Cold Warmth

Lucian returned to his cold, desolate room, his hand still gripping the bloodstained shirt he had just taken off. The warmth on the fabric had long faded, leaving only the stiff, dried remnants of blood. With an air of indifference, he tossed it aside as if it were worthless.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his back resting against the chair, fingers digging into his knee. His deep, sharp eyes—like dagger points—held an unspoken turmoil he refused to acknowledge.

Never before had he been this distracted. In the business world, he was calculating and precise, each move meticulously planned, never a misstep. In the underworld, he was ruthless and cold, feared not only for his power but for his absolute lack of mercy. To him, people were nothing more than chess pieces—disposable, insignificant.

He had always been in control.

But there was one thing he could not control…

His own emotions.

———————————————

The next morning, before the sun had fully risen, Lucian was already awake. He dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his expression as cold as ever. But before leaving, he made his way to the kitchen, his deep voice steady as he ordered the servants:

— "Prepare a nutritious meal for him. If Aaron refuses to eat, report it to me immediately."

The servants could only bow their heads and obediently respond. They knew well that the one their master was referring to was none other than Aaron—the only person Lucian seemed to care about.

Lucian left the mansion for a business trip that would last several days. He couldn't personally look after Aaron, but he refused to let him lack anything. More importantly, if anything happened to Aaron, Lucian didn't know what he would do to those responsible.

Aaron woke up later than usual. As always, he got out of bed, put on loose-fitting clothes, and went downstairs for breakfast. But he was unaware that Lucian had already left for his trip.

Everything remained the same as the previous days—he was trapped in this mansion, unable to leave, with no one to talk to, and everything seemed like an endless cycle of repetition. He had gradually grown accustomed to the solitude, to the confinement.

But by nightfall, something felt different.

Before, every night like clockwork, Lucian would appear. He would step into Aaron's room, whether to impose control, issue commands, or even just to silently observe him. His presence was something inescapable, like the cold draft that seeped in whenever the door opened. Aaron never waited for him—he told himself that.

Yet tonight, as time passed and Lucian's shadow never appeared, there was an odd sense of emptiness.

Since when had he grown used to Lucian's presence?

It wasn't longing, just… a strange feeling.

Aaron sat still, his gaze lost in the empty space ahead, his mind blank. When the door unexpectedly opened, he instinctively turned his head. His heart gave the slightest jolt—only for a fleeting disappointment to settle when he saw that it was merely the butler.

The butler approached, placing a warm glass of milk on the table, his tone respectful:

— "Young master, please drink this."

Aaron said nothing, merely staring at the glass before him. After a while, his voice finally broke the silence, unnervingly calm:

— "Where is he?"

He didn't need to say a name—everyone knew who he was asking about.

The butler bowed his head slightly.

— "The master has left on a business trip, young master. If you'll excuse me."

With that, the butler quickly left the room, leaving behind an unsettling silence.

Aaron remained seated, eyes fixed on the untouched glass of milk. His face betrayed no emotion, but inside, there was an unexplainable feeling he couldn't quite place. It wasn't happiness, nor was it displeasure… it was simply the sense that something was missing.

Something that had unknowingly become a habit.

A habit he had never realized before.

———————————————

The next day, the mansion remained eerily silent.

Aaron stepped out of his room, but no matter where he went, all he could feel was an overwhelming emptiness. Was it because Lucian wasn't here that this place felt so hollow? Or had this grand mansion always been devoid of life from the very beginning?

By all logic, he was a captive. But to an outsider, it might seem like he was the true master of this place.

Lucian had not assigned anyone to watch over him—there were no guards at his door, no locks binding him. He was free to walk anywhere within the mansion's premises. A strange kind of freedom for someone held in captivity.

What exactly was Lucian thinking? Did he truly believe Aaron wouldn't try to escape? Or did he understand him too well—knowing that if Aaron dared to run, he would also have to face whatever Lucian was capable of?

Yet, despite being free to move around, there was nowhere for Aaron to go. So, he remained in his room, shutting himself away in the darkness.

Today, perhaps out of sheer boredom, or maybe just a desire for a change of scenery, Aaron decided to step outside. If Lucian had never forbidden it, then there was no reason for him to keep imprisoning himself.

