Bound by Shadows of Desire

Chapter 1

Benedict Greenfield fell in love with Aldric White at first sight.
At that party, Benedict watched as Aldric slowly descended the staircase, each step taking him closer to Benedict’s heart.
Then his brother, Isadora Greenfield, took Aldric by the hand and brought him right before Benedict, saying, “Call her sister-in-law.”
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**Chapter 1**
Eldridge had experienced a torrential downpour yesterday, causing a sudden drop in temperature.
As Benedict Greenfield pushed the door open, Oswald, the steward, had already prepared a warm bowl of soup for him, insisting he drink it to warm his body.
The room was cozy and heated, and once inside, Benedict chose to skip the soup. Instead, he handed his coat to Oswald and stared at the thick door behind him.
“I don’t want any, it’s too hot,” he eventually responded, prompting Oswald to urge him again to drink the soup.
Only then did Oswald notice Benedict’s bulging veins and bloodshot eyes, a telltale sign that his emotional state had become unstable.
“It seems the crisis is upon us,” Oswald thought to himself.
“How’s he been holding up?” Benedict asked, his voice edged with concern.
Oswald retrieved the suppressants but didn’t hand them over, placing them gently to the side. He knew Benedict would refuse to take them.
“Not eating much; I had to force some food into him yesterday, but he threw it all up.” Oswald answered.
Benedict ripped his scarf off and tossed it onto the nearby sofa, fiddling with his wristwatch as he replied, “Right. Just the two of us should stay here at Bracken Hall tonight.”
Oswald swiftly summoned the other servants, who filed out in an orderly fashion. Before shutting the door, he cast one last sympathetic glance at the heavy door that had just opened and closed again.
In the dimly lit room, Aldric White felt lost, held captive without windows or lights. He had no clue how long he had been trapped in this dark isolation, time slipping away from him.
At the sound of the door creaking open, he instinctively shrank back into the corner.
This was a reflex; whenever the door unlocked, he would dart to the corner, regardless of who entered.
As the door fully opened and closed, the light from the outside barely seeped in, preventing him from distinguishing who had arrived.
“Aldric.”
At the sound of the familiar voice, Aldric gagged, pressing himself deeper into the wall in a swell of despair that suffocated him.
Benedict adjusted something, and suddenly the room burst into light.
Aldric had been in this room numerous times, but this was the first time he realized it had any illumination.
Benedict stepped closer, looming over Aldric, gripping his chin to force him into eye contact. “Baby, do you know what you did wrong?”
Aldric widened his eyes but remained silent.
He hadn’t done anything wrong; Benedict was the one at fault.
But in Benedict's view, keeping Aldric by his side was the best decision he had ever made.
Aldric only needed to think about escaping, wanting to leave, and that was a sin—one that came with consequences.
Thus, Aldric frequently found himself confined. Even when he wasn’t grounded, other forms of punishment awaited him.
Ultimately, Benedict aimed to hear Aldric utter, “I’m sorry.”
This time, Aldric gritted his teeth, refusing to speak, even as pain flared through his jaw from the tight grip. Hot tears streamed down, splattering onto Benedict’s hand.
One of Benedict’s fingers slipped into Aldric's mouth, prying open his teeth. “If you won’t talk, I’ll find a way to make you.”
With a powerful grip on his jaw, Aldric had no chance of closing his mouth. The finger curled within him, causing saliva to run over it.
Benedict knelt down, bringing himself to Aldric's level. He withdrew his finger just long enough to force Aldric into a kiss.
Aldric fought back fiercely; his lips crashed against Benedict’s teeth, creating a cut that bled freely. Benedict eagerly licked it clean.
When they pulled apart, Aldric was left sobbing, his cheeks flushed. Benedict cradled his face with a soft sigh, “What’s with the tears? Apologize, and I’ll let it go.”
Aldric refused to respond.
He was firm in his belief that he wasn’t at fault.
After getting caught trying to escape last time, he had faced Benedict’s harsh consequences and spent quite some time afraid to make another attempt.
Then one day, he overheard Benedict on the phone, arranging to purchase a specific drug from The Scholar's Guild.
Aldric remembered the chilling way Benedict spoke, his gaze dark and predatory, yet he wore a casual expression as if discussing mundane business.
He said, “Aldric is really rebellious. I want a child; it’ll tie him to me.”
Hearing those words made Aldric tumble down the stairs, and he struggled for days to recover.
How could he bear a child? He was a beta!
In that moment, he decided he had to flee. Despite knowing how clever Benedict could be in tracking him down, he felt he had to find some way to escape.
Hiding in the back of a garbage truck, he was transported out of the city.
Without identification and unable to board any vehicles, he found himself scouring the outskirts for a filthy motel where he could stay.

