The next morning on set felt different. A subtle shift in the atmosphere, a barely perceptible tension that hummed beneath the usual organized chaos of filming. I couldn't shake the feeling that Levi's "appreciation" for the leak information had come at a cost, even if Finn and Maya seemed blissfully unaware. They were their usual chatty selves, though Finn avoided making direct eye contact with me, a faint blush still rising on his neck whenever our paths crossed. Perhaps my playful threat in the bar had been more effective than I'd realized.

The filming itself was demanding. The painting scenes required intense concentration.

But during breaks, the unease would creep back in. I found myself watching Finn and Maya, a protective instinct I hadn't realized I possessed now firmly rooted within me. Were they being treated differently? Were there hushed conversations I wasn't privy to? Or was it all just my paranoia, the lingering shadow of Levi's veiled threat?

The day wore on, a blend of artistic immersion and underlying anxiety. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the Aethelgardian set, I couldn't shake the feeling that the events of the Ascarian bar, and Levi's subsequent reaction, were far from over.

Approaching Finn and Maya during a lull in filming felt like stepping onto shaky ground. "Hey guys," I began, offering a sheepish smile. "About the other night at the bar… I'm sorry if my comment was a bit… much. The alcohol definitely had me a little sideways."

Finn, who had been fiddling with a camera lens, looked up, a hesitant smile on his face. "No worries, Raphael. We were all a bit tipsy. Didn't think anything of it." He still avoided direct eye contact, though, and the faint blush returned to his cheeks.

Maya, leaned against a prop table, arms crossed. "Yeah, well, it was certainly memorable. You scared the poor guy half to death." She smirked at Finn. "But hey, at least we got a good story out of it."

Despite their seemingly easygoing reactions, I still felt a pang of guilt. My attempt to deflect their questions about Levi had involved using them, even if indirectly.

"Still," I insisted, "it wasn't really fair of me. Sorry."

The last thing I needed was to alienate the few genuine connections I had on this set.

Maya grinned, her eyes twinkling. "Well, if you're really sorry, Raphael," she said, a playful smirk spreading across her face, "then dinner's on you tonight. Consider it payment for the emotional distress caused by your… vivid imagination regarding Finn's activities." She winked, nudging Finn playfully. "What do you say, boys? Raphael's buying."

"Yeah, of course," I agreed readily, a genuine smile finally breaking through the lingering tension. "Please, pick a place you enjoy, guys. My treat. Consider it a small offering to the gods of on-set camaraderie."

...

The restaurant Maya chose was a lively little place tucked away on a side street, bustling with a mix of locals and what I assumed were other film crew members seeking refuge from the long shooting days.

We settled into a corner booth, the worn leather comfortable beneath me. Maya immediately launched into a story about a particularly disastrous costume fitting, her animated gestures and colorful language drawing laughter from both Finn and me. Finn, though still a little reserved around me, seemed to relax as the evening wore on, the awkwardness from the bar incident slowly fading into the background.

For a while, the conversation was light and easy, filled with the usual on-set banter – complaining about long hours, gossiping about the director's eccentricities, and sharing funny anecdotes from filming.

As the plates of food arrived, the conversation lulled slightly. It was in this quiet moment, however, that I felt Maya's gaze on me, a subtle shift in her expression from lighthearted amusement to something a little more thoughtful. The feeling of being observed, of unspoken questions lingering beneath the surface, returned.

"So, Raphael," she began, her tone casual but with a hint of something more beneath the surface, "how's married life treating you? You know, now that the initial… whirlwind has settled?"

Finn, who had been mid-bite into a kebab, paused, his eyes flicking between Maya and me.

I offered a practiced smile, trying to project an image of a contented, if slightly weary, spouse. "The marriage itself is fine, you know," I said, my tone light and even. "I love my husband, of course." I paused for a beat, adding a touch of relatable frustration. "But again, he's a rich, powerful man, so even a simple dinner out like this usually involves dodging paparazzi jumping out from behind every potted plant. Some days it's a bit… tiring, you know?"

Maya listened intently, her expression thoughtful. "Yeah, I can imagine that would be intense," she conceded, nodding slowly. "Being constantly under that kind of scrutiny… it would definitely put a strain on things. So, you guys mostly stay in, then?"

Finn, having swallowed his mouthful of kebab, chimed in, his earlier awkwardness seemingly replaced by genuine curiosity. "Yeah, I mean, we never see you two out and about. Except for those charity galas, which look like a whole different kind of zoo."

Their questions, though seemingly innocent, were circling closer to the truth. My carefully constructed explanation about paparazzi fatigue only went so far. The level of our seclusion, the almost complete absence of any casual outings, was clearly noticeable.

I chuckled, trying to sound nonchalant. "Guys, the dude is rich beyond your imagination. You think we're just going to pop down to the corner for a burger? We took a private chopper just to visit his mother's mansion for a dinner. His 'casual' is probably a five-star experience with a security detail. It's just a different world, you know? Not exactly conducive to spontaneous street food adventures."

Maya's eyes widened, a mischievous glint returning. "Oh, come on, Raphael! You can't just drop a bomb like that and not give us the full story. And more importantly…" She leaned forward, a playful challenge in her voice. "Why don't you call him? Right now. Let's meet the elusive Saint of Ascaria. We're practically neighbors while filming, after all. It's time for the legend to become… dinner company." Finn chuckled in agreement, his earlier awkwardness completely forgotten in the face of this unexpected opportunity for intrigue. The ball was squarely in my court, and the prospect of introducing Levi to my film crew filled me with a cold dread. This was a line I desperately didn't want to cross.

"Oh my god, Maya. Really? Why?" I said, trying to inject a note of playful exasperation into my voice. "Also," I leaned in conspiratorially, lowering my voice, "he is handsome beyond belief, okay? Like, unfairly so. The last thing I need is my entire film crew drooling over my husband all night. It's enough dealing with the paparazzi; I don't need competition at the dinner table too." I offered a wry smile, hoping the combination of mock horror and possessive jealousy would deter her. The thought of Levi in this casual setting, subjected to the curious gazes of my colleagues, made my skin crawl.

Maya laughed, undeterred. "Oh, come on, Raphael! A little eye candy never hurt anyone. Besides, think of the stories! 'Dinner with the Saint of Ascaria!' We'd be legends on set." She nudged me playfully. "And who knows? Maybe he's got some insights into the whole 'old money vibes' thing we were discussing the other night. It could be method acting research!"

Finn chimed in, his curiosity clearly piqued. "Yeah, Raphael! It would be epic!”

Their persistence was starting to wear me down. They saw it as a fun, slightly outrageous opportunity, completely oblivious to the complex and potentially dangerous reality of my relationship with Levi.

I sighed dramatically, running a hand through my hair. "Look, he probably won't even answer his phone right now, knowing him. He's probably brokering some massive deal. But if, and I mean a massive if, he actually deigns to grace us with his presence, you both gotta promise me something." I leaned forward, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Do not get charmed by him, okay? Seriously. The guy has a charisma level that should be illegal. I got the dibs on him, alright? No swooning." I tried to inject a lighthearted tone into my demand, hoping it would mask the genuine anxiety churning within me.

Maya threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, Raphael, please! As if we could steal the Saint of Ascaria right out from under your nose. Consider us warned. No excessive swooning. Though a little respectful admiration is allowed, right?" She winked, clearly amused by my possessiveness.

Finn nodded eagerly. "Yeah, man, we get it. He's your ridiculously handsome, powerful husband. We'll be on our best behavior. Promise. Now, are you actually going to call him, or are you just teasing us with the possibility of a saintly sighting?" He reached for my phone, a playful glint in his eyes. "Come on, let's make the call."

They clearly didn't believe Levi would actually come, seeing it more as a fun dare. But the thought of him potentially answering, of his cold voice cutting through the warm restaurant chatter, filled me with a sense of impending doom. I hesitated, my fingers hovering over my phone.

And I called him.

My heart hammered against my ribs as the phone rang, the cheerful restaurant sounds fading into a muffled background. Each ring felt like a step closer to a potential disaster. When Levi's cool, measured voice finally answered, a wave of nervous energy shot through me.

"Levi," I began, trying to sound casual despite the tremor in my voice, "things kinda got out of hand here. My friends from the set… they're curious, and they kind of want to meet you. Are you… by any chance… available?"

There was a brief pause on the other end, a silence that felt heavy with unspoken questions and potential disapproval.

Then, Levi's voice, smooth and dangerously calm, cut through the line. "Meet them? Why do they wish to meet me? Have you been discussing me? Be forthright, Raphael. Depending on your answer, my availability may vary… significantly."

