CHAPTER 112: CHAPTER 112: DRESS ME UP (2)

The private suite was a continuation of the first room, the same decadence being displayed without shame. Plush armchairs upholstered in pale suede, floor-to-ceiling mirrors framed in brass, and a low glass table already laid with carafes of sparkling water, champagne, and a neat bowl of truffles dusted with gold leaf.

Elias didn’t even bother hiding the way his hand drifted toward the chocolates. If Victor wanted him here, he could at least pay the toll of sugar.

He had his fingers around one when a voice that made him groan cut across the air.

"Not that," Victor said.

Elias froze, narrowing his eyes as Victor stepped closer, his crimson gaze cutting toward the open double doors where attendants waited like soldiers. A snap of fingers, a rolling rack appeared, not with scattered samples as Elias expected but with complete looks, head to toe.

Not just suits. Full ensembles. Shoes gleaming beneath, jewelry already laid out on black velvet trays, even socks folded with clinical precision. And Elias’s jaw almost opened when he saw small boxes discreetly stacked at the end.

"Is that...?" He looked back at Victor, incredulous. "You picked underwear?"

Victor’s mouth curved, the patience of a man who had planned this move while his enemy, or lover, was sleeping. "Do you think I’d leave the foundation of the look to chance?"

Elias stared at him, then at the attendants wheeling in another rack, identical in its obsessive completeness. He turned back again, slowly, as if giving Victor one last chance to claim this wasn’t what it looked like. That this was some joke and that he didn’t have to try them on.

"You’re insane," he said flatly. "You’ve lost your mind. Who in the hell chooses socks and jewelry in advance? And lingerie? For me?"

Victor didn’t even blink. "Your measurements were taken the first night you stepped into my house. I like efficiency."

"You are obsessive." Elias narrowed his eyes behind the glasses. "You were never going to let me go, were you?"

"Bingo. You get one truffle before trying them on for this." Victor took one of the armchairs with the air of a king sitting in his throne and threw a truffle at Elias.

Elias caught the truffle without looking, rolling it once between his fingers before popping it into his mouth. The chocolate melted slow and decadent on his tongue, and he hated, really hated, that it was good enough to almost distract him from the racks of insanity lined up like a military display.

He chewed, swallowed, and leveled Victor with a stare over the rim of his glasses. "You’re aware that bribery only works if I have any intention of cooperating."

Victor lounged deeper into the suede chair, one leg crossed, arm draped across the side like he owned not just the suite but the air in it. "You’re already eating my bribe."

Elias bit back the urge to roll his eyes. He turned toward the attendants, who looked unnervingly like they’d been trained for battlefield strategy. The first tray held cufflinks shaped like shards of obsidian, paired with a charcoal suit so sharp it looked capable of drawing blood. The second ensemble gleamed in pale ivory silk with a tie pin that glittered faintly with what Elias suspected were mined diamonds. And the third, Elias stopped, blinking once, then twice.

"...Are those red socks?"

Victor didn’t even lift his gaze from Elias, though the corner of his mouth curved like he’d been waiting for that exact reaction. "Every empire needs its flag."

Elias let out a short, incredulous laugh. "This should be yours, you are the red flag here."

One of the attendants coughed discreetly into a gloved hand, the sound clipped short like even they weren’t sure if it was safe to breathe.

Victor, utterly unbothered, finally raised his eyes fully, a crimson gleam catching the light. "Then wear them," he said smoothly, "so no one mistakes where the danger belongs."

Elias blinked, caught between outrage and a laugh he refused to give. "...You realize how deranged that sounds?"

Victor tipped his head back against the chair, unrepentant. "Deranged is forcing you into clothes you hate. I," he gestured lazily to the racks lined up in militant precision, "am only ensuring you wear what makes you mine."

Elias’s mouth twitched despite himself, half a smirk, half a grimace. "Inevitable, huh?" He plucked the red socks from the tray and held them up between two fingers like they were radioactive. "No, this is just ridiculous."

Victor’s smile grew wider. "Try them. You might find ridiculous suits you."

Elias raised an eyebrow, ignoring the staff becoming increasingly uncomfortable by their exchange. He... he was having a lot of fun with this. More than he wanted to admit. The absurdity of it, the precision, the way Victor looked like he was commanding a war council instead of a fitting... it was ridiculous. And infuriating. And, gods help him, entertaining.

He rolled the socks in his palm, tossing them lightly like a ball, while Victor’s gaze tracked the movement with the sharp patience of a predator indulging prey. At the right height, Elias snapped his wrist and sent the bundle sailing through the air.

Victor caught them one-handed, without looking away from him, the motion fluid and elegant, like Elias had just given him exactly what he wanted.

The attendants froze, as though waiting for one of them to explode.

Elias tilted his head, mouth curving faintly. "Congratulations. You’ve been upgraded from obsessive to clown."

Victor’s thumb smoothed idly over the red wool, his expression a study in unhurried delight. "And you just volunteered to be my audience."

Elias barked out a laugh before he could stop himself, the sound sharp and disbelieving. The attendants flinched as if laughter were somehow more dangerous than anger.

"Fine, fine," Elias said, shaking his head, still smiling despite himself. "I’ll try what you prepared. Happy?"

Victor leaned back in the chair, his crimson gaze brightening with a slow, satisfied gleam, like he’d been waiting for that precise moment of surrender. "Ecstatic."

Elias muttered something under his breath that suspiciously resembled insufferable god complex as one of the attendants hurried forward with the first look.