Chapter 31 – The Invitation

The weight of Rylan's gaze hadn't lessened since the moment Elian arrived. If anything, it grew heavier, like an invisible chain tightening around him.

Yet, to everyone else, Rylan appeared composed, charming, even polite.

Only Elian could see the truth beneath the surface.

Taro, still caught up in admiration, clapped Rylan on the shoulder with a grin. "Sir, you really know how to leave an impression. This exhibition is unreal. I swear, Elian, you'd love his collection. The details, the vision—it's exactly your kind of thing."

Rylan's lips barely moved, but his amusement was unmistakable. Taro had no idea how right he was.

"I'm glad you think so," Rylan said, his voice smooth as silk. Then, his gaze flicked back to Elian, lingering on him in a way that made it clear who he was really speaking to. "But this is only a fraction of what I have planned."

Elian raised a brow, feigning polite curiosity. "Oh?"

Rylan's eyes darkened. "Yes. After this, I'm hosting a private unveiling. A more intimate event. I would love for you to attend."

A subtle trap.

A simple invitation, yet the way Rylan said it—the way his voice dipped just slightly, the way his eyes studied every small reaction—it wasn't casual at all.

Elian knew better than to react too quickly. His silence was calculated, his features smooth, revealing nothing.

But before he could answer, Taro jumped in.

"That sounds amazing! Elian, you should go. You love art, don't you?"

Rylan's lips twitched in the slightest smirk. A flicker of victory.

Elian tensed.

There it was—the trap tightening.

Rylan had been patient, weaving his web with precision, but Taro had unknowingly given him the perfect excuse to pull Elian in further.

Elian inhaled slowly, controlling his expression. He had spent years learning how to mask discomfort, how to act indifferent even when every part of him screamed otherwise.

"I'll think about it," he finally said.

Rylan's smirk deepened, though his voice remained velvety smooth. "I'll have the invitation sent to you."

Not an offer. A certainty.

The conversation around them continued—Taro rambling about his excitement, guests admiring the artwork—but Elian barely heard any of it.

He was too aware of the way Rylan was still watching him.

Still waiting.

And in that moment, Elian knew.

No matter how much he wanted to avoid it, he had already stepped into Rylan's world.

There was no turning back now.