My heart pounded in my chest. I forced a light, airy tone into my voice, hoping to mask the tremor of fear that ran through me. "They just wanna meet my husband, you know? You're this… legendary figure on set, and they're just curious. I'll send you the location. It would be really nice to see you here, Levi."

The "really nice" felt like a desperate plea, a silent message that I hoped he would understand.

Levi's voice, when it finally came, held a note of something akin to amusement, though it didn't quite reach his usual cool tone. "Pulla, do you really want me to be there?"

A small, vulnerable truth slipped out before I could stop it. "Yeah," I murmured into the phone, my gaze dropping from Finn and Maya's curious faces. "I miss you."

A beat of silence hung in the air, thick with unspoken complexities. Then, Levi's voice, now softer, a low rumble that sent a strange shiver through me, replied, "As you wish."

It wasn't the dismissive tone I had initially expected, nor was it the overly enthusiastic agreement he sometimes feigned. It was something else, a quiet acknowledgment of my vulnerability, perhaps even a hint of… compliance?

I offered Finn and Maya a wry smile, a nervous energy bubbling beneath the surface. "Alright, I called him," I announced, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "He will come. Happy?"

Their reactions were a mixture of disbelief and excitement. Maya gasped, her eyes wide. "He's actually coming? The Saint of Ascaria is gracing our humble presence?" Finn, equally astonished, let out a whoop of delight. "Dude, you actually did it! Boris is going to owe me so much money!"

A wave of disbelief washed over me, quickly followed by a surge of panic. Shit. He was actually coming. The Saint of Ascaria, the man who moved in rarefied circles of power and influence, was actually going to join us for a casual dinner in this bustling, ordinary restaurant. With Finn, the slightly awkward camera operator, and Maya, the costume designer. With my friends.

Levi in this setting felt like a magnificent, exotic bird suddenly dropped into a flock of pigeons. Would he be polite? Would he be condescending? And what would Finn and Maya make of him, of his intense presence and the subtle power that seemed to radiate from him even over a phone call?

Then after a while the restaurant door swung open, and a hush seemed to fall over the immediate vicinity, as if an unseen current had momentarily stilled the lively murmur of conversation. Even the clatter of plates seemed to soften. Standing in the doorway was Levi.

He wasn't what I'd call dressed down. Even in what appeared to be casual wear – a dark, impeccably tailored jacket over a charcoal knit shirt – he exuded an aura of effortless power and undeniable magnetism. His gaze, sharp and intelligent, scanned the room with a practiced ease, before settling directly on our corner booth.

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his features when his eyes met mine – perhaps surprise, perhaps a hint of something else. Then, a subtle, almost imperceptible shift, and the familiar, controlled charm flickered to life. A small, polite smile touched his lips as he began to move towards our table, his presence drawing the attention of more than a few curious onlookers. The air in our corner of the restaurant suddenly felt charged, the ordinary replaced by the extraordinary.

The Saint of Ascaria had arrived.

As Levi approached our booth, the subtle hum of the restaurant seemed to return, though with a noticeable undercurrent of hushed whispers and sideways glances.

Reaching our table, he offered a polite nod to Finn and Maya, his eyes briefly meeting theirs before settling back on me. "Raphael," he said, his voice a low, resonant baritone that somehow managed to cut through the surrounding noise without being loud. A hint of a smile played on his lips. "You mentioned dinner with friends. Forgive my tardiness; a last-minute… matter required my attention."

He pulled out the chair opposite me, his movements precise and economical. As he sat, his gaze flicked back to Finn and Maya, a carefully cultivated warmth entering his expression. "It's a pleasure to finally meet the people who have the privilege of working alongside my husband. Raphael speaks of you both with… fondness."

Fondness. It wasn't exactly effusive praise, but it wasn't dismissive either. It was Levi, carefully calibrating his interaction, observing, assessing.

Maya recovered first. A wide, genuine smile spread across her face. "The pleasure's all ours, Mr. Blake," she said, her tone warm and welcoming, though I detected a flicker of intrigued curiosity in her eyes. "Raphael's told us so much… well, you know. Husband stuff."

Finn, still looking slightly awestruck, managed a more stammered greeting. "Uh, hi, Mr. Blake. Finn, uh, camera department. Big fan… of your… uh… philanthropic work."

Levi's smile widened slightly, a practiced charm that somehow felt both genuine and slightly distant. "Please, call me Levi," he said, his gaze moving smoothly between Maya and Finn. "And thank you, Finn. Philanthropy is… a necessity. Though I imagine Raphael keeps you both far more entertained." He directed a pointed look at me.

The initial awkwardness began to dissipate, replaced by a cautious curiosity. Levi, despite his formidable presence, was making an effort to engage, to bridge the gap between his world and theirs. But beneath the polite conversation, I could sense the undercurrents – their fascination with him, his subtle assessment of them, and my own growing anxiety about what this unexpected convergence might mean. This "normal dinner" was anything but.

The conversation flowed, albeit with a noticeable shift in tone. Maya, emboldened by Levi's surprisingly approachable demeanor, peppered him with questions about his work, carefully avoiding anything too personal or related to the rumors surrounding our marriage. Levi, in turn, offered concise yet engaging answers, showcasing his sharp intellect and vast knowledge.

Finn, still a little starstruck, mostly listened, interjecting with occasional nods of agreement or awestruck comments. He seemed particularly fascinated by Levi's description of a recent research breakthrough, his initial awkwardness slowly giving way to genuine interest.

As the evening progressed, a fragile sense of normalcy began to settle over the table. Laughter punctuated the conversation, and the initial tension seemed to ease. For a fleeting moment, it almost felt like a genuine dinner with friends, albeit one with a remarkably charismatic and powerful guest of honor. But beneath the surface, I remained acutely aware of the precariousness of the situation, the unspoken questions that still lingered, and the ever-present awareness of the complex web of secrets and lies that underpinned my relationship with the man sitting beside me. This unexpected harmony felt fragile, like a delicate glass figurine that could shatter at any moment.

Maya leaned forward, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Levi," she began, her tone now more direct, though still respectful, "Raphael mentioned you two took a private chopper to visit your mother's mansion. That sounds… quite something. What's it like, having a family estate like that?" Finn leaned in, equally interested.

Fuck my mouth.

"Ah, yes. My mother lives on an island," he explained, his tone matter-of-fact, as if discussing the most mundane of travel arrangements. "Therefore, we could take a car, drive to a port, and then use a boat, which would take several hours. Or," he paused, his gaze flicking briefly to me, "we could simply use the air. So, we used the air."

Maya and Finn exchanged wide-eyed glances, a mixture of awe and amusement on their faces.

"Guys, it was also my first time on a chopper, okay?" I interjected, trying to inject a bit of relatable awkwardness into the conversation and steer it away from the sheer scale of Levi's wealth. "I was practically glued to the window the whole time, like a kid on their first airplane ride. Levi was probably trying to conduct a serious business call over the headset while I was pointing out cows from a thousand feet up."

My attempt at levity seemed to work, breaking the spell of awestruck silence. Maya chuckled. "I can just picture that! Saint of Ascaria trying to close a deal while Raphael is yelling about fluffy sheep." Finn grinned, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Levi, to my surprise, didn't seem bothered by my interruption. A small smile played on his lips as he looked at me. "Raphael has a… unique perspective on air travel," he said dryly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "He found the livestock particularly fascinating."

The conversation flowed again, this time with a lighter, more bantering tone. Maya and Finn, perhaps realizing the absurdity of comparing their lives to Levi's, seemed to relax, their curiosity now tinged with a healthy dose of humor. They asked more questions, not just about his wealth, but about his work, his travels, and even his opinions on art and culture.

Levi, for his part, remained engaged, offering thoughtful answers and even occasionally turning the questions back on them. He was, I realized with a growing sense of unease, effortlessly charming. He had a way of making them feel seen, of acknowledging their perspectives even while inhabiting a completely different reality.

Maya leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. "Levi," she began, her tone dropping slightly, as if about to broach a delicate subject. "There's been… well, some talk on set. Rumors, you know how it is. About your marriage to Raphael. Some people… they think it was a contract. Is there any truth to that?"

Finn's eyes widened, and I felt my own breath catch in my throat.

Levi's gaze softened, a practiced sincerity entering his eyes as he turned to Maya. "My dear Maya," he said, his voice dropping to a warm, almost intimate tone, "the moment I met Raphael, across a crowded room, I knew our connection was something… destined. To reduce such a powerful bond, the profound and immediate understanding that sparked between us, to a mere contractual agreement is frankly insulting to the depth of our feelings for one another."

