Leave Me Alone, Big Brothers! [BL]-Chapter 85: A Fortress Without A Shield

Chapter 85: A Fortress Without A Shield
The morning sun hadn’t even fully cleared the horizon, but inside Alexander’s study room, Jack was already experiencing a full-scale spiritual collapse.
He was slumped over a desk, his head resting on a stack of color-coded folders that Huan had spent the last hour explaining.
"Please just kill me, Huan," Jack wailed, his voice muffled by the paperwork. He looked up, his eyes wide and roaming with dramatic despair. "I’m serious. Take your pistol and shoot me right now. I can’t survive a single day alone with him! Oh my God..."
Huan didn’t even pause his task of filing. He placed a final tab on a folder with a perfectionist gesture.
"You can, Jack. And you will. You’ve survived an ambush in a shipyard and three days in a jungle. You do good work."
"No!" Jack sat up, clutching a stapler as if it were a lifebuoy. "I can survive a war, Huan! I can survive a bullet! Maybe... But I cannot survive Alexander!"
He faked a dramatic cry. "You know he’s only human when you’re in the room. Only you can tame him! Do you know how many times he wanted to eat me alive last time?"
Huan offered a thin smile. He paused, looking at the man who was technically one of the most dangerous bodyguards in the country, currently having a meltdown over a file folder.
"He is a bit harsh," Huan conceded, his voice soft. "And hard to please. But he is perfectly fine if you can anticipate his needs. The most important thing is that you know exactly what you are doing before he even asks."
"That’s the problem!" Jack slammed his forehead back onto the desk. "I don’t fucking have any idea about ’office work’! Why does a mafia boss have so many spreadsheets? I’m a man of action, Huan! I break legs! I don’t manage Google Meet invites! Please... just kill me,
huhu
."
Huan walked over and gave Jack’s shoulder a firm, grounding pat.
Jack froze, looking at Huan’s hand, then up at his face. A new, terrifying thought crossed his mind. "Why are you suddenly resigning anyway? Is this it? Are you finally getting married to him?"
Huan’s hand stilled on Jack’s shoulder. The calm mask he wore didn’t break, but his eyes grew dark, a flicker of profound sadness passing through them. He pulled his hand back and looked toward the window.
"Ah... no," Huan murmured. "Nothing like that. I have things to settle in my hometown."
Jack squinted, his dramatic tears forgotten as his gossip instincts took over. "Don’t tell me... did you break up with him? Is that why these past few days the house smells like a funeral and he looks like he wants to kill everyone?"
Huan didn’t answer. He simply reached out and straightened Jack’s crooked tie, his smile becoming mysterious and unreadable.
"Better prepare for your day, Jack," Huan said, handing him Alexander’s tablet. "He’s been awake for an hour. And he’s already had his first espresso."
Jack stared at the tablet as if it were a ticking bomb. "He’s had the espresso? God help me. I’m a dead man."
***
After breakfast, and once the twins had left for school, Alexander returned to his room. Usually Huan would follow, but this time he returned to his own room instead.
He locked the door carefully and took out his cell phone. Then he made a call.
When the line clicked open, the silence was replaced by a loud voice.
"Why are you calling me this early, Huan?" Antonio Salazar’s voice was sharp, even through the phone. "I hope it’s good news."
Huan stared at his reflection in the darkened window. He looked like a man who had already left, even if his body was still in the mansion.
"I thought it through, Sir," Huan said, his voice a steady, hollow vibration. "I will leave Alexander. I will go back to my village."
There was a long pause on the other end. Huan could almost hear Antonio’s mind calculating the shift in power, the realignment of the Salazar board.
"Is that so?" Antonio asked, his tone shifting to a cold, satisfied curiosity. "Why suddenly? After a month, you refused it so adamantly."
Huan’s grip tightened on the phone. A month ago, Antonio had sat him down and offered him a fortune to vanish. The goal was simple: clear the path for Alexander to marry Athena Argonne, the daughter of a powerful ally, after Alexander had humiliated the family by rejecting Freya.
Back then, Huan had fought it. He had insisted that he couldn’t leave, not because of the money, but because he believed Alexander needed him. He had argued that forcing a woman into Alexander’s life would only break what was left of the man’s heart.