It had been so long—he could no longer remember what the outside world looked like.

But the moment he stepped into the garden, he froze.

He had expected it to be just like the mansion—cold, lifeless, and void of any warmth. But it wasn't. The sight before him was completely different.

A world full of color.

The sky stretched vast and blue, with golden sunlight filtering through the thick canopy of trees, softening its intensity. A gentle breeze swept past, carrying the faint, soothing scent of flowers and grass. Before him lay a sprawling garden, filled with countless flowers in full bloom, their delicate petals swaying lightly in the wind, brimming with life.

Aaron gazed at the flowers, unable to hide the hint of fascination in his eyes. After days of being trapped in darkness, he had almost forgotten how beautiful the outside world could be.

His eyes swept across a corner of the garden before suddenly coming to a halt.

Beneath the shade of a large tree stood a wooden swing—charming and delicate. At the sight of it, Aaron couldn't help but frown.

Lucian… liking something like this?

He couldn't imagine someone like him allowing something so gentle and idyllic to exist within his mansion.

Unconsciously, Aaron's gaze shifted back to the flowers. Looking closer, he realized—weren't these the very flowers he liked?

For a fleeting moment, a thought flickered through his mind—could it be that Lucian had planted these flowers… because of him?

But the next second, Aaron immediately dismissed the idea.

Someone like Lucian… caring about another person?

If Lucian truly cared, he wouldn't have locked him up here. If Lucian had ever spared a thought for him, Aaron's life wouldn't have turned into this wretched existence.

Then why?

A gentle breeze passed by, carrying the subtle fragrance of the surrounding flowers. Aaron remained still, his eyes lost in thought.

He didn't know the answer. And he wasn't sure if he even wanted to.

Shaking off the stray thoughts in his mind, Aaron slowly approached the wooden swing under the cool shade of the tree. He sat down, gently swaying back and forth, feeling as if he were truly relaxing for the first time since his confinement. A soft breeze rustled the leaves, creating a soothing whisper that blended with the faint fragrance of the surrounding flowers.

Aaron closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

For the first time, he felt a sense of peace within this mansion.

But Aaron had no idea that, all this time, a pair of eyes had been silently watching his every move.

Lucian.

Even from far away, he was observing Aaron's every gesture through the screen of his laptop. His sharp, icy gaze never left the figure within the frame. At first, when he saw Aaron step into the garden, he was slightly taken aback—hadn't he always locked himself away in that dim room? Lucian had assumed he would continue that habit, like a bird willingly trapping itself in its own cage.

But today, Aaron had walked outside.

Lucian watched as he stood still, his eyes lingering on the flowers. A faint tension built in his chest, a flicker of unease passing through his mind.

"Does he like them?"

The question surfaced in Lucian's thoughts before he could stop it.

The vibrant flowers, the small wooden swing—none of these were things he liked. Someone like him, accustomed to darkness and cold indifference, had never cared for such gentle things.

And yet… they existed in this garden.

Because he had ordered them to be there.

For Aaron.

Lucian wasn't entirely sure what he had been thinking when he decided to plant those flowers, but now, as he watched Aaron quietly admiring them, an unfamiliar tension crept into his chest.

If Aaron simply stood there, indifferent, did that mean none of this had any meaning to him?

But when he saw Aaron sit on the swing, gently swaying like a child who had found a place of peace, Lucian's chest suddenly loosened.

He liked them.

A rare sense of relief washed over him. He continued to stare at the screen, forgetting the unfinished work on his desk, wanting to watch that scene just a little longer.

But then—

He saw Aaron stand up and walk toward the mansion gates.

Lucian immediately straightened, his cold eyes sharpening in an instant.

What are you doing?

His gaze locked onto the screen, darkening when he saw Aaron standing before the gates.

Could it be… he was trying to escape?

On Aaron's side, he heard faint sounds from outside the gate. His brows furrowed slightly, and he cautiously stepped closer, peering through the gap.

Outside, right at the base of the gate, a small, trembling creature lay curled up.

A kitten.

Its fur was dirty, small scratches covered its fragile body, and it looked injured. Its big, round eyes gazed up at him, letting out a weak "meow," as if pleading for help.

Aaron pressed his lips together.

