Silas stepped out of the bathroom, a black towel slung low around his hips, water droplets still tracing paths down his sculpted chest. His hair was damp, tousled from the shower.
The moment he entered the bedroom, his gaze landed on Sylvain, who was still lying on the bed exactly where he had left him — naked and trembling.
Silas's lips curved into a faint, satisfied smirk. "Go to your room," he said, voice calm but leaving no room for argument. "I have work to do."
Sylvain didn't hesitate. He pushed himself up on shaky legs, avoiding Silas's eyes as he gathered his scattered clothes. His body ached with every movement — a constant reminder of what had just happened.
Without a word, he slipped out of the master bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.
Once he was gone, Silas dropped the towel and pulled on a pair of black silk pajama pants. He walked over to the large desk in the corner of the room, opened his laptop, and began going through encrypted files.
