As night fell, Caspian forced himself to get on the bed. He had almost reflexively gotten on the couch to wait like he had done for two nights in a row.
He still held the hope that Asher would return, lying wide awake in bed, his heart shrinking.
He woke up the next morning to an empty bed, and a room devoid of Asher's scent, his lacy socks hanging halfway off one of his legs.
Shaking off the despondency sinking its claws into his skin, he got up to shower. He should be happy, he hadn't needed to be worried about his secret for two whole days.
Once again, he thought about coming clean. It was a thought that crossed his mind several times a day.
And he knew exactly why he hadn't done it yet, Asher had never given him the image that his life would be in danger if he admitted to something like that.
He didn't want the Alpha to lose his interest in him, which was really stupid. Because did he really think he could monopolize a Mafia King?
