The business party was in full swing, with wealthy figures, influential leaders, and high-profile businesspeople from across the city. Milo stood near a corner, politely sipping his drink while observing the well-dressed crowd. He had never been one for such events, but Henry Kingsley's warmth had made him feel welcome. In fact, Henry was often around Milo in the studio these days, bringing him food, chatting about art, or simply enjoying the quiet presence. Victor, too, had subtly begun to change around him. Although he remained reserved and sometimes cold, there were rare moments when his demeanor softened, revealing glimpses of something more human beneath his usual frosty exterior.
Tonight, Henry had personally invited Milo to join them at the event, wanting him to feel a part of the Kingsley circle. Milo was honored, though a bit nervous to be in such a formal setting. However, as the evening unfolded, he managed to relax, enjoying his quiet corner and the pleasant hum of conversation around him.
As he stood there, lost in thought, a mid age rich well dressed woman in a red gown approached. magnificient, with a sharp smile and eyes that sparkled with something darker than seduction, the stranger moved closer than was necessary. She seemed to recognize Milo, though Milo couldn't recall meeting him before.
"Ah, so you're the artist that Mr. Kingsley is so fond of," the woman said smoothly, his gaze lingering on Milo in a way that felt intrusive.
Milo forced a polite smile. "Yes, I suppose I am. Do we... know each other?"
The woman chuckled, stepping even closer. "No, but I'd like to change that. You're quite a lucky man to have captured Henry Kingsley's attention. I'm Viola Rossi. My business is about art too."
The comment sounded innocent, but Milo could sense something unsettling behind it. He tried to keep his tone light. "I am Milo Winter and Mr. Kingsley is very supportive of his artists." They both shake hand.
"Very supportive, indeed," Viola replied, his hand reaching out to rest on Milo's arm. The touch was unwelcome, her fingers pressing with an almost seductive and possessive familiarity. "Why don't you work for me! I'm scared to believe anyone. Should we discuss it some more private place. Hearing Ms. Rossi, Milo stiffened, instinctively taking a step back, but Viola's grip tightened slightly, holding him in place.
Victor, across the room, was in conversation with a group of business associates. But as he scanned the crowd, his eyes landed on Milo and the unfamiliar woman beside him. He couldn't hear their conversation over the music and chatter, but he could tell Milo was uncomfortable-his usually relaxed expression replaced by a tight-lipped smile and downcast gaze.
Victor's jaw clenched, his irritation rising as he noticed the woman's hand lingering on Milo's arm. The way Milo's shoulders tensed and the uneasy in his eyes was enough to stir something protective inside him. Unable to bear it any longer, he excused himself from his group, his tone firm as he turned toward Milo and the stranger.
Approaching the pair, Victor slid smoothly between them, positioning himself beside Milo wrapping his hand gently around Milo's waist and fixing the stranger with a steely gaze. "Woman, you are making him uncomfortable. Take off your hand from him before I make it bleed." he said, his voice cold, with an edge that left no room for casual pleasantries.
The woman's confident smile faltered in fear as he looked up at Victor. "Ah, Mr. Kingsley," she stammered, forced to show respect. "I was just... admiring your artist friend here."
Victor's eyes narrowed, his gaze hard. "Admiration doesn't usually require physical contact," he replied icily, barely restraining his irritation. He glanced down at Milo, noting the tension still visible in his posture.
Viola quickly withdrew her hand, straightening herself and chuckling awkwardly. "I didn't mean any harm, Mr. Kingsley. I just appreciate good art."
Victor's smile was thin and menacing. "Then I'd suggest you keep your appreciation respectful."
Viola was angry and felt humiliated but still nodded, her bravado diminished under Victor's intense stare. Victor turned to Milo, his tone gentler now. "Milo, why don't you come with me?"
Milo looked at him gratefully, nodding as he took a small step closer to Victor. Together, they turned away from the man, leaving him standing alone, visibly flustered.
Victor led Milo toward where his father was standing with a group of executives. As they reached him, Victor leaned in to Henry, murmuring in his ear, "Milo isn't feeling well. I'll take him back to our place."
Henry's expression shifted immediately to one of concern, and he nodded, reaching out to pat Milo's shoulder. "Take care, son," he said warmly. "Get some rest, alright?"
Milo managed a small smile. "Thank you, Mr. Kingsley."
Henry's eyes softened. "We'll catch up later. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything."
As Victor turned to lead Milo out of the crowded room, Milo found himself unable to meet anyone's gaze. His discomfort from the earlier encounter lingered, leaving him feeling strangely vulnerable.
Victor placed a steady hand on Milo's shoulder, steering him gently but firmly through the crowd and toward the exit. They walked in silence, the tension between them palpable. Finally, they reached the quiet refuge of the car waiting outside.
Once inside, Milo exhaled a shaky breath, staring at his hands as they rested in his lap. He felt drained, both physically and emotionally, and the kindness from Victor and Henry had only amplified the whirlwind of feelings stirring within him.
Victor watched him quietly for a moment before breaking the silence. "You don't have to put up with people like that," he said, his tone softer than usual. "If anyone makes you uncomfortable, you tell me."
Milo looked up, surprised by the rare warmth in Victor's voice. "Thank you... for coming over when you did," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know what to do."
Victor's gaze softened, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. "You shouldn't have to deal with that," he replied. "Next time, just call me over."
Milo managed a small smile, touched by Victor's unexpected concern. For the first time, he felt a sense of safety around him, a feeling he hadn't expected from someone he once thought of as cold and distant.
Victor turned away, looking out the window as if hiding the trace of emotion that had slipped through his usual guarded demeanor. The silence that followed was comfortable, almost companionable, a subtle connection forming between them in the quiet of the car.
As they arrived at the Kingsley residence, Victor walked Milo inside, not leaving until he was sure Milo was settled and calm. For the first time, the house felt less imposing to Milo, the lingering sense of protection in the air easing his worries.
***