He reached across the table, his hand covering mine. His touch was cool yet reassuring. He looked directly at Maya, his expression earnest. "Our marriage is built on love, on a connection that transcends the mundane. Rumors, as you said, are just that – whispers in the wind with no bearing on the truth of what Raphael and I share."

The perfect blend of wounded sincerity and unwavering devotion. It was a lie, a beautifully crafted illusion designed to dispel any doubts. And judging by the slightly awestruck expressions on Finn and Maya's faces, it was working perfectly.

Maya’s expression softened. "Oh," she said, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "I… I didn't mean to pry. It's just the gossip on set can get a bit wild." She glanced at Finn, who nodded in agreement, looking slightly sheepish.

Levi offered a gentle smile, his hand still resting on mine. "Understandable. The nature of your industry, I presume. But please, put those rumors to rest. My relationship with Raphael is the most precious thing in my life." He squeezed my hand lightly.

As the night finally drew to a close and Levi signaled for the bill, the earlier awkwardness seemed to have completely vanished. Maya and Finn were genuinely impressed by him, their initial curiosity seemingly satisfied by his smooth reassurances. Walking out of the restaurant and into the cool night, I couldn't help but feel a sense of detached disbelief. The "normal dinner" had ended, leaving behind a lingering sense of unease and the unsettling realization of just how easily he could manipulate perception.

...

The ride back home was silent. Levi was watching the flickering lights of the city the whole ride.

As the door clicked shut behind us, sealing us in the silence of the penthouse, I finally broke the tense quiet. "How… was the dinner for you, Levi?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I avoided his gaze, my fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of my shirt.

Levi finally turned, his gaze sharp and direct, pinning me where I stood. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips, but it held no warmth. "Pulla," he said, his voice low and steady, "is that fear I detect?"

He knew I was uneasy, aware of the performance he had given, and perhaps even angry about the lie he had so effortlessly spun.

"Yeah, kinda," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. I finally met his gaze, trying to project a semblance of calm despite the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. "But still," I continued, trying to shift the focus, "it was nice to just… be with my friends. Have a normal dinner, without the flashing lights and the constant feeling of being watched."

Levi's gaze intensified, a flicker of something unreadable dancing in his deep-set eyes. "After feeling the constant rush of adrenaline that accompanies my world, it is understandable that you might occasionally search for the mundane, Pulla," he conceded, his tone smooth and analytical. "But I am duly curious. This 'normal' dinner, as you put it… was it truly more fulfilling than the time we have shared, the experiences we have… spent together?"

“Wait, Levi, are you jealous?”

He chuckled softly, a low sound that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Jealousy, as you know, is a feeling of unhappiness and anger because someone has something or someone that you want. It is not precisely what I 'feel,' no. You do not 'belong' to me, obviously. Such primitive concepts are beneath us. However," his gaze darkened slightly, "it is true that I am… envious. Envious of the ease with which you seem to connect with these… ordinary individuals. Envious of the simple pleasure you derived from their unremarkable company."

"They are fun, Levi," I elaborated, trying to sound nonchalant, as if explaining a simple preference. "Easy to be around. We talk shit about the ridiculousness of the director, gossip about who's secretly dating who in the crew, make stupid, inane jokes that have no deeper meaning whatsoever. There's no hidden agenda, no power plays, no… expectations beyond sharing a laugh and some mediocre food."

Levi took another step closer, his gaze intense, almost clinical. "My Pulla," he murmured, the pet name now carrying a hint of something akin to detached fascination, "why do these… squishy meat and bones, these easily crushable bugs, appeal to you so much? I am genuinely curious. What is it about their fleeting, fragile existence that holds such… allure?" He tilted his head slightly, his eyes searching mine as if I held the answer to a complex equation he couldn't quite solve.

"Before you delve too deeply into your… biological analysis, Levi," I interjected, meeting his intense gaze with a newfound steadiness, "I have something else to ask. Are you envious of me? Of my ability to simply be around other people, to laugh and have fun without any hidden agendas, without the constant undercurrent of power plays or… your particular brand of 'expectations'?"

I watched his expression, searching for any flicker of genuine emotion beneath the cool, analytical facade. The admission of envy regarding Finn and Maya was surprising, but the idea of him being envious of me, of something so fundamentally human and simple, felt almost revolutionary.

Levi's expression remained impassive for a long moment, his eyes locked on mine, unblinking. Then, a slow, almost imperceptible shift occurred. A flicker of something akin to… vulnerability? Or was it merely a masterful manipulation?

"No, Pulla," he finally said, his voice low and measured, each word carefully chosen. "I am not envious of you. The freedom you find in their simple company is something I relinquished long ago."

He took another step closer, his gaze intense. "But I am envious of them. Envious of how easily they can draw your attention, how readily you share your time and energy with them. They do not understand the privilege of your presence in their lives, yet they obtain it with such… ease. And you," his voice dropped slightly, "you grant them that access, that power, without demanding anything in return. That… I confess, evokes a certain… disquiet within me. A feeling that borders on envy, yes."

"So, you're saying you wish you could have that kind of easy connection with people?" I asked, my voice tinged with a genuine, albeit surprised, curiosity. "That you feel like you always have to 'demand' something in return for your presence? That's… surprisingly sad, Levi."

The idea that Levi might actually envy the simple human connection I shared with Finn and Maya was unsettling, a glimpse into a potential loneliness I had never considered. It made his possessiveness feel less like a display of power and more like a desperate attempt to hold onto the few genuine connections he had, however twisted they might be.

"Isolation is a byproduct of… certain echelons. Do you truly find such profound fulfillment in their… banality, Raphael? In gossip and inane jokes? Is that truly preferable to the… complexities we navigate together?"

"Honestly, Levi? Yeah. It was… nice. Just talking about nothing important, no hidden agendas lurking beneath every word, no subtle power plays dictating the flow of conversation. Just people being people. Eating, drinking, talking about silly things, sharing a laugh over something utterly meaningless."

Levi's expression remained thoughtful, his gaze unwavering. "Well," he said, his voice low and devoid of any discernible emotion, "I confess, I did not experience this… 'joy' you describe. It was, for me, another exercise in social calibration. Another day requiring the careful application of a devoted husband's mask, diligently learning and reading the subtle shifts in the table's mood, and acting accordingly to maintain equilibrium."

A faint air of melancholy seemed to emanate from him. "You, Raphael," he continued, his gaze softening slightly, "were born with a fundamental human function, this innate capacity for simple connection and uncomplicated enjoyment. It is a function that I fundamentally lack."

"Look, Levi," I said softly, reaching out a hand, hesitating just before touching his arm. "You met them, right? Do you remember, back then, a lifetime ago it feels like, when I said you would find people who would accept you for who you are? Maybe… maybe they would. Maybe they would even understand… this."

Taking a breath, I continued, my voice gaining a touch more strength. "And if it's any consolation… look at me. After every cruel word, every calculated manipulation, your grand schemes that terrify me… I'm still here. Still trying to understand you. Still wanting to be here, with you. And while it's true, you lack empathy, and you've walked a dark path, maybe for your own twisted amusement or for some long-sought revenge… I'm still trying, Levi."

I finally let my hand rest on his arm, a tentative offering. "So… want to have another dinner with my friends? Again?"

Levi's gaze flickered down to my hand resting on his arm, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he spoke. "If it is your wish, Pulla," he said, his voice surprisingly level, "I will comply. You are, as always, free to do as you please in such matters. Also," he added, his eyes meeting mine again, a hint of something akin to wry amusement in their depths, "next time, you do not have to be quite so… terrified of calling me out for a simple dinner."

My heart sank slightly at his words. "No, no, Levi," I countered, pulling my hand back. "It's not just about what I wish. It's about you trying, okay? Trying to… connect in a different way."

He sighed softly, a sound that held more weariness than emotion. "Ah, Pulla… you cannot instill empathy in a man after three decades of existence devoid of it. You cannot fundamentally change the wiring of a brain such as mine. It is… insulting that you do not yet see that."

“I just… Don’t want you to be lonely.”

A surprising warmth spread through me where his lips had touched my forehead, a fleeting gesture of unexpected tenderness. "Your sentiment is appreciated, Pulla," he murmured, his voice softer than usual. "And while the dinner itself was, shall we say, an exercise in… observing the rudimentary joys of humanity, and frankly did not offer me any personal satisfaction… we can have another. Perhaps," a hint of his usual control returned, "I might suggest an alternative venue for such… anthropological outings next time."