Chapter 2

Aldric White had procured forged identification documents, and on the very day he received them, he sold the necklace that Benedict Greenfield had bought for tens of millions. With just a few hundred dollars in his pocket for bus fare, he hired a private car and instructed the driver to take him to the station.
Just a few hundred yards from his destination, their car was intercepted by Benedict Greenfield’s vehicle. The driver was ordered out and didn’t return for a long stretch of time.
Benedict yanked Aldric from the car and shoved him into a luxury vehicle parked beside the road.
Inside, Aldric was pinned to the back seat as Benedict forced him to submit to marking, gnawing at the faded glands of Aldric’s beta state.
“Did you really think you could get away?” Benedict sneered, his rage simmering. He had only been on a business trip for a few days, and Aldric had already bolted from home.
He was filled with an overwhelming desire to keep Aldric close, to have him in his sight at all times.
Upon returning to Bracken Hall, Aldric discovered that the household staff had been cleared out; the entire mansion felt stark and empty with just the two of them left. He understood that a harsh punishment awaited him.
From the moment he stepped inside, Aldric was stripped of all his clothing. He bit down on his lips to stifle any cries, moving silently from the door to the sofa.
But Benedict was dead set on hearing Aldric’s words; if he couldn’t, then he’d make him produce other sounds. His actions were torturous and relentless, nearly causing Aldric to lose consciousness.
At one point, Benedict stepped away for a drink, and sensing his opportunity, Aldric shakily stood up, dragging his weak body towards the stairs.
Halfway up, a hand grabbed his ankle.
Aldric was flipped over, water forced into his mouth until he choked and coughed, only for Benedict to smother him again.
He was at his limit. Pushing himself upward a step, he felt Benedict close in, deepening the violation. Again and again, Aldric somehow managed to ascend to the second floor.
Once on the bed, he wept uncontrollably as Benedict watched, staring at Aldric’s puffy eyes with a mixture of pity and rage. The sheer thought of Aldric trying to escape sent his heart hardening.
With a fierce grip, he turned Aldric over, entering him from behind while stifling his cries with a hand over his mouth, forcing him to face the wall.
On the wall hung a photo of Isadora Greenfield, smiling down at them.
“See that?” Benedict asked with a bitter edge. “You’re the one who claimed to love her.”
Aldric let out a soft whimper, trying to bury his face, but Benedict hooked a hand under his chin, forcing him to look up.
“You try to run again, and I’ll make sure Isadora never finds peace.”
That was the threat that haunted Aldric repeatedly.
In this world, Aldric cared very little for anything; Isadora was the one lingering connection he held dear.
That’s why Benedict used her name to manipulate Aldric with such ease.
Yet this time, instead of caving under the threat, Aldric bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, refusing to apologize.
The night dragged on, Aldric’s body filled with an excess of Benedict’s presence, leaving him gasping in tears, but Benedict showed no mercy.
Dawn arrived without a sign of Aldric’s apology. In a cold act, Benedict tossed him aside before leaving for another business trip.
Aldric's gaze wandered aimlessly, his body trembling, still steeped in the traumatic memories of the night before.
He lifted his head, his dazed eyes locking onto a vibrant section of Benedict, clutching at his head as if wishing to crumble inward.
“What’s wrong?” Benedict teased, “lost your voice? Have you gone stupid?”
The torment of his heat had him fully aware yet barely present, and as the realization of his motives faded, he only wished to pull Aldric down deeper into despair.
No longer pressing Aldric for an apology, he dragged him upstairs, positioning him to face Isadora’s photograph on the wall as he sat on him.
Aldric lost track of how many different positions he was forced into, his throat raw from crying, eyelids heavy and unable to lift.
When pain shot through his neck, he felt Benedict’s hand grip his chin from behind, forcing him to gaze at Isadora’s photo.
“Aldric White, tell her who’s bed you’re in now.”
Benedict resumed his attempts to flood Aldric’s with pheromones, but the move was futile—only succeeding in drawing blood from Aldric’s neck.
Aldric had once tried to rationalize Benedict’s senseless acts, eventually concluding that it was akin to how a dog marks territory, needing to feel secure by leaving a mark.
When Aldric’s silence persisted, Benedict’s sharp canines punctured his skin, as if aiming to devour him whole.
“Why so coy? You ashamed to say it?”
His large hand squeezed around Aldric’s waist, a hint of calluses scraping against his pale skin.
“How many times has it been, and you’re still hesitant?”
Benedict moved deliberately, drawing a stifled sound from Aldric, encouraging him further.
“Besides, she’s dead. It’s just a photo now; what are you afraid of?”
As he lifted Aldric’s chin, Aldric had no choice but to maintain eye contact with the person in the picture.
It hit him that his earlier guilt towards Isadora seemed less burdensome.
Even though she was his ex-wife, he now found himself seated on her brother's lap, facing this.
Since that first day when Benedict had taken him, he found some twisted sense of satisfaction in performing these acts before Isadora’s image, almost proclaiming ownership of Aldric in front of the deceased.
Aldric found himself unable to stare at Isadora’s picture, consumed by guilt.
Even trapped in this marriage with Benedict, he was fighting against his will.
A year passed swiftly, and Aldric was astonished to discover that his guilt over Isadora had vanished, replaced by a deeper resentment.
He hated Isadora, but more so, he hated Benedict.
“If I hadn’t married Isadora, none of this would’ve happened.
If I hadn’t agreed to return and attend the gala…”

