had barely opened his mouth when the car door shut in front of him.

He sat there for a second, then muttered under his breath, "What a hopelessly straight woman."

There was nothing else for it. He pulled his pants back on properly, shifted in his seat, and looked up just in time to see Giselle get into the driver’s seat and start the car.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

Giselle released the handbrake. "Back."

At the Blackwood residence, the door to Serena’s private office flew open with a violent crash.

The servants downstairs only had time to glance up before the mistress of the house came down from the second floor in a cold fury and strode straight toward Liora, who was seated on the sofa in the main sitting room.

Liora lifted her eyes to her sister’s face. "What happened?"

She asked the question calmly, but she already had a guess.

At this point, there were only two people in the world who could send Serena’s emotions off the rails that badly. One was Lucien. The other was Elias.

And if she compared those two on pure capacity for causing trouble, the answer stopped being difficult.

Serena’s voice came out tight with anger. "Elias is gone."

Liora did not rise right away. "I’ll ask."

She picked up her phone, sent the message, and waited.

A moment later, the look on her face changed.

Lila had told her she was no longer watching Elias. She had no idea where he had gone.

Serena’s expression sharpened. "Where is he?"

Liora lowered the phone and looked up at her. "How did you realize he was missing?"

The instant the question left her mouth, Serena understood.

Her gaze went cold enough to cut. "I sent someone to campus to pick him up."

Liora’s tone grew flatter. "Then what about the person you had shadowing him?"

"He found a way to shake her."

Serena stared at her for half a second, then her control split open. "That is the level of work you call acceptable?" Her voice dropped instead of rising, which only made it worse. "You assigned someone to keep an eye on a college student, and he still slipped the tail?"

The servants nearby read the room at once. Without making a sound, they left as quickly as dignity allowed.

Liora stood up now too, her own face cooling over into something equally sharp. "You know exactly how difficult he is."

Serena drew in a slow breath and forced herself back under control. When she spoke again, every word was clipped clean. "Difficult enough for this?"

Liora said nothing.

Serena was right. Elias was slippery, manipulative, and infuriatingly good at creating openings where there should not have been any. But disappearing outright was something else. Even for him, vanishing to this degree should not have been possible.

Serena closed her eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of her nose. She had worked the entire day only to come home to this.

"I do not have the energy to argue with you," she said at last, quieter now but no less cold. "He is missing. I am bringing him back. You are helping."

Liora fell silent for a moment before answering. "Fine."

The agreement came easily enough. It would have happened whether Serena demanded it or not.

But when the two of them separated, both faces had gone fully dark.

This was no longer just a simple problem.

It felt more like a slap.

Elias had started slipping out of their control.

And he was not the only thing that had.

The car moved through the night in complete silence.

Streetlights slid across the windows. The city outside had that late-night shine expensive neighborhoods always had, all clean pavement and controlled quiet, like even the darkness here had been curated.

Then a phone started ringing.

The tune was almost cheerful.

Elias touched his pocket and felt his own phone vibrating there.

Back when he did not have people added on Instagram, the only way to reach him was by calling. After people had him there, a direct call usually meant something was urgent enough that they did not want to leave a message trail or wait for him to answer when he felt like it.

He pulled out the phone and, with very deliberate innocence, rested it on his left palm instead of lifting it straight away so Giselle could hear it better if she wanted.

Her response came at once. "Who is it?"

Elias looked down at the screen.

The contact name staring back at him was Sassy Jokester.

His heartbeat skipped. He killed the call immediately. "No one."

Then, moving as fast as human dignity would allow, he changed the displayed name.

A second later, the phone rang again.

Giselle’s eyes remained on the road, but her voice had sharpened. "Who is it?"

This time Elias did not try to bluff.

He stared at the screen and answered honestly, "Liora."

The car stopped so suddenly that the seat belt locked against his chest.

Giselle turned toward him and held out her hand.

"Give me the phone."