A sliver of hope flickered within me. "You mean that, Levi?" I asked, my voice laced with a cautious optimism. "You really want to have another dinner with them?"

His gaze met mine, direct and unwavering. "Why would I lie, Pulla?" he replied, his tone matter-of-fact. "While the experience was…novel, your desire for it is evident. And as I have said, your happiness, in its own way, is… relevant."

…

The acrid scent of the cigarette mingled with the dusty air outside my trailer as I took a long drag, the nicotine offering a momentary reprieve from the on-set chaos. I spotted Maya and Finn a short distance away, their heads bent together in quiet conversation. A sense of weary camaraderie drew me towards them.

"Hey," I said, exhaling a plume of smoke.

Maya turned, a bright smile on her face. "Hey yourself! Rough morning?"

Finn nodded in sympathy. "That crane shot was a beast. We almost took out half the extras."

"Oh, yeah," I agreed, taking another drag of my cigarette. "What was that choreography, Finn? I swear, for a historical drama, if this keeps up, I am gonna pass out.”

Maya laughed, adjusting the scarf around her neck. "Tell me about it! I saw poor Emma nearly trip over her own ridiculously long gown. It was like watching a very elegant, very stressed flamingo trying to take flight."

Finn chuckled. "Yeah, and Sam looked like he was about to sneeze his way through the entire battle sequence. Method acting, I guess?" He grinned, then glanced at me. "So, you surviving the marriage okay?"

I took a final drag of my cigarette and stubbed it out, a wry smile playing on my lips. "Yeah… about that," I said, meeting Finn's knowing gaze. "Something kinda… expected, in a Levi sort of way, happened. He wants to have another dinner with you two."

Maya's eyebrows shot up, her initial amusement replaced by a mixture of surprise and intrigue. "He wants to? Seriously? After last time?"

Finn looked equally surprised. "Huh. Well, alright then. What brought that on?" He glanced at Maya, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "Did you two have some kind of… breakthrough?"

I shook my head, a small, weary smile on my face. "Not really a breakthrough, no. More like… Levi being Levi. He's… observing, I think. Trying to understand… something." I trailed off, not wanting to delve too deeply into the complexities of my husband's mind with Finn and Maya.

"The problem is," I continued, changing the subject slightly, "he wants me to pick a venue this time. Somewhere 'suitable,' whatever that means in Saint of Ascaria-speak. So, I need some ideas. Somewhere… nice, but not stuffy. Somewhere that won't make Finn feel like he needs to wear a tie and Maya feel like her tattoos are a diplomatic incident." I gestured vaguely, hoping they would understand the delicate balance I was trying to strike. "Any thoughts?"

Maya's suggestion was immediate and practical. "Why not your place, Raphael? We can order in some decent food, blast some questionable music, drink whatever we want, and just… be ourselves. No need to worry about stuffy atmospheres or Levi feeling like he's on display at the Museum of Ancient Artifacts." She grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Finn nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, that sounds perfect! Casual, comfortable, no pressure. We can even play some ridiculous board games if the mood strikes." He looked at me expectantly. "What do you think, Raphael? Your place?"

Shit. What?

"I… I…" I stammered, the words catching in my throat. "That… that's a really nice idea, guys. Really. But… I think I need to ask him first. You know… see what he has in mind for 'suitable'." The excuse sounded weak even to my own ears, but the thought of unilaterally inviting them to penthouse without gauging Levi's reaction filled me with a sudden, sharp anxiety.

My heart pounded against my ribs as I turned slightly away from Finn and Maya, pretending to adjust my earpiece while I quickly dialed Levi's number. The phone rang twice before he answered, his voice cool and composed as always.

"Raphael," he acknowledged, the single word carrying a weight of expectation.

"Levi… about the dinner," I began, my voice barely above a whisper, trying to sound casual despite the tremor of anxiety running through me. "Finn and Maya… they suggested that we meet at our place. You know… the penthouse." I held my breath, waiting for his reaction, bracing myself for a swift and decisive rejection.

Unlawfully taken from NovelBin, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“I understand. Do inform your friends about the utmost secrecy of our address, and please make them comply with the security procedures.”

A wave of relief, mixed with a fresh undercurrent of unease, washed over me. "Okay," I replied, my voice slightly steadier. "Utmost secrecy regarding the address. And yes, I'll make sure they comply with all security procedures."

"See that they do, Pulla," Levi's tone remained firm, brooking no argument. "I will arrange their transportation and the catering. Ensure they are informed of the time once I finalize it."

He hung up without another word, leaving me standing by my trailer, the midday sun beating down on me. So, it was happening. Dinner at the penthouse. His way, of course, with his rules and his arrangements. I turned back to Finn and Maya, a strained smile on my face. "Well," I said, "it looks like dinner at my place is a go. Levi will… handle the details. He will send you a car, and you will be searched thoroughly by security, guys. Sorry about being… you know… famous.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Maya's face, quickly followed by a wry smile. "Searched thoroughly by security? Well, that's one way to make a girl feel special," she quipped, exchanging an amused glance with Finn.

Finn, however, looked slightly more apprehensive. "Uh, searched? Like… patted down and everything?" He ran a hand through his hair nervously.

I winced apologetically. "Yeah, guys. I'm really sorry. It's… standard procedure with Levi. He's… protective of his privacy, and our security is pretty intense. Think of it as a very exclusive club with a strict entry policy. And please, please don't mention the address to anyone. Seriously."

Maya placed a reassuring hand on Finn's arm. "Hey, it's alright," she said, her tone surprisingly understanding. "We get it. You guys live in a different universe. Think of it as an adventure! We'll get the full Saint of Ascaria experience."

Finn managed a weak smile. "Yeah, okay. Adventure. As long as they don't find my lucky socks… they're pretty holey." He still looked a little uneasy, but Maya's attempt at levity seemed to have helped.

Despite their reassurances, a knot of anxiety remained in my stomach. This dinner felt less like a casual get-together and more like an impending diplomatic summit between two vastly different worlds. And I was stuck in the middle, hoping desperately that no one would say or do anything to trigger a diplomatic incident.

"Before we go with that, guys," I said, my voice a little more serious, "you should probably know… our penthouse is, well, it's the highest occupied room in the capital. Like, really high up. So, if either of you has even a slight fear of heights… now would be the time to mention it."

"Oh, god, Raphael, are you actually flaunting your ridiculously luxurious lifestyle right now?" she teased, nudging me with her elbow.

I shrugged, a sheepish grin spreading across my own face. "Kinda, yeah," I admitted. "Just… trying to give you fair warning. Don't want anyone freaking out when the elevator doors open and you realize you're practically in the clouds."

…

The next two days were a blur of filming and the low hum of anticipation for the impending dinner. Levi and I navigated our usual dynamic – polite inquiries about my day on set, brief discussions about the upcoming charity gala that loomed on the social horizon, and an underlying tension that neither of us fully addressed. I had, as requested, provided Levi with Maya and Finn's address, the act feeling strangely formal, like submitting coordinates for an incoming envoy.

Finally, the evening arrived. The capital skyline glittered outside the panoramic windows of the penthouse as the designated time approached. I felt a familiar knot of anxiety in my stomach, a potent cocktail of hoping for a pleasant evening and bracing for potential awkwardness. The security downstairs had been subtly reinforced, a silent reminder of the extraordinary circumstances surrounding this seemingly ordinary dinner.

The doorbell chimed, a discreet melody that echoed through the spacious penthouse. Levi, looking effortlessly elegant in a crisp white shirt and black trousers – a deliberate lack of formality that still exuded an air of quiet command – raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow in my direction. I, in my comfortable sweater, felt a slight disconnect between my casual attire and the underlying tension of the evening.

"They have arrived," Levi stated simply, his gaze already moving towards the entrance.

I took a deep breath, trying to project an air of relaxed normalcy that I certainly didn't feel. "Yeah," I replied, forcing a smile. "Here we go."

The security detail opened the door to reveal Finn and Maya. They looked a little wide-eyed, taking in the breathtaking view and the sheer scale of the living space. True to their word, they hadn't dressed formally. Maya wore a stylish but comfortable jumpsuit, and Finn had opted for a smart casual shirt and jeans. They both clutched small bags, looking a mixture of impressed and slightly overwhelmed. The "diplomatic summit" was officially underway.