Chapter 3

Aldric White had just graduated from college when he landed a position as an assistant at Greenfield Holdings. The truth was, Isadora Greenfield was young, ambitious, and remarkably charming. It was hard for Aldric not to develop feelings for him.
After a few months of Isadora making his intentions clear, it was only natural that they ended up in a relationship.
Isadora, despite being the older and more accomplished partner—Aldric's significantly younger—showered him with affection, caring little about what the world thought of their bond. It was surprising that an esteemed alpha like him would choose to marry someone as ordinary as Aldric.
A year into their relationship, Aldric accompanied Isadora to his family home.
Isadora had lost both parents early in life and had only one younger brother, whom Aldric had never met. This brother, Silas Greenfield, had moved abroad years ago. In a bid to bring their worlds closer, Isadora called him back home, hoping for a family reunion—an introduction of sorts for Aldric as well.
At the dinner party Isadora had carefully organized, Aldric met Benedict Greenfield for the first time.
Benedict stood leaning against the staircase, talking on his phone, dressed sharply in a well-tailored suit. Unlike his brother, Isadora, who had a gentler demeanor, Benedict's chiseled features had a more aggressive edge to them—but he was undeniably handsome.
Aldric felt a bit constricted in the custom suit Isadora had chosen for him, moving gingerly as he descended the stairs.
Benedict looked up just as Aldric stepped off the last stair, resembling a timid little rabbit unsure of its surroundings. Following closely behind Aldric was his frail brother, Silas Greenfield.
Benedict couldn't quite pin down his emotions at that moment, but he felt a jolt of attraction when he saw Aldric's delicate figure. Aldric had pale skin, with a small red mole at the corner of his eye that made him even more endearing. He appeared somewhat sickly, thin and lacking color—like a gust of wind might whisk him away.
"You are...?" Benedict began to speak.
At that moment, Silas reached out, pulling Aldric into a gentle embrace. "Benedict, this is Aldric White. Call him your sister-in-law."
For a split second, Aldric felt like the ground fell away beneath him as he registered the implications of Silas's words. He glanced between Isadora and Benedict, internally cursing, *What gives? Isadora Greenfield with this fragile little thing?*
While he and Isadora had a rocky relationship, Benedict's action surprised him—he didn’t turn to leave but instead extended his hand.
"Benedict Greenfield."
Aldric glanced at Isadora, whose face lit up with joy. She leaned in to whisper to Aldric, "My brother seems pretty fond of you."
Thus, Aldric hesitantly took Benedict's hand. His palm was small and delicate, quickly enveloped by Benedict's strong grip, which seemed to linger a little too long, as if he were squeezing Aldric’s hand on purpose.
Aldric felt panic surge through him and withdrew, burying his head against Isadora's shoulder, mumbling that he was tired and wanted to leave.
Neither Aldric nor Isadora anticipated that Benedict would be haunted by the image of Aldric from their very first meeting.