Even though he himself was a captive, with his kind nature, he couldn't ignore a helpless creature in need.

Without hesitation, he reached out, gently unlocking the gate and stepping outside.

Lucian saw Aaron leave the mansion through the screen, his hand tightening into a fist, an ominous aura spilling from him.

He didn't care what Aaron's reason was.

The moment he crossed that boundary—even by just one step—Lucian would see it as betrayal.

And he hated betrayal.

He would never forgive anyone who tried to leave him.

But then, Lucian suddenly froze.

Aaron's small figure quickly returned to the screen—with a kitten in his arms.

Lucian stared at the sight, his eyes darkening.

Aaron wasn't trying to escape.

He simply couldn't turn his back on a defenseless life.

Lucian's clenched fist slowly loosened, and the suffocating pressure around him faded. No one could see it, but he was aware of the shift in his own emotions.

-"Such a… little angel."

The cold voice muttered the words, yet the undertone was softer than ever.

Aaron looked down at the kitten in his hands, hesitating before stepping toward the mansion.

Would Lucian allow this?

He wasn't the master of this place. He had no right to decide anything.

After a moment of hesitation, Aaron instinctively looked up, his gaze landing on a nearby security camera.

He knew Lucian was watching.

Saying nothing, he simply stood still, as if waiting for an answer.

From a distance, Lucian met Aaron's gaze through the screen.

For a fleeting moment, he understood what Aaron was thinking.

Lucian let out a quiet scoff, then reached for his phone and dialed a number.

Aaron remained in place, ready to turn back.

Perhaps… Lucian wouldn't allow it.

Lowering his head slightly, he looked at the kitten with reluctant eyes. He had planned to set it down and find another way, but just then

Hurried footsteps echoed.

The butler appeared before Aaron, bowing respectfully.

-"Young Master, please hand the kitten to me. I will tend to its wounds."

Aaron was slightly surprised but carefully placed the kitten into the butler's hands.

-"Alright…"

The butler took the kitten and swiftly carried it inside.

Aaron watched the figure disappear for a moment before shifting his gaze back to the security camera.

He didn't say anything. He didn't show any obvious emotions.

But deep inside, there was a faint warmth.

And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to say—thank you.

—————————————————

In the days that followed, Aaron seemed to have developed a new habit.

Every day, he would go to that garden—but he was no longer alone.

Beside him, a small creature curled up in his lap, its round eyes gazing at the world with innocent curiosity.

The little kitten had become Aaron's only companion during his long days of captivity.

And, of course, every move Aaron made was still being watched by one person.

Lucian.

He continued to sit in front of his laptop screen every day, observing Aaron through the cameras as if it had become an instinct ingrained in his mind. Every time he saw Aaron sitting under the shade of the tree, gently stroking the kitten, his eyes no longer as dark as before, Lucian felt an inexplicable sense of satisfaction.

He knew that Aaron had yet to smile—not even the faintest curve of his lips.

But at the very least, his mood had improved.

The heavy atmosphere had lifted.

His eyes were no longer empty and lifeless.

Aaron had begun to adapt to this gentle captivity.

And that was exactly what Lucian wanted.

————————————————

But today—

Lucian sat in front of the screen, his cold, sharp gaze scanning every camera angle.

Aaron was nowhere to be seen.

His brows knitted slightly, and his mood began to sink.

Every day, when he turned on the laptop, he would always see that small figure somewhere in the garden—either quietly sitting on the swing or playing with the kitten. But today, the screens before him showed nothing but empty spaces.

Where was Aaron?

Lucian tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, his eyes never leaving the screen, waiting for that familiar presence to appear.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Twenty minutes.

Still no sign of him.

Losing patience, he slammed the laptop shut and pushed his work aside.

He could have simply made a call to the butler to ask about Aaron's whereabouts.

But he didn't.

Doing so would be no different from admitting that he cared.

Lucian despised that feeling.

He didn't need to ask anyone.

He wanted to see for himself.

That night, without hesitation, Lucian stepped into his car.

The engine roared to life, a beast unleashed into the silent streets.

The limited-edition supercar cut through the night like a phantom, its piercing headlights slicing through the darkness. Other vehicles instinctively moved aside, no one daring to block its path.