"Welcome," Levi said, his voice polite and surprisingly devoid of the usual cool detachment. He offered a small smile. "Please, come in." He gestured towards the expansive living area with a sweep of his hand.

Finn and Maya exchanged a quick glance before stepping inside, their eyes darting around, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased the glittering cityscape, the minimalist yet luxurious furnishings, and the subtle air of wealth that permeated the space.

"Wow, Raphael wasn't kidding," Maya breathed out, her gaze fixed on the view. "This is… something else."

Finn nodded in agreement, looking slightly awestruck. "Yeah, man. This is… incredible." He carefully avoided touching anything, as if afraid it might shatter.

I stepped forward, trying to bridge the slight awkwardness. "Hey guys," I said, offering them a reassuring smile. "Glad you made it. Come on in, make yourselves at home… as much as you can, I guess?" I gestured towards the plush sofas. "Drinks are on the way. Levi arranged everything."

Levi inclined his head slightly. "Indeed. Please, make yourselves comfortable. I trust the journey was satisfactory?" His gaze flickered between Finn and Maya, a subtle assessment in his eyes.

A uniformed server entered the living room, carrying a tray laden with an assortment of drinks and small, elegant canapés. Levi gestured towards it. "Please, help yourselves. There is something for everyone, I believe."

Finn cautiously reached for a glass of what looked like sparkling water, while Maya eyed the colorful canapés with more enthusiasm. "Ooh, these look fancy," she commented, picking one up. "What exactly is this?"

"Foie gras with fig jam," Levi replied smoothly. "A small indulgence."

Maya's eyebrows shot up. "Foie gras? Fancy indeed." She took a tentative bite, her expression shifting from curiosity to surprise and then to something akin to delight. "Okay," she admitted, "that's actually really good."

Finn, meanwhile, was still gazing at the view. "You can see the whole city from up here," he murmured, almost to himself. "It's like… being on top of the world."

"It has its advantages," Levi conceded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He turned to me. "Raphael, perhaps you could offer our guests a tour of the… common areas?" It was a subtle way of allowing Finn and Maya to take in the spectacle without him having to directly engage in small talk.

"Sure," I said, relieved for a distraction. "Come on, guys. Let me show you the… layout." I led them away from Levi, hoping to create a more relaxed atmosphere as we explored the undeniably impressive, if somewhat sterile, surroundings of our penthouse.

I guided Finn and Maya through the expansive living room, pointing out the art pieces that adorned the walls – carefully curated and undoubtedly expensive, though I often felt little connection to them. We moved into the dining area, a sleek expanse of polished wood and minimalist design, the table set for a formal dinner that felt at odds with the casual nature of their attire.

"So, this is where the magic happens," Maya said, gesturing around the dining room with a playful flourish. "Do you guys have, like, super intense dinner parties with ambassadors and stuff?"

I quickly steered them towards the floor-to-ceiling windows again. "But the view is the real star of the show, right?" I said, hoping to redirect the conversation. "Especially when the sun sets."

Finn was still captivated. "It's insane. You can see all the way to the coast, can't you?"

As they continued to marvel at the panorama, I caught Levi's eye. There was a stillness in his gaze, an almost analytical curiosity as he observed my friends. He wasn't participating much in the conversation, but he was definitely watching, processing.

The initial awe eventually began to give way to a more relaxed, albeit still slightly subdued, atmosphere. As the server quietly refreshed their drinks, Maya, ever the icebreaker, turned to Levi. "So, Levi," she began, her tone casual but respectful, "Raphael tells us you're involved in… a lot of different things. What exactly keeps you busy when you're not, you know, being married to a movie star?"

Levi's lips quirked into a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Indeed. My interests are… varied. Primarily, my work involves strategic investment and development across several sectors. Think of it as building… foundations. Sometimes quite literally." He offered a vague but intriguing answer, revealing little of the specifics.

Finn, emboldened by Maya's directness, chimed in. "So, like… real estate and stuff?"

"Among other things," Levi replied smoothly. "My endeavors often involve navigating complex geopolitical landscapes and fostering innovation. It can be… demanding."

He spoke with an air of quiet authority, the subtle implication of immense power and influence hanging in the air without any overt boasting. Finn and Maya exchanged impressed glances.

The "anthropological outing" was providing them with a glimpse into a truly different species.

Levi continued, elaborating slightly on his "foundations."

"One significant area of focus currently is in the pharmaceutical sector. We are involved in the research and development of novel therapeutics, striving to address some of the more pressing global health challenges."

Maya’s eyes widened slightly. "Oh, wow. Like, finding cures for diseases and stuff?" she asked, a newfound respect in her voice.

"That is the ultimate aspiration," Levi confirmed, a hint of something that might have been genuine purpose flickering in his gaze. "Though the path from research to viable treatment is often long and arduous."

Finn, who had been listening intently, nodded. "That's… actually really important work," he commented, the earlier awkwardness replaced by a genuine interest. He glanced at me. "Raphael never mentioned you were, like, saving the world in your spare time."

"It doesn't really come up in conversation about lighting and blocking," I replied dryly.

A wry smile touched my lips as I watched Finn and Maya's awestruck expressions. If only they knew the full extent of who the "Saint of Ascaria" really was. Beyond the pharmaceutical breakthroughs and the strategic investments lay a network of influence that stretched into the darkest corners of the world. The image of Levi "saving the world" was a carefully curated facet of his public persona, a convenient distraction from the more… ethically ambiguous aspects of his empire.

Emboldened by the shift in conversation, Finn leaned forward slightly. "So, Levi," he began, his tone now more conversational, less overtly impressed, "how do you even get into something like that? Pharmaceuticals, I mean. Is it like… a family business or something?"

Maya chimed in, her natural curiosity piqued. "Yeah, and what's it like, dealing with all that? Is it super stressful?"

They were venturing into more personal territory now, their initial awe giving way to a genuine attempt to understand the enigmatic man sitting across from them. Their questions, though perhaps a little naive, were earnest, and I held my breath, curious to see how Levi would respond to their directness.

Levi’s response was measured, a blend of aristocratic pride and intellectual detachment. "My lineage," he stated, his voice carrying a subtle weight of history, "has been involved in the provision of medicine and the advancement of medical research for centuries. My ancestors established some of the earliest institutions of learning dedicated to the healing arts, training elite physicians and surgeons for generations. So yes, the pharmaceutical aspects of my current endeavors could be considered a 'family business,' albeit one that has evolved significantly over time."

He then shifted, a hint of personal interest entering his tone. "However, my involvement extends beyond mere inheritance. I have always possessed a keen fascination with the intricacies of chemistry, even as a child. It was a passion that led me to pursue its study at the Royal Academia. The company I now oversee is, in many ways, the culmination of that early curiosity and academic pursuit."

Finn and Maya listened intently, their initial curiosity evolving into a palpable respect. The image of the detached billionaire was slowly being replaced by that of a man with a deep-rooted history and a genuine intellectual passion.

"That's… really impressive," Finn commented, nodding slowly. "So you're, like, actually involved in the science side of things?"

"To a degree," Levi conceded. "While my current role is primarily strategic and managerial, I maintain a keen interest in the ongoing research and development. Understanding the fundamental science is crucial to effective leadership in this field."

Maya, ever pragmatic, chimed in. "So, no white lab coat and goggles then?" she asked with a playful grin.

A faint smile touched Levi's lips. "Not typically, no. Though I have been known to occasionally visit the laboratories. Curiosity, after all, has no dress code."

The conversation flowed more easily after that, touching on the challenges of scientific research, the ethical considerations of the pharmaceutical industry, and even a brief, slightly awkward exchange about the potential benefits of certain herbal remedies that Maya swore by. Levi, while maintaining his characteristic reserve, engaged with a level of genuine interest that surprised me. He even asked Finn about his aspirations as a director, listening attentively as Finn spoke about his passion for storytelling.

The transition to the dining table was seamless, the earlier awkwardness having largely dissipated. The table, a polished expanse of dark wood, was set with an understated elegance, the silverware gleaming softly under the subtle lighting. The dishes that followed were a testament to Levi's meticulous taste – a delicate balance of flavors and international haute cuisine, each course presented with artistic precision.

During the dinner, Maya asked. “Levi, lemme ask something. Isn’t Raphael so cute when he acts tough?”

A momentary hush fell over the table. My cheeks flushed crimson at Maya's unexpected and rather embarrassing question. I shot her a warning glance, hoping she hadn't crossed some invisible line.