Their encounters only became sparse afterward, with Isadora sometimes bringing home gifts that Benedict had sent.
On the day of Aldric and Isadora's wedding, Benedict appeared. While Isadora mingled with guests, Aldric found himself feeling a bit tipsy. After sending a few messages to friends in the dressing room, Benedict entered without knocking.
Aldric lowered his phone, turning to face him. "Benedict, what’s up?"
With a flush from the alcohol, Aldric's cheeks were now a rosy shade of pink, and all Benedict could think about was how he wanted to lean in and kiss him.
Benedict's throat felt parched, and he instinctively ached for the taste of Aldric’s soft lips, which seemed to promise a sip of nectar. He stepped closer, maneuvering Aldric into the small space before the mirror, enjoying the fleeting look of panic in his eyes as he leaned in...
Aldric pushed against his chest. "What are you doing?"
He felt exasperated, baffled by the sudden aggression from Isadora's brother-in-law.
The noise of joyful cheers resonated from the hallway, and wicked ideas filled Benedict's mind. What would happen if he dared to tease Aldric just a little? Would anyone even notice?
With one hand trapping Aldric's wrists, he leaned in until their lips nearly brushed, but at that moment, the door swung open. A tipsy Isadora stumbled through, surrounded by her friends.
Benedict immediately released Aldric and turned to saunter away, calm and collected.
The next morning, Aldric slept in until nearly noon. He could smell breakfast cooking as he groggily opened his phone, only to find a flurry of messages from Benedict asking about last night.
He hadn’t answered any of them, for Isadora had been quite demanding while drunk, wrapped around him with tired declarations of love.
The final message, sent around 10 AM that morning, read, “What did you two do last night?”
Aldric frowned, restraining the urge to block Benedict’s number, then proceeded to delete the messages. He just couldn’t understand why Benedict was messaging him; they hardly knew each other, and they’d never really spoken before.
Even though he found Benedict unsettling, Aldric kept these feelings to himself. He was too busy dealing with some problems at work to focus on his discomfort.
However, one day, Isadora casually mentioned that Benedict was moving back temporarily to help manage the family business and would be staying with them at The Old Keep until he found a place.
Aldric didn't say anything in front of Benedict, but later that night, as he lay nestled in Isadora's arms, completely exhausted, he managed to whisper, “Is Benedict looking for a place? I’m a bit scared of him.”
Isadora tightened his embrace, misinterpreting Aldric's fears as a need for reassurance. “He’s actively searching. Don’t worry.”
“Benedict can be hard to approach. If he bothers you at all, you need to let me know.”
With Isadora’s warm chest against his back, Aldric felt safe and secure, leaning on him for strength.
But there would come moments when Isadora wouldn’t be there.
One evening, while Isadora was away on a business trip, it left just Aldric and Benedict alone in the house.
A storm raged outside, and everyone had gone to bed early. It was unusual for Benedict to return home before 7 PM, but that night, he surprisingly walked through the door.