They didn't need to see the license plate.

Everyone knew who the car belonged to.

The man behind the wheel was someone untouchable.

Crossing him meant there was no road left to survive.

Lucian gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but in his mind, only one thought remained—

-"Aaron is still there… isn't he?"

It had been days since he last saw him in person.

And though he wouldn't admit it, he felt something unsettling— A trace of longing.

——————————————

Lucian drove straight to the mansion without stopping for even a second.

He stepped inside, his icy demeanor unwavering, completely ignoring the puzzled gazes and respectful bows of the servants.

No one dared to speak.

He walked directly upstairs, heading toward Aaron's room.

In front of the closed door, a small figure lay curled up—a pair of shimmering feline eyes staring longingly at the shut entrance. It remained still, as if patiently waiting for the person inside to come out.

Lucian approached, his steady footsteps echoing through the silent hallway.

The little kitten looked up at him, then suddenly stood and rubbed itself against his leg, its tiny tail flicking as if seeking affection.

Lucian glanced down.

If this had been before, he wouldn't have hesitated to kick the bothersome creature away.

He had never liked weak, useless things, nor had he ever possessed even a sliver of patience for animals.

But this time, he didn't.

Because this was something Aaron cherished.

Lucian paused for a brief moment before ignoring the kitten entirely and pushing the door open.

The moment he stepped inside, he sensed something was wrong.

The air in the room was stifling, suffocatingly warm.

This mansion was fully equipped with modern conveniences—every room had air conditioning.

So why was this room so unbearably hot?

A faint, labored breath reached his ears from the direction of the bed.

Lucian's brows furrowed as he quickly strode forward.

Under the dim lighting of the room, he saw Aaron curled up beneath the blankets, his small body instinctively recoiling.

His face was flushed red, his lips pale, and his breathing weak.

Lucian stood there, staring down, his gaze darkening.

He was sick.

Lucian didn't even need to touch him to know that Aaron was burning up with fever.

At that moment, the little kitten trailed after him into the room, hopping onto the bed and letting out a soft meow. Aaron, hearing the familiar sound, instinctively reached out to hold it despite his exhaustion.

But before his fragile hand could touch the kitten, a firm grip seized him.

Lucian.

Aaron flinched slightly, his heavy eyelids struggling to lift.

Lucian's hand was warm, yet Aaron's fingers were frighteningly cold.

Lucian tightened his grip, his sharp gaze flickering with an unspoken storm.

He had given strict orders for Aaron to be taken care of properly.

And yet now, his treasure had been reduced to this state?

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.

His fingers instinctively clenched tighter, as if wanting to punish someone.

Aaron noticed.

Even in his feverish haze, drained of all strength, he could still feel the chilling aura radiating from the man before him.

Aaron wanted to pull his hand back, but he had no strength left.

Lucian stared at him for a long time.

His gaze remained dark as ever, but deep inside, something stirred—something that even he didn't recognize.

He released Aaron's hand and turned to leave.

His steps were strong, and the aura of coldness he radiated made the air in the room feel frozen.

Aaron watched his retreating figure, a feeling of unease rising within him.

He struggled to sit up, his head spinning, but he still forced himself to follow.

By the time he reached the hallway, Lucian had already descended the stairs.

At that moment, a loud crash rang out.

Aaron jolted.

He knew exactly what was happening—Lucian was angry.

Ignoring his frail body, he hurried down the stairs.

Each step felt like it was crushing the air, his mind spinning, and his limbs weak.

But he kept going because he knew—

If he didn't intervene, someone would be in trouble.

When he reached the scene, what he saw froze him in place…

A porcelain vase shattered on the floor, the broken pieces reflecting the cold light, like sharp blades stabbing into the tense atmosphere.

A servant was kneeling, head bowed low, trembling all over. The others stood around, their faces pale, none daring to speak.

Lucian stood before them, his sharp eyes staring down at them with an imposing presence so strong that no words were needed to suffocate those around him.

He didn't yell or raise a hand, but his pressure was enough to push everyone into a state of sheer fear.

-"Do I need to remind you what I said?"

His voice was low, yet heavy, like a blade carving into their minds.