Levi, however, didn't seem offended. A slow, almost contemplative smile spread across his lips, his gaze turning towards me. There was a flicker of something akin to amusement in his eyes. "Cute?" he mused, the word sounding foreign yet not entirely dismissive on his tongue. "There is a certain… defiance to Raphael's attempts at 'toughness,' yes. A charmingly ineffective resistance." He turned back to Maya, a subtle glint in his eyes. "It is often more… endearing than intimidating."

My face was probably the color of a ripe tomato. "Oh my God, Maya," I groaned, trying to inject some humor into my mortification. "Are you actively trying to embarrass me in front of my husband?" I shot her another pointed look, silently pleading for her to drop the subject before I completely dissolved into a puddle of awkwardness. This was exactly the kind of unpredictable social interaction I had been dreading.

Maya, completely unfazed by my discomfort, simply grinned wider and playfully nudged Levi with her elbow. "What?" she said innocently, her eyes twinkling. "He agrees, too!" She looked at Levi expectantly, clearly hoping he would elaborate on his earlier assessment.

Levi's lips curved into a subtle, almost private smile as he met Maya's expectant gaze. "Indeed," he confirmed, his eyes briefly flicking towards me with a hint of something akin to affection. "That is precisely why I often refer to him as Pulla.'"

Maya's eyebrows shot up in amusement. "'Pulla'? What's that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

A beat of awkward silence hung in the air before Finn, bless his well-meaning but slightly misguided heart, jumped in. "Uh… it's ancient… yeah, it means rabbit or bunny in the ancient Ascarian language."

Maya turned to Levi, a playful smirk on her face. "Levi," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement, "you're a nerd like Finn, too? With the whole ancient language thing?"

"While I appreciate Finn's attempt at linguistic explanation," Levi said, his tone dry but not unkind, "his etymology is… somewhat simplified." He turned back to Maya. "The term 'pulla' does indeed have roots in an ancient dialect, but its connotations are more nuanced than merely 'rabbit.' It speaks to a certain… spiritedness, a quickness of movement, and a perhaps unwarranted tendency towards… skittishness." His eyes flickered towards me again, a teasing glint in their depths. "The 'bunny' analogy is… a rudimentary approximation."

Maya chuckled, clearly enjoying this unexpected glimpse into Levi's personality. Finn, slightly deflated at being corrected on his ancient language skills, mumbled something about "close enough for government work."

"I am genuinely going to drop dead from embarrassment, okay?" I said, throwing my hands up in mock surrender. "Just… please stop. My fragile ego can only take so much teasing in one evening." I shot both Maya and Levi a pointed look, hoping they would take pity on my increasingly flushed complexion. The unexpected turn the conversation had taken was both mortifying and strangely… endearing. Seeing Levi engage in this kind of lighthearted banter, even at my expense, was a side of him I rarely witnessed.

Maya just grinned wider, clearly relishing my discomfort. "Oh, come on, Raphael," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "It's endearing! It means he cares... in his own, slightly archaic, bunny-referencing way."

Levi, however, seemed to take my plea for mercy into consideration. A hint of his usual reserve returned, though his lips still twitched slightly with amusement. "Very well, Pulla," he said, his gaze softening slightly as he looked at me. "We shall refrain from further… etymological explorations for the remainder of the evening. Your delicate sensibilities are, after all, a precious commodity."

His unexpected concession, delivered with that characteristic dry wit, actually made me laugh, the tension easing from my shoulders. Even Finn and Maya chuckled.

Levi turned his gaze towards Finn and Maya, a subtle intensity in his expression. "As a husband," he said, his voice low and deliberate, "I confess I am intrigued by the… dynamics of his professional life. You spend a considerable amount of time with him on set. Perhaps you could enlighten me as to his… demeanor in that environment? Is he as… spirited there as he is in his personal life?"

Maya's response was immediate and enthusiastic, her face softening into a genuine smile. "Oh, Raphael on set? He's absolutely lovely. So kind and patient with everyone, even when things get crazy. He always has a smile for the crew and remembers everyone's names. Honestly, he's a real ray of sunshine midst all the stress and long hours." She glanced at me, a warm fondness in her eyes. "He's a total professional, always prepared and focused, but he never lets it get to his head. He's just… genuinely nice."

Finn, however, offered a slightly different perspective, his brow furrowing in thought. "Yeah, he's great," he agreed, his tone a touch more reserved than Maya's effusiveness. "Professional, talented, no complaints there. But… there's also this intensity about him, you know? You remember the incident at the bar.”

Oh, fuck. The memory of that drunken night with Finn, the stupid comment I had made – "I'll know if you jerk off to me" – flooded back with mortifying clarity. Finn, you absolute idiot. Had alcohol completely eroded your sense of self-preservation? My eyes darted to Maya, silently pleading with her to intervene, to somehow derail this train wreck of a revelation before it reached its final, disastrous destination. Please, Maya, shut up. Do not give Levi this ammunition.

Levi's smile, the one he deployed to charm and disarm in equal measure, widened ever so slightly as he turned his full attention to Finn. "Oh?" he purred, swirling the scotch in his glass, the movement slow and deliberate. "What incident, Finn? Please, do elaborate. I find myself… intrigued."

My insides twisted into a knot of pure dread. Shut up, Finn. Shut up, Finn. For the love of all that is holy, do not open your mouth. My eyes flickered between Finn and Levi, a silent plea etched on my face.

Finn, oblivious or perhaps simply too tipsy to notice my frantic silent signals, took a sip of his wine, a slight flush creeping up his neck. He seemed to be considering how to phrase his story, a small, self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips, likely mistaking my wide-eyed panic for mere embarrassment.

Maya, however, seemed to sense the shift in the atmosphere. Her usual playful demeanor had receded, replaced by a look of cautious concern as she glanced from me to Levi and back to Finn. She opened her mouth as if to interject, but hesitated, perhaps unsure of the social dynamics at play.

Levi, meanwhile, maintained his serene smile, his gaze fixed intently on Finn, patiently waiting for him to speak. There was an unnerving stillness about him, a predator poised to strike.

Finn cleared his throat again, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. "Uh, yeah. It was just… a weird moment. We were all a bit drunk, and Raphael said something… kind of out there. It was just a joke, though. Nothing serious. Just one of those late-night, alcohol-fueled conversations that you look back on and cringe a little." He avoided direct eye contact with both Levi and me, his gaze flitting around the room as if searching for an escape route.

Levi turned his gaze towards me, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips. "Ah, Raphael and his 'out there' moments," he said, his tone light, almost conspiratorial. "One learns to expect the unexpected, wouldn't you agree, my dear? No doubt it was another display of his… singular charm." He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, inviting me to share in the slightly embarrassing anecdote.

"Oh, you know me," I said, attempting a self-deprecating chuckle. "Always keeping things interesting." Inside, however, my stomach was still churning. Levi's amusement felt a little too sharp, his observation a little too keen. He hadn't pressed Finn for details, but I knew that look in his eyes. He had registered the implication, the hint of something… intense.

Maya, jumped in to fill the slightly awkward silence. "Well, whatever it was, Raphael's got our loyalty. He's a good friend." She shot me a reassuring glance, clearly sensing my discomfort.

Finn, seizing the opportunity to escape the conversational cross hairs, nodded vigorously in agreement. "Yeah, what Maya said. Good friend. We've all had a few weird nights, right?" He offered a sheepish grin.

Levi's smile remained, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He turned back to his meal, the brief moment of levity seemingly over. "Indeed," he said, his tone becoming slightly more formal once more. "Friendship is a… valuable commodity."

The remainder of the evening passed with a veneer of polite conversation. The food was exquisite, the wine flowed smoothly, and Maya and Finn did their best to keep the atmosphere light. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that Levi's mind was elsewhere, subtly dissecting the information he had gleaned. His questions to Finn and Maya became more focused, probing their relationship with me, the duration of our friendship, and the nature of our interactions outside of the film set.

As the night finally drew to a close, and Levi's driver arrived to take Finn and Maya home, there was a genuine warmth in the air.

"Thanks so much for having us, Raphael," Maya said, giving me a genuine hug. "That was actually really lovely. And Levi, it was truly interesting meeting you." She offered him a sincere smile.

Finn clapped Levi on the shoulder. "Yeah, man. Seriously. Good food, good conversation. You're a lot cooler than I expected." He grinned.

Levi, in turn, offered a smile. "The pleasure was entirely mine. I found your perspectives… refreshing. Perhaps we can do this again sometime." He glanced at me, a softer expression in his eyes.

As I walked Finn and Maya to the elevator, they both squeezed my arm reassuringly. "He's alright, you know," Maya whispered. "A little… intense, maybe, but alright."