Chapter 4

Aldric White emerged from the bathroom, buttoning up his pajamas as he made his way downstairs for a glass of water.
At almost the same moment, across the hall, Benedict Greenfield stepped out of his room, wearing an amused yet unsettling smile as he watched Aldric.
He was using a handkerchief to dry his hands, leaving it slightly damp.
Aldric chose to ignore him, focusing on the stairs, but Benedict followed closely behind. When Aldric opened the fridge to grab a bottle of water, Benedict did the same.
With a gleam of mischief in his eyes, Benedict kept staring at Aldric, who felt a surge of uneasiness and decided to retreat back to his room with the water.
“Hey, brother-in-law, you have such fair skin,” Benedict called after him.
Aldric halted, nearly stumbling down the stairs. Benedict rushed forward, wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him.
The movement lifted Aldric's shirt slightly, revealing a pale expanse of skin at his waist.
“That birthmark is lovely, like an orchid,” Benedict said with a chuckle, leaning down to nuzzle against Aldric's side, as if inhaling the scent of a flower.
Aldric did indeed have a birthmark resembling an orchid, and it made him flush with embarrassment. He pushed Benedict away, muttered a quick “thanks,” and hurried back to his room, locking the door behind him.
At that moment, Aldric thought Benedict had merely caught a glimpse of the birthmark while helping him, clueless that Benedict had known about it long before.
And his methods were far more sinister.
When Isadora Greenfield returned home, Aldric again inquired about Benedict's housing situation. If he hadn’t found a place yet, Aldric considered letting him stay at The Old Keep while he and Isadora moved to a larger apartment near Greenfield Holdings.
He wasn’t sure how Isadora had spoken to Benedict, but soon after, Benedict announced that he found a new place and was moving out.
However, after that, Aldric began receiving harassing texts from an unknown number. Blocking the number didn’t help; the sender always found a way to reach him.
At first, Aldric had no idea who it was until one day, he received a message that simply read, “Brother-in-law, your voice is really nice…”
In disbelief, Aldric told Isadora about it, causing her to explode in anger. She confronted Benedict about it, but shortly after, he left the country. The once seemingly solid relationship of the siblings was shattered once again.
For quite some time, there was no news from Benedict.
Months later, Isadora's car malfunctioned on the highway and crashed.
By the time Aldric reached the hospital, Isadora had already passed away.
Isadora had spoiled Aldric, so he lost all sense of judgment in such a traumatic moment, collapsing in tears just outside the operating room.
Two days later, he began making arrangements for Isadora’s funeral.
It was then that Benedict returned. He made a brief appearance at Isadora’s funeral.
Everything changed that night when Aldric was keeping watch over Isadora’s remains.
He would never forget the empty funeral parlor when Benedict walked in, looked at Aldric's parched lips, and forcefully handed him a glass of water.
“What’s the matter? Planning to drown in sorrow?” Benedict crossed his arms, a smirk dancing on his lips as he looked at the black-and-white photo of Isadora on the wall.
Overwhelmed by grief, Aldric forgot what kind of person was beside him, failing to distance himself even slightly.
Since the day Isadora died, his mind had become a jumbled mess.
Benedict did not press for answers; instead, he found a spot to sit down and began timing everything on his phone.
Half an hour later, with bloodshot eyes and unsteady footing, Aldric approached him. “What did you put in the water?”
Benedict waved dismissively. “Just a little something to ensure you listen.”
With that, he swept Aldric off his feet, carrying him effortlessly; Aldric lacked any strength to push back.
…
The next day, the entire town of Windermere was buzzing with news. Even before Isadora’s funeral was over, Aldric had taken off with money, disappearing without a trace—some claimed even digging to the depths of the earth couldn’t reveal him.
Meanwhile, Aldric was trapped in bed by Benedict, tears streaming down his face as he succumbed to Benedict’s desires.
He had become a “ghost” who vanished from the world.
Benedict never imagined Aldric would willingly follow him, especially given the obvious love between Aldric and Isadora, and Aldric's evident disdain for him.
But that didn’t matter. As long as he could keep Aldric close, Benedict thought, he could make it work.
Just like a dog that eventually remembers its owner, even after some time apart.
In these past six months, Benedict had frequently harbored dark thoughts, contemplating directly taking Aldric for himself.
Yet, right when he reached his boiling point, Isadora had her accident.
On the flight back home, he almost cried out of joy. This was the universe's will; Aldric was destined to be his.
Thus, he took over The Greenfield Family and claimed his sister-in-law as his own.
The following morning, Benedict decided to make breakfast himself.
He loved to cook when at home and had dedicated time to ensuring that Aldric gained some weight, so whenever he was not busy with work, he would dive into recipe books.
Despite his efforts, Aldric continued to grow thinner by the day.
Benedict eventually ran out of options, tried every remedy, consulted nutritionists, but nothing worked. Aldric remained undernourished and was eating less and less.
Finally, he resorted to the only method left—he would prepare meals and watch Aldric eat.
The traces of slaps on his face had not faded, and the scars on his neck and arms were all from Aldric’s frustration.
Benedict never laid a hand on Aldric, but Aldric’s strikes were always hard and deliberate. He retaliated in other ways.
So every encounter they had in bed was intense.
Aldric, still lost in dreams, had only fallen asleep at midnight, haunted by nightmares that robbed him of rest.
As soon as the nightmares faded, Benedict scooped him out of the blankets once more.
“Don’t move.”
Aldric squirmed vigorously, but Benedict held him tighter, giving a playful bite on his neck as a warning.