The servant trembled, sweat pouring from his forehead. His voice stuttered, unable to form a complete sentence:

-"Sir… we…"

Crash!

A glass cup on the table was sent flying, shattering loudly.

The sharp sound echoed like the toll of a death bell, making the already silent space even more suffocating.

-"Silence."

The simple command caused the kneeling servant to tremble uncontrollably.

Lucian didn't need to say more, but his presence alone thrust everyone into the worst nightmare they could imagine.

From the top of the stairs, Aaron stood still, his hand gripping the banister to support his weakening body.

He swallowed hard.

He knew Lucian would not let this slide easily.

Gathering the last of his strength, Aaron took a deep breath and stepped forward.

In the suffocating silence, his voice broke the stillness:

-"It was me… I didn't want them to come into my room."

The room seemed to freeze.

All the servants stared at Aaron, wide-eyed, unable to believe he had just taken the blame for them.

Lucian spun around. His eyes darkened.

Aaron bit his lip, even though he knew his words would only anger Lucian further, but he stubbornly continued:

-"They're not at fault… I just didn't want anyone disturbing me."

His voice grew softer, as though each word drained the remaining strength from him.

Lucian stared at him.

No expression, no sign of emotion.

But deep within his gaze, something fleeting passed through—an emotion that couldn't quite be named.

Before he could say anything, Aaron suddenly staggered.

Lucian furrowed his brow.

In that instant, as Aaron started to fall forward, his hand shot out to catch him.

A feverish body leaned into his chest.

The weak breaths brushed lightly against his cold shirt.

Lucian looked down at the person in his arms, his gaze deepening.

-"Troublesome."

He murmured, but instead of letting go, he tightened his embrace.

Without saying anything more, he decisively lifted Aaron up.

The butler immediately understood, frantically pulling out his phone to call the doctor.

No one dared delay.

If something were to happen to Lucian's precious possession, even ten lives wouldn't be enough to make up for it.

————————————————

When they arrived in the room, Lucian carefully placed Aaron on the bed, adjusting the blanket slowly.

His movements weren't overly gentle, but they lacked the usual cold, ruthless indifference.

A few minutes later, the doctor arrived.

Throughout the examination, Lucian stood silently, watching.

His gaze was intense enough to freeze the entire room.

The doctor was highly focused, not daring to let his attention slip for even a second. A single mistake could ruin his career.

After administering a fever-reducing injection and giving thorough instructions, the doctor hurriedly left.

The room fell silent once again.

Lucian sat on the sofa, his gaze never leaving Aaron on the bed.

He had skipped an important meeting, and numerous tasks were waiting to be handled.

But he didn't care.

He sat there, laptop on his lap, working as usual—

But there was one difference.

Every time Aaron moved even slightly, Lucian would glance over.

He didn't leave, nor did he call anyone to care for Aaron.

That night, he stayed.

Quietly, yet never taking his eyes off Aaron.

The little cat was truly clingy.

It kept circling around Aaron, rubbing against him, as if it couldn't bear to be apart for even a second.

Lucian watched this scene, feeling a little irritated.

He didn't like animals, especially ones that were small, soft, and clingy like this. He wanted to carry it outside, but every time he touched it, it would let out a small, persistent, and dissatisfied meow.

Lucian frowned.

It was as stubborn as its owner.

Reluctantly, he placed the little cat on his lap, allowing it to rest against him.

At least it knew its place—just the warmth of a human was enough for it to lie still, no longer causing a fuss.

Lucian continued to work, but occasionally, he would glance at the bed.

He realized something—

Normally, Aaron was always quiet, but when asleep, he wasn't obedient at all.

Every now and then, Aaron would kick the blanket off, turn over instinctively, and sometimes furrow his brow as if he wasn't used to the heat from his fever.

Lucian sighed, reaching out to pull the blanket back over him.

A moment later, Aaron kicked it off again.

Lucian frowned and pulled the blanket up again.

After repeating this a few times, Lucian couldn't help but feel amused.

He leaned back against the sofa, his gaze lingering on Aaron's flushed face. Aaron's breath came in light puffs, his eyelashes fluttering, as though he was dreaming of something.

The little cat on Lucian's lap also nestled closer, breathing evenly.

Lucian watched this scene, not realizing when it was that he stopped caring about his usual distaste for animals.

