CHAPTER 186: CHAPTER 181: UNTIL DINNER (3)

Irina bowed with practiced grace, though her fingers trembled just slightly at her sides. She didn’t look back as she turned and walked briskly out of the study, the door clicking shut behind her with the faintest relief.

Silence returned to the room.

Gabriel reclined even further in his seat, legs stretched out and one arm draped across the back of Damian’s chair, as if he owned it, which, frankly, he might as well have.

"That went well," he murmured.

Damian stared at him.

Gabriel tilted his head. "You’re thinking about the collar, aren’t you?"

"You wore that shirt," Damian said, voice flat, as he leaned against the edge of the desk.

Gabriel gave a smug little shrug. "I was in your study. It felt right."

Damian narrowed his eyes. "You left marks on display."

Gabriel didn’t flinch. "You left them on display. I was dressed comfortably for the day, minding my reports—until Edward brought the girl earlier than scheduled."

He leaned back in the chair, arms folded behind his head, voice arching with accusation and lazy amusement.

"Because you ordered him to prepare a dinner just for us."

Damian’s lips parted—half a breath, half a retort—but he said nothing.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Don’t look at me like I upended your plans. I wasn’t the one who woke up this morning and decided the entire military command structure needed personal insults and a dinner reschedule."

"I rescheduled because I knew I’d be in a mood," Damian growled, voice low but unmistakably irritated. "And I am in a mood."

Gabriel gave a pointed glance toward his coffee cup. "Not enough caffeine or too many idiots?"

"Yes."

"And now the shirt’s the problem?"

Damian crossed the room, stopping in front of him, towering without effort. His fingers brushed the edge of Gabriel’s collar—just enough to catch the soft, fading bruise that peeked above the open fabric. His touch lingered. Possessive. Too gentle to be neutral.

Gabriel arched a brow. "They should be honored."

Damian didn’t laugh, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Dinner," he said instead, thumb stroking just beneath Gabriel’s throat. "No interruptions. No Edward. No politics."

Gabriel caught the hand and laced their fingers together.

Damian’s gaze fell to their joined hands, and something unguarded flickered in his eyes, easing the tension just slightly.

Gabriel smirked. "Now this is one way to ask your mate out."

Damian huffed, the sound low and begrudgingly fond. "If I had asked, it would’ve involved a better shirt and fewer military corpses on my mind."

"You mean you didn’t schedule this dinner to make up for mauling me into the mattress two nights ago?"

"I didn’t maul you," Damian said flatly.

Gabriel tilted his head, letting his thumb graze along Damian’s knuckles. "No?"

"I worshipped you," Damian muttered darkly. "Thoroughly. And if you’re still sore, it’s because your body wasn’t prepared for a high-ranking overachiever."

Gabriel snorted. "That’s a romantic way to say you don’t know when to stop."

"I did stop," Damian said, mock offended. "Eventually. After your legs stopped working."

Gabriel laughed, breathless now, and tugged Damian a step closer, their hands still linked. "You’re terrible. You know that?"

"Yes," Damian said simply, his voice softening. "But I brought alcohol, and I cleared your schedule tomorrow."

Gabriel paused. "All of it?"

"All of it. You only have to meet Irina once more next week to finalize the arrangement. The rest is mine."

"And Edward has nothing to say to this? Another free day with no consequences?"

Damian leaned in, his tone positively conspiratorial. "Edward glared at me for a full minute."

Gabriel blinked. "Only a minute?"

"He blinked twice. That’s his version of throwing a chair."

Gabriel laughed, soft and disbelieving. "You’re really testing the limits of his loyalty."

"I gave him a new ledger system," Damian said, utterly unapologetic. "He’s too busy color-coding diplomatic incidents to retaliate."

Gabriel arched a brow. "So we’ve achieved peace by weaponizing administrative chaos?"

"It’s worked before," Damian said, brushing his thumb along Gabriel’s knuckles again. "Besides, he’s been wanting to test the new ink-stabilizing ether strips for weeks. I gave him a project and bought you forty-eight hours of uninterrupted freedom."

Gabriel grinned, eyes gleaming with something dangerously close to delight. "You seduced our butler with office supplies."

Damian didn’t even blink. "It was a calculated act of seduction. And unlike most, it worked."

"Must be nice to be a genius in everything you do."

Damian tilted his head slightly, his gold eyes warm but wicked. "It is," he said without shame. "But I assure you, being a genius is nothing compared to being right and smug about it."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Remind me why I agreed to this."

Damian stepped in closer, their hands still laced, their bodies brushing with just enough contact to promise more. "Because you wanted to," he said simply. "Even before you remembered, you wanted me. And now you can’t imagine going a full day without being proven wrong by someone this charming."

Gabriel let out a breath that was half a scoff and half a laugh. "Gods, the ego."

Damian smirked and leaned forward, brushing his lips along the corner of Gabriel’s mouth. "You’re not exactly a beacon of humility yourself."

Gabriel met his eyes then, dark and sharp and very aware. "No. But I didn’t seduce our butler with a ledger."

Damian hummed. "That’s why I’m the Emperor. And you’re the dangerous one in a shirt that doesn’t belong to you."

Gabriel glanced down at his borrowed shirt and raised a brow. "It does now. You left bite marks on me; you have to pay."

"Claimed," Damian corrected, deadly serious.

Gabriel’s grin curved slowly and indulgently. "Then I suppose I’ll keep it."

"As long as you let me help you out of it later," Damian murmured against his ear.

Gabriel sighed, feigning deep exasperation. "You’re incorrigible."

"And you’re still holding my hand."

Gabriel squeezed his fingers in his, smug. "That’s because you seduced me with two days off. I’m not letting go until it’s in writing."

Damian grinned. "I’ll draft the decree myself."