Chapter 5

Aldric White felt the dull ache in his body, a stark contrast to the vitality of a fresh morning. He remained rigid and unmoving, as if he were a mere paper doll draped over Benedict Greenfield.
Breakfast consisted of seafood congee—Benedict, with a tender insistence, scooped a bowl for Aldric and urged him to sit on his lap, coaxing him mouthful by mouthful.
But Aldric had no appetite at all; he stubbornly refused to open his mouth.
Benedict's hand encircled Aldric's waist, fingers measuring with the precision of a ruler. “You’ve lost weight again over the past few days. Since I’m not busy right now, I’m going to make sure you eat properly every day.”
At these words, Aldric bristled in protest. “No need for that.”
He wriggled like an eel, slipping quickly out of Benedict’s grasp and standing barefoot on the floor, his pink toes pressing against the cool surface, drawing Benedict's attention.
He hated it when Benedict said things like that. It meant Benedict would likely spend every waking hour by his side, bringing work home, forcing him to swallow down medicinal congee and nutrient-dense meals that felt more like punishment than care.
Benedict grasped Aldric’s wrist, effortlessly pulling him back onto his lap just as he tried to retreat further. With a firm hold, he tilted Aldric’s chin up, forcing him to take a bite of the congee.
“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Benedict’s voice brooked no argument.
Aldric swallowed, feeling his stomach churn but unable to eject the food.
“Getting your health back is good for both of us.”
The implication of Benedict's words hung in the air, and Aldric understood with a sinking feeling what that would entail for their futures. His temper flared, and he slapped Benedict’s face in anger.
“Get lost.”
The porcelain spoon clattered against the bowl as Benedict tossed it aside, the noise sharp and echoing. Aldric crouched down, cradling his head, trying to disappear beneath the table.
Benedict looked at him with bemusement. Aldric was always this way—whenever his mood shifted or he moved with too much force, he assumed he might face some unseen punishment.
But to be clear, no matter how forceful or dominating he could be, Benedict had never lifted a finger against Aldric.
He yanked Aldric back from under the table, soothingly patting his back, “I’m going to get us a child. You need to take care of yourself to avoid future complications.”
Aldric’s reaction was explosive. He lifted his chin, colliding with Benedict's jaw, then swatted the bowl off the table, yelling, “I won’t have kids! I can’t have them!”
Benedict held him tightly, “No discussion, just a notification. I’ve already made an appointment with a doctor. They’ll be here soon to check you out.”
Aldric stared at him in despair.
“I know you think betas can’t have children, but with today’s technology, it’s not impossible anymore.”
The small glimmer of hope Aldric had clung to vanished entirely, leaving him adrift in darkness.
Benedict moved quickly; not long after breakfast, the doctor arrived.
Dressed in oversized clothing, Aldric hugged his knees on the sofa. No matter how desperately Benedict tried to sweet-talk him after that morning's confrontation, Aldric hadn’t uttered a single word since.
When Elara Windham entered, she initially mistook the figure on the couch for a large, lifelike doll.
“Sweetheart, this is Dr. Elara,” Benedict said with a familiar ease, having known her for years. He wanted to personally introduce her to Aldric.
Aldric remained silent, clutching his legs, his eyes barely lifting. But a fleeting moment allowed him to catch something Elara didn’t see—the same look of shock and emotional stir that Benedict had exhibited the first time they had met.
Elara had heard from Benedict about Aldric, immerged in curiosity about what kind of person could drive Benedict to such a state.
Now that she saw him, she understood.
So, the previously reluctant Aldric agreed to the examination, but only on the condition that Benedict wait outside.
Benedict had a file to sign, and since he was working from home, he reluctantly complied.
During the check-up, Aldric was surprisingly cooperative, whether it was for blood tests or gland examinations. Elara couldn't shake the feeling that he was far too compliant, not at all what Benedict had described over the phone.
Yet there was something amiss—Aldric's pleading gaze never left Elara.
She found it impossible to disregard the desperation in his eyes. Once the examination concluded, she took her leave with a mix of sympathy and unease, thinking Aldric might sense something.
Days later, Elara returned right on schedule to conduct another examination with Aldric.
Every session brought little communication between them; most of the time, it was Elara guiding Aldric through the motions.
As they neared the end of routine examinations, Elara unexpectedly slipped Aldric a note with a string of numbers and handed him her phone.
A knock resounded at the door—Benedict was urging Elara to wrap up. She quickly organized her things and left the room.
Benedict rarely saw her out, leaving Elara with a rising tide of anxiety as she recalled the earlier exchange.
However, the moment of handing over the note was already done, and wishing she hadn’t wouldn’t change anything.
“Why did today take longer than usual?” Benedict queried casually.
“Oh,” Elara replied, suddenly cautious, “Aldric’s injuries are extensive, so take it easy while you’re handling things.”
She offered a forced smile and a joke to lighten the mood.
Benedict remained silent and directed her to exit, allowing her to breathe a sigh of relief as she departed from Greenfield Manor without looking back.
A week later, it was time for another check-up, but this time, Aldric didn’t wait for Elara. Instead, he was met with a beaming Benedict.
He held up a transparent bag containing the phone and the note, showing them to Aldric.
Aldric had carefully hidden these items, but in Benedict’s presence, he’d forgotten the art of keeping secrets.
“Aldric, did you really think I wouldn’t notice your little tricks?”

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