He didn't sleep at all that night.

——————————————-

The next morning, Aaron groggily woke up.

The fever had subsided, but his body still felt a bit weak. He blinked a few times, looking around the room.

No one was there.

But on the table, a cup of warm milk, a bowl of hot porridge, and several pills had been neatly placed.

Aaron paused for a moment.

He glanced beside him and saw the little cat still sound asleep.

Yesterday… in the haze of his fever, he had felt some warmth. Could it have come from this cat?

Aaron reached out to pet it, but then suddenly remembered something.

Panicking, he quickly got up and ran outside.

When he reached the lower floor, his eyes immediately searched the area. When he saw the house staff and the butler still there, safe and sound, he sighed in relief.

He thought…

Seeing Aaron, the butler quickly approached and respectfully bowed his head.

— "Young Master, do you need anything?"

Aaron didn't answer, only shook his head and turned to go back to his room.

At least knowing they were okay was enough to put his mind at ease.

But just as he was about to turn around, the butler's voice rang out again:

— "Young Master."

Aaron stopped, turning his head.

The butler bent slightly, his voice carrying an unusual sincerity:

— "About yesterday… we truly thank you."

Aaron was silent for a moment, then gave a slight nod, not saying anything more.

Back in his room, he sat down, his gaze unconsciously resting on the bowl of porridge, still steaming.

He didn't touch it right away.

He quietly watched it, his mind drifting back to the night before.

Fuzzy memories surfaced— a tall figure, steady breaths, and a silent presence beside him all night.

Though he couldn't remember clearly, there was one thing he was sure of—

That person… was Lucian.

————————————————

As usual, that evening, Lucian entered Aaron's room.

Without knocking, without any prior announcement, he simply pushed the door open, as if it were a habitual act.

But today, he was holding a cup of warm milk and several pills in his hand.

Aaron was sitting on the bed. Upon seeing him, he only glanced at him briefly before turning away, showing no reaction.

Lucian walked over and placed the cup and pills on the table. He didn't say anything, but his gaze clearly conveyed that he wanted Aaron to drink it.

Aaron didn't respond.

He simply sat there indifferently, paying no attention to Lucian's presence.

Lucian was not a patient man.

His voice dropped, carrying a hint of coldness:

—"Don't die. It's too troublesome."

His words carried no concern, as if he was simply trying to avoid complications.

Would he be sad if Aaron died?

Probably not. He would just find it annoying.

Aaron lowered his gaze, said nothing, and silently took the cup of milk and the pills from the table.

The milk was still warm, neither too hot nor too cold—prepared at just the right temperature to be easy to drink.

But no matter what, Aaron still felt cold.

What good was the warmth on his skin when his heart felt empty?

Aaron remembered the days when he was free, when he had someone to love by his side.

Every time he was sick, there would be a gentle voice in his ear, soft caresses, and words of concern that needed no hiding.

But now…

The person in front of him, who was clearly taking care of him, still couldn't say a kind word.

No gentleness, no clear concern.

Just cold, commanding orders.

Aaron silently drank the milk, but he couldn't stop the feeling of being deeply hurt from creeping in.

Perhaps Lucian was busy today.

He didn't stay long in the room as usual.

As soon as he saw Aaron had finished the medicine, he stood up, said nothing, and left without a word.

Aaron watched his figure disappear behind the door.

Without thinking, he knew—Lucian was going off to handle his deadly business again.

Recently, many forces had been eyeing him.

They wanted to kill him.

But who was Lucian?

He wouldn't let himself die so easily.

He was strong, ruthless, and terrifyingly indifferent.

Only Aaron was different.

The room fell silent again.

It was just Aaron, alone.

In that moment, he suddenly felt so weak, unable to stand up for himself.

The feeling of loneliness rose like a tidal wave, drowning him in an invisible emptiness.

He bit his lip, clenching his fists.

Unconsciously, a strong desire arose in his heart…

He wanted freedom.

He wanted to escape this place.

He wanted to return to his lover…

The thought flickered like a faint light in the dark, but it was quickly overshadowed by reality.

Because Aaron knew—

Lucian had never truly stopped him from leaving.

But was leaving really that easy?

End of Chapter 2.