Finn nodded in agreement. "Yeah, man. Seems like you two are good together."

As I closed the door behind them, the silence of the penthouse felt heavy and charged. I turned to find Levi standing by the panoramic window, the city lights twinkling behind him, his silhouette stark against the vast expanse of glass.

"Interesting," was all he said, his voice low and thoughtful, not directed at me. The "anthropological outing" had concluded, and I had a sinking feeling that the Saint of Ascaria had just added several new specimens to his collection of observations. And I was chief among them.

I walked over to where Levi stood by the window, the city lights painting a glittering backdrop behind him. "So, Levi," I began, my tone cautious, "how did you find them? You seemed… engaged. Almost like you were actually having… fun." There was a hint of disbelief in my voice. The Levi I knew rarely let down his guard enough to genuinely enjoy casual social interaction, especially with people so outside his usual sphere.

Levi turned from the window, his gaze meeting mine. "They are… different. They lack the layers of artifice, the constant maneuvering for position that permeates my usual circles. They speak plainly, without hidden agendas."

He paused, considering his words carefully. "They are not nobles, politicians, the obscenely wealthy, nor do they possess any other form of conventional 'significance' in the way my world understands it. And you are correct," he continued, his tone becoming more direct, "it is quite clear that I have never truly immersed myself in a social dynamic such as this before."

He took a step closer, his gaze holding mine. "Before you allow yourself to cling to some sliver of hope that this experience might fundamentally alter my nature, let me be unequivocally clear: it will not. However," he conceded, a subtle warmth entering his voice, "Their genuine affection for you, their unpretentious camaraderie… it was… an interesting observation."

A small, hesitant smile touched my lips. "Interesting good, or interesting bad?" I asked, a sliver of hope flickering within me despite Levi's cautionary words.

He tilted his head slightly, considering. "Neither, Pulla. Simply… interesting. A data point. An opportunity to observe human interaction outside the rigid structures I typically inhabit. They care for you, Raphael. And that, in turn, makes them… worthy of my consideration." His gaze softened, a hint of something deeper flickering in his eyes. "Thank you for sharing them with me."

Just as a hopeful warmth bloomed in my chest, Levi's hand shifted, his grip firm as he cupped my butt, pulling me closer. His lips brushed against my ear as he lowered his voice to a husky whisper. "My dear pulla," he murmured, the possessive endearment sending a shiver down my spine, "tell me… how exactly did you manage to… 'scare' that Finn of yours?"

"Wha— Ugh, it was nothing, Levi," I stammered, a blush creeping up my neck. "Just… a stupid, dirty joke. You know how we are with each other. It was just… guy talk." I tried to sound nonchalant, waving my hand dismissively.

Levi's grip on my hip tightened slightly. "If it was merely a 'stupid, dirty joke' amongst friends, Pulla," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear, "why the lingering apprehension? You are rarely one to be easily embarrassed by… crude humor."

“Because it was embarrassing, okay? I was drunk said some weird bullshit.”

"Weird nonsense?" Levi repeated, his lips twitching slightly as if fighting back a smile. "Now you have truly piqued my interest, Pulla. What manner of 'weird nonsense' could possibly elicit such a… visceral reaction even in recollection?" He leaned in closer again, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and genuine curiosity. "Humor me, my dear. After such a surprisingly… enlightening evening with your friends, I find myself rather open to new forms of… human interaction." His hand on my hip remained firm, a silent encouragement – or perhaps a gentle demand – for me to elaborate.

“I may actually die if I say it out loud, stop pressing me.”

Levi chuckled softly, a low rumble in his chest that vibrated against my back. "Such a potent embarrassment? Now I am truly intrigued. Come now, Pulla," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear again. "Surely whatever 'weird nonsense' escaped your lips in a moment of inebriation cannot be so catastrophic as to threaten your very existence." His fingers gently traced the curve of my hip, a persuasive caress. "Indulge my curiosity. What could possibly be so mortifying?"

While Levi was gently stroking my ass, a light bulb flickered in my head. This was… This was an opportunity! To finally have Levi in an angry sex.

A slow smile spread across my face, a mischievous glint replacing the earlier embarrassment. "I am not saying," I declared, my voice firm despite the nervous flutter in my stomach.

Levi's grip tightened infinitesimally on my hip, a subtle warning that my defiance had been noted. His breath ghosted against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "Hm… Do I need to coax the truth out of you, pulla?" he murmured, the possessive endearment now carrying a different weight, a hint of controlled anticipation. The playful amusement in his voice was still there, but there was an undercurrent of something else, a flicker of the intensity I had hoped to ignite.

“Try me, I am not saying.”

"Such defiance, pulla?" Levi's voice was a low purr against my ear, his hand now tracing a slow, deliberate path along my spine. "A challenge, then?" The amusement in his tone had deepened, tinged now with a hint of something darker, something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. He turned me in his arms, his gaze locking with mine, a predatory glint in their depths. "Very well, pulla. Consider me… thoroughly intrigued by what secrets you are so determined to keep."

Yes! Yes, that was it!

“Well, if you are interested, I am going to my room. I will leave the door ajar for you.”

A slow, deliberate smile spread across Levi's face, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes but sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me nonetheless. He watched me, a predatory stillness in his gaze, as I turned and walked away. Each step was a deliberate provocation.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden silence of my room. I leaned against the cool wood of the door, taking a shaky breath. Okay, Raphael, think. You’ve got his attention, you’ve piqued his interest. Now, how do you fan those embers into a full-blown inferno?

What were his triggers? What would truly shatter that carefully constructed composure? It wasn't about being crude or vulgar; it was about striking at something deeper, something that challenged his control, his perception of our dynamic.

I quickly took a shower while waiting for him. The steam still clung to my skin as I emerged from the bathroom, the scent of sandalwood filling the air. The sight that greeted me sent a fresh wave of anticipation through my veins. Levi was indeed there, sitting on the edge of my bed, his usual impeccable attire replaced by a simple, dark silk robe that hinted at the powerful physique beneath. He wasn't looking at me, his gaze instead sweeping slowly around the room, taking in the personal touches that made this space mine – the scattered scripts on the nightstand, the framed photographs on the wall, the worn copy of Aethelgardian poetry on the shelf. There was a quiet intensity in his focus, an almost clinical observation, as if he were trying to decipher another puzzle.

He finally turned as he sensed my presence, his gaze lingering on the dampness of my hair and the soft robe I had hastily tied around myself.

"Enjoying the… ambiance?" I asked, my voice a low murmur, a hint of a challenge in my tone. I let my eyes drift slowly over his figure, lingering for a moment on the open neck of his robe.

As I was sliding the robe out, the look on his eyes immediately stilled me. That look. The look of ‘Don’t you dare’. The thrill of rebellion warred with a more primal instinct to obey.

“Why don’t you ever let me see you, you know naked? Do you have big scar, or something you don’t want me to see or something?”

My voice, though still carrying a hint of defiance, was softer now, tinged with a genuine curiosity that had always lingered beneath the surface of our relationship. His reluctance to be seen in such a vulnerable state had always been a subtle barrier between us, like the locked room in the old house. Was it simply a matter of privacy, or was there something more? A past trauma, a physical imperfection he couldn't reconcile with his meticulously crafted image?

"Raphael," he said, his voice low and measured, a hint of warning underlying the usual control, "if you slide my robe open, the dam will finally break. So, do not pry."

It wasn't a warning about physical intimacy, not in the way I had initially, perhaps wishfully, interpreted it. No, this was a pronouncement about something far more profound, far more intrinsic to Levi's very being.

"Well…" I murmured, my voice low and deliberately provocative, "tonight, it seems we both have secrets then, Levi." My gaze flickered from his intense eyes to his lips, those soft sculpted lips that could utter words of such cool command, such potent warning. Levi's gaze followed the path of my fingers along his jaw, his breath catching almost imperceptibly.

No, this was going into the wrong direction. My heart, ever the foolish romantic, was once again softening, wanting to bridge the gap with gentle understanding. But that wasn't the goal. I needed to see the fire, the raw intensity that Levi kept so tightly leashed. I needed to provoke him.

