[BL] Bound to My Enemy: The Billionaire Who Took My Girl Chapter 214: Saturday pt 2

NOAH

She was reframing my father’s cruelty as sothing I was responsible for managing.

If I were smaller, if I were quieter, if I were more "serious," then he wouldn’t have to be an. It was the logic of a victim, and for the first ti, I saw it with terrifying clarity.

I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the ceiling. The call went quiet as she waited for my usual surrender.

But this ti the taste of surrender to anyone but Cassian... felt so... bitter.

"Are you done, Mom?" I asked. My voice was flat. Level.

"I beg your pardon?"

I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled quietly but slowly.

Then I spoke again, letting the heavy words roll of my tongue like paper.

"Until my father admits he was wrong about ," I said, the words coming out of my mouth before I could second-guess them, "I won’t be coming back."

The silence on the other end was absolute. It was the kind of silence that followed a gunshot.

My mother was processing a reality she hadn’t prepared for. This wasn’t how I talked. I was the one who absorbed the blows. I was the one who apologized for being hit. I was the one who made myself small enough to be forgiven.

"Noah—"

I hung up. I did it before she could respond, before she could pull back into the orbit of her guilt. I set the phone down and lay back on the bed, my heart hamring against my ribs.

I stared at the white ceiling for a long ti.

My hands were shaking—a fine, high-frequency tremor born of adrenaline and terror.

But underneath the fear, there was a rush. It felt like a breath I’d been holding since high school had finally been released. I had said a true thing, out loud, to the person who needed to hear it most.

The apartnt felt different now. Empty, yes, but open.

The question What do I do now? arrived, but for once, it didn’t feel like a threat. It felt like a gap waiting to be filled.

Mason’s na popped into my head. I needed noise. I needed soone who didn’t know the blueprints of my family’s war. I texted him: Free today?

The response was imdiate.

Mason: Duh. et at the usual spot in twenty.

The "usual spot" was a mismatched café three blocks from Mason’s apartnt, a place that slled of roasted beans and rainy sidewalks. When I arrived, Mason was already mid-sentence, talking to a very confused-looking barista about a girl nad Priya—or maybe it was Jess.

"Noah! My man!" he shouted, waving over. He didn’t ask how I was; he just launched into a twenty-minute update on his love life, his upcoming promotion, and a conspiracy theory about the office coffee machine.

I sat there, nodding occasionally, letting the warm ambient noise of the café wash over . It was grounding to be near another human being who asked nothing of except that I listen to his chaos.

But then, Mason paused. He took a long sip of his latte and looked at . Truly looked at . The performance of the "chaotic friend" vanished, replaced by a rare, startling sincerity.

"You’re never around, dude," he said. It wasn’t an accusation, just an observation. "I see you at the office, but that’s it. We used to get drinks on Fridays. Now you’re just... gone. Is Wolfe working you that hard, or what?"

I felt a flush creep up my neck. I managed to keep my voice casual. "I’m fine. Just busy. You know how he is."

Mason didn’t look convinced. He reached across the table and put his hand on mine, his expression shifting into sothing deeply serious. "Hey. I’m your friend. You know that, right? You can tell things."

"What? I know that. What are you—"

"Noah." Mason squeezed my hand. "It’s okay. You don’t have to pretend with . I know sothing’s going on. I’ve been watching you lately, and I just..."

A cold sweat broke out across my forehead.

My stomach dropped into my shoes. What does he know? Did he see at the park? Did he hear the rumors about the tropolitan Club?

Did he know about the dinner? My mind ran through the inventory of my secrets at lightning speed, each one feeling like a ticking bomb.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," I said. My voice was level, but I could feel the familiar stutter catching in the back of my throat. I tried to look him in the eye, but my vision was starting to blur with panic.

"Noah," Mason said, his eyes full of genuine, heartbreaking concern. "You’re so kind. You let people walk all over you, and you never say anything. I’ve been watching you with him, and I need to ask you sothing. I need you to be honest with ."

I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt like it was being crushed by the sa weight that had flattened in the park.

He knows, I thought. He knows everything.

"Mason—" I started, my voice cracking.

"Look at ," Mason said, leaning in. "Is your boss bullying you at work?"

I froze. My mouth opened, then closed again. The panic, which had been a towering wave a second ago, suddenly crashed into a puddle of pure, bewildering confusion.

"Eh?" I managed.

Mason nodded solemnly, his grip on my hand tightening. "I see the way he looks at you, Noah. Like you’re a problem he’s trying to solve. He’s cold, he’s demanding, and you’re just... you’re so polite to him. I’m worried he’s creating a hostile work environnt. Is he being an to you? You can tell . We can go to HR together."

HR? Like that would even do anything.

I stared at him. I looked at the sincerity in his eyes, the absolute conviction that I was being victimized by a corporate tyrant. Which honestly wasn’t too wrong but he was about a hundred Chapters too late.

I thought about Cassian’s hand in my hair. I thought about him squatting on the pavent in a city park to tell how to breathe. I thought about the way he’d whispered until I t him into the quiet of the night.

A hysterical sort of laugh bubbled up in my chest. I fought it down, though a small, involuntary smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"Bullying ?" I repeated.

"It’s okay, Noah," Mason whispered, patting my hand. "We’ll get through this."