Chapter 31: The Appearance Of Elias Kingsley

Miles held his breath as the man stepped fully into the hallway. The same face. The same shirt. But not the same man. "Mr. Elias," Miles greeted quietly, locking eyes with him. A slow smile tugged at Elias’s lips. "Still sharp, huh?" he chuckled, adjusting the cuff of Theo’s shirt like it didn’t quite belong to him. "I was wondering if you’d recognize me this time." Miles’ jaw tightened. "Sir, it’s better if you stay inside for now." Elias frowned. "Ah, come on, Miles. I’m craving something sweet. This man hasn’t touched a single dessert in...." he glanced at the watch on his wrist, "three months, can you believe that?" Miles managed a strained smile. "I’ll get your favorite, sir. But please, just stay inside." Elias tilted his head, clearly amused. "You always say that. Afraid I’ll charm the whole hotel?" Miles didn’t answer, only held the door open. Elias walked back in with a casual shrug. From the way he moved, lighter, too relaxed, anyone who truly knew Theo would know... this wasn’t him. "He really thought locking the door would work?" Elias said, half-laughing as he looked over his shoulder. "Three months, and this is the welcome I get." Elias smiled, clearly entertained. Miles froze mid-step. He didn’t answer, but his silence said enough. Even though Elias wore a smile most of the time, Miles still preferred Theo. At least with Theo, you knew where you stood. Elias? His smile only masked whatever chaos he was holding back. Miles cleared his throat, stepping in gently. "Sir, maybe you should rest a little. Let me get you something first?" Elias turned, his expression softening into a warm, boyish smile. "Always looking out for me, aren’t you, Miles?" He gave a short, pleasant laugh and walked over to the table, running his fingers lightly over the polished wood. "It’s been three months. You’d think I deserve a bit of fresh air." Miles didn’t move. "Of course. But maybe not just yet. It’s still early." Elias hummed, glancing toward the window, then back at him. "You’re stalling." "Just trying to keep things calm." "Hmm...then..." Elias’s smile didn’t falter, but something flickered behind his eyes. "Can you get me, the macaron you got me last time? You know, the one with...." He tilted his head slightly, tapping a finger to his bottom lip as if genuinely pondering. "What was it? Ah... Lavender and honey. That one... It melted perfectly." He smiled again, soft and delighted, like he was talking about an old friend rather than a pastry. Miles gave a stiff nod. "I remember." "Good," Elias said, gently smoothing down Theo’s collar. "Go on then. I’ll be here... being good." Miles didn’t move. Elias’s gaze slid to him again, still pleasant. "Unless you think locking the door will work again?" There it was. That quiet, velvety warning. Miles exhaled slowly, forcing calm into his voice. "No, sir. I just need a moment." Elias turned away, already losing interest. "You always need a moment." He walked back toward the table, humming under his breath. "But don’t take too long, Miles. Two hours might be all he gets." That’s it, two hours. That’s how much time he needed, or maybe a little bit more. "I’ll ask someone else to buy them, is there any other thing you need, sir?" Miles asked, holding both of his hands in front of his stomach, looking polite, but actually, he was holding tight, worried that what happened last time happened again. This time, he needed to make sure he didn’t slip away. Elias paused, just before pulling out the chair. He looked back, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "You’re really tense today, Miles. Afraid I’ll run?" "No, sir," Miles answered steadily. "Just being careful." A beat. Then Elias laughed, soft, almost boyish. "Careful. Right. That’s what you were last time too, wasn’t it?" He took his seat slowly, crossing one leg over the other like he had all the time in the world. "No need to be so dramatic. I’m not here to cause trouble. I just wanted... a little air. Some sugar. Maybe a walk in the city I’ve never been to before." Elias glanced outside, eyes following the sky as it began to darken. "How about the club here? Is it nice?" Miles kept his smile tight, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "I’m sorry, sir. I’m not sure about that. I’ve never been to one here." Elias didn’t press. He just hummed and leaned back, looking more and more at ease, which, to Miles, was never a good sign. And before he knew it, thirty minutes had already passed. The room remained quiet, aside from the occasional low tune Elias whistled under his breath. Then the doorbell rang. Miles opened the door to find a staff member with a silver tray, two neatly packed boxes of macarons and a tall glass of Elias’s favorite iced coffee blend. "Perfect," Miles murmured, giving a polite nod. He brought it in, placing it gently on the table in front of Elias. "I remembered you liked this one." Elias’s eyes lit up. "Oh, caramel sea salt. You do remember." He picked one up immediately, tossing it into his mouth like a child sneaking candy before dinner. Miles watched closely as Elias took a long sip of the drink next. Elias sighed contentedly, sinking into the couch. "Finally. Something decent." Ten minutes later, his words started to slur just a little. The charm remained, but his posture began to slump. His eyelids flickered heavier with each blink. Miles didn’t move, he just observed. Elias looked over at him with a lazy smirk. "You sneaky bastard..." Then, everything went quiet. Elias’s head tipped to the side, his breathing slow, rhythmic. He went into a deep sleep. Miles exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He immediately reached for his phone, fingers slightly trembling as he scrolled to Marla’s number. The call didn’t connect as it went straight to voicemail. The only explanation was that they had already boarded the plane. At least, that’s what he hoped. Right now, his only chance was to get Daisy Sinclair here, before the man woke up.