I pulled my hand away from his jaw, the sudden withdrawal creating a palpable shift in the atmosphere. My playful smile vanished, replaced by a deliberate coolness. "Perhaps you are right, Levi," I said, my voice now carrying a sharp edge. "Some secrets are best kept locked away. Especially when revealing them would mean acknowledging… weakness." My eyes flickered pointedly to his tightly controlled expression, the subtle clench of his jaw. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Levi's eyes, which had been dark with a simmering intensity, now flashed with a cold fury that made my breath catch in my throat. His hand, which had been gently holding mine, tightened abruptly, his grip bordering on painful. The transformation was instantaneous, the carefully constructed facade of the composed Saint of Ascaria cracking, revealing the raw power beneath.

His jaw clenched, the sculpted lines of his face hardening into an expression of pure, unadulterated rage. The silence in the room became heavy, charged with a volatile energy that felt both terrifying and exhilarating. This was it.

"Weakness?" he finally bit out, his voice low and dangerous, the controlled cadence finally fracturing. "You dare to speak to me of weakness, pulla?" The possessive endearment now sounded like a threat, a dark promise of retribution. The game had indeed changed. And I had just upped the ante.

Levi's grip on my hand tightened further, his knuckles bone-white. His gaze burned into mine, a raw, untamed fury swirling within their depths.

"You presume a great deal, Raphael," he continued, his voice dangerously low, each word carefully enunciated. "You see a carefully constructed order and mistake it for fragility. You perceive restraint as impotence. You are… mistaken."

He took a step closer, his imposing frame looming over me, the silk of his robe rustling with the movement. The playful amusement, the detached curiosity – all had vanished, replaced by a primal intensity that was both terrifying and undeniably magnetic.

"There is a power in control, Raphael," he hissed, his breath warm against my face. "A strength in knowing the boundaries and choosing when – and with whom – they are breached. Do not mistake my choices for limitations. Do you understand me?"

My breath hitched in my throat. The raw intensity radiating from Levi was unlike anything I had witnessed before. The carefully sculpted mask had shattered, revealing a force that was both terrifying and undeniably compelling. His grip on my hand, while painful, also sent a strange thrill coursing through me. This was what I had wanted, hadn't I? To see beyond the controlled facade, to touch the fire that burned beneath.

Keep pushing, Raphael.

“Stop threatening me over nothing, Levi.”

"Threatening?" Levi echoed, a sardonic smile twisting his lips. The raw fury from moments ago had receded, replaced by a chillingly controlled amusement. "My dear Raphael, consider it a… demonstration. A visual aid to ensure clarity. Was I unclear?"

I held up my wrist, the faint red marks left by his earlier grip. "Shut up, okay?" I said, my voice trembling slightly. "If that wasn't a threat, Levi, then what was it?"

Levi’s gaze flickered from my face to my wrist, his expression unreadable for a fleeting moment. Then, a muscle ticked in his jaw. The sardonic amusement vanished, replaced by a cold, hard intensity that sent a fresh wave of apprehension through me.

“Are you accusing me, Raphael?” His voice was low, dangerously soft, each word precise and laced with a chilling undercurrent. He took a slow step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “Are you suggesting that I would intentionally inflict harm upon you?”

My voice trembled slightly, but I held his gaze, refusing to back down. "What else am I supposed to think, Levi?" I gestured to my wrist, “Did you feel powerful? In control when you manhandled me? Hm?"

I saw a flicker of something in his eyes – a flash of anger, yes, but also something else, something that looked almost like… hurt?

He took another slow step towards me, closing the distance between us until I could feel the faint warmth radiating from his body. His eyes, dark and intense, searched mine, as if trying to decipher the true intent behind my words.

"Power," he finally echoed, his voice a low, resonant murmur that seemed to vibrate through the very air. "Control. These are not concepts I take lightly, Raphael. And they are certainly not to be confused with… base physicality."

He lifted his hand, his fingers hovering just above my wrist, not quite touching.

The raw display of Levi's barely contained power had been… impactful, but it hadn't ignited the kind of fire I had initially hoped for. The air was thick with tension, yes, but it was a tension laced with potential danger, not desire.

As his fingers hovered near my wrist, a different kind of awareness sparked within me. His restraint, the deliberate lack of contact, was a subtle form of control in itself. And perhaps… perhaps I could use that.

A slow, deliberate smile spread across my lips, softening the sharp edges of my earlier defiance. I lifted my own hand, gently guiding his hovering fingers to rest on my wrist, right over the faint red marks. My touch was light, almost a caress.

"Perhaps not base physicality, no," I murmured, my voice softer now, the challenge replaced by a hint of something more intimate. My gaze flickered from his hand on my wrist to his eyes, a silent invitation in their depths. "But there is a certain… undeniable intimacy in such a demonstration of control, wouldn't you agree, Levi?"

Levi's gaze remained fixed on where my hand now rested over his on my wrist. A flicker of surprise, quickly masked, crossed his features. "Intimacy?" he echoed, his voice a low murmur, the controlled intensity still present but now tinged with a hint of… bewilderment?

"Raphael," he said, his brow furrowing slightly, "it truly baffles me to think you can even conceive of such a notion in this moment. After your… accusations, after the clear display of what you perceived as 'manhandling'…" He paused, a hint of his usual sardonic amusement returning, though it seemed somewhat strained. "Your capacity for… unconventional interpretations continues to astound me, pulla."

“Yeah? It is the human will. Poking the bear.”

"A rather… apt analogy, Raphael. And a remarkably persistent one, I must concede."

He finally moved his hand, his fingers now gently interlacing with mine over my wrist. The contact was surprisingly tender. "Tell me, pulla," he murmured, his gaze softening slightly, "what is it you hope to achieve with this… persistent prodding?"

“I told you before, pure filth, two pigs wallowing in mud. It is obviously nice to see you with restrain, you are really thoughtful about safety and such but I just want more. Because it doesn’t feel like you enjoy it, you know?”

A shadow flickered across Levi's face, the amusement in his eyes momentarily dimming.

He paused, his thumb gently stroking the back of my hand. "You believe I do not… enjoy our intimacies? My restraint," he continued, his voice low and thoughtful, "is born not of disinterest, but of… respect. For you, for the boundaries that exist between us. I assure you, my thoughtfulness regarding your… safety is not a measure of my lack of desire."

How can someone be this dual? The thought struck me with the force of a physical blow, a jarring dissonance that shattered the fragile intimacy of the moment. How could this man, whose touch was surprisingly gentle, whose eyes held a flicker of vulnerability, be the same Levi who wielded such immense, terrifying power? The man who could, with a mere whisper, with a casual flick of his wrist, orchestrate the downfall of a nation, and leave countless lives in ruin.

The duality was staggering, almost incomprehensible. One moment, a tender caress, a hesitant admission of potential inadequacy in expressing his desires. The next, the chilling awareness of the absolute authority he commanded, the sheer force he held in check. It was like standing on the precipice of a serene lake, only to glimpse the monstrous depths teeming beneath the placid surface. A shiver that had nothing to do with desire ran down my spine. The man holding my face was capable of both tenderness and unimaginable cruelty. And I was willingly entwined with him.

Levi seemed to sense the shift in my mood, the sudden withdrawal into my own thoughts. His thumbs gently stroked my cheeks, his gaze searching mine with a renewed intensity.

"What troubles you, Raphael?" he murmured, his voice softer now. "You seem… distant."

How could I possibly articulate the terrifying dichotomy that was Levi? How could I explain the jarring juxtaposition of his gentle touch and the crushing weight of his power?

"It's just…" I began, my voice barely a whisper, "it's just sometimes… I forget."

"Forget what, pulla?" he prompted gently, his touch unwavering.

"Forget…" I swallowed hard, the words catching in my throat. "Forget who you truly are."

"And what truth do you see when you remember, Raphael?" His voice was low, devoid of its usual sardonic edge, almost… vulnerable.

"I see…" I began, my voice barely a whisper, searching for the honesty he seemed to be inviting. "I see a man of… immense power. A force of nature, capable of shaping the world in ways most people can't even imagine." I paused, gathering my thoughts. "And sometimes… that power is terrifying."

I looked directly into his eyes, seeking a flicker of understanding. "But then…" I continued, my voice softening again, "then you look at me like this… and I see something else. Something… almost… gentle."

The duality, the jarring contrast, was the very essence of Levi. And it was the enigma that held me captive.

A slow, deliberate smile spread across Levi's face, a genuine warmth finally reaching his eyes, chasing away the shadows of his earlier intensity. He leaned closer, his forehead resting against mine, his breath warm against my skin. "Then you must truly know, pulla," he murmured, his voice thick with a sincerity I rarely heard, "that there is no human I would ever see as I see you."

"I just wanted some angry sex, Levi," I confessed, a wry smile playing on my own lips, "and here we are. It's just… so you. So… us."