But that was before last night. Before the realization that Alexander would rather destroy himself than admit he loved him, the one person who stayed.
"I just realized my worth here, Sir," Huan whispered, the words catching in his throat like glass. "Or rather, I realized I have none. It is better that I take care of myself and your family gets what you want."
"A sensible realization," Antonio remarked, the sound of a match striking echoing through the line. "Alexander is a man of duty, even if he fights it. He needs an heir. He needs to secure the bloodline. With you gone, he will take the wife I have chosen."
Huan closed his eyes. He could see it, the wedding, the children, the cold, perfect legacy of the Salazar name. He would be a footnote, a ghost who once guarded the king.
"I will be gone by the end of the month," Huan said.
"The funds will be transferred to an account of your choosing," Antonio replied. "You served him well, Huan. But in this life, loyalty is only useful
until
it becomes an obstacle."
"I don’t want the money," Huan said, but Antonio had already hung up.
Huan slowly lowered the phone. The hope that had sustained him for a decade, the small, flickering belief that Alexander would eventually choose him over ego and pride, had finally been extinguished. He had been a shield for a man who wanted to be a fortress.
"I hope you will be happy."
***
The lunch bell rang. Students rushed out of class.
Zane stood from his chair, his expression a wall of pale indifference, though he was clutching a small, neatly wrapped sandwich. He placed it on the corner of Nathan’s desk.
Before Nathan could speak, Zane spoke first.
"My tutor said yes," Zane said, his voice low. "He thinks having another student might actually force me to focus. You can start tomorrow. If you want, you can come with me."
Zane cleared his throat, he had already cleaned his car thoroughly.
Nathan looked up, a genuine spark of relief lighting his eyes. "Really? That’s great, Zane. Seriously. I was starting to think I’d have to move to Paris just to pass this class."
Nathan chuckled softly, then continued. "But I have to be driven by Louis. Or my brother will make a scene."
Zane nodded, disappointed. "Up to you."
"I’m not patient until tomorrow."
Zane offered the ghost of a smirk. "Don’t get ahead of yourself. He’s strict."
"I’ve survived worse," Nathan said, reaching into his bag and pulling out a large, insulated container. He popped the lid, releasing a cloud of steam and the savory, creamy scent of garlic and herbs. "Sit down. I brought white pasta. We’re eating together. We can eat the sandwich later."
Zane paused, his gaze lingering on the steam rising from the container. "You cook again?"
"Yes, I still have time to do it. But for sure, not for long," Nathan muttered, handing Zane a fork.
Zane sat, his posture stiff but his eyes curious. They began to eat in a rare, comfortable silence, the shared meal feeling like a private pact. The sandwich Zane had brought sat forgotten on the corner of the table, reserved for a later hunger.
Then
...
The door swung open with a bang.
"Nathan! I found the tray! They had the honey-glazed ribs today!" Eli bounded into the room, a loaded canteen tray balanced precariously in his hands. He stopped short when he saw Zane, his eyes widening. "Oh. Hey, Zane."
Zane’s expression shifted instantly. His fork paused halfway to his mouth, and he cast a look at Eli that was clearly meant to shoo him away. He had wanted this lunch to be quiet.
Eli, ever oblivious, or perhaps just brave, sat down at the neighboring desk. "You guys have eaten already?"
Nathan looked at the tray Eli had brought, piles of ribs and steamed greens. He shook his head at his own pasta. "Eat it yourself, Eli. I brought this pasta, but it’s mostly carbs. It’s not good for you. You’re still growing, you need that meat."
Eli looked at his tray, then at Nathan’s home-cooked meal. "I have no choice. Can I eat here?"
Zane looked stern, his gray eyes turning to flint. The silence he projected was a physical wall, screaming for Eli to leave.
"Of course," Nathan said, ignoring Zane’s death glare. "We eat together."
Just as Eli was about to dig into a rib, the door opened a second time. This time, the frame was filled by the massive, hulking silhouette of Gabriel Perlich. He was holding a cold can of Coke, looking like he was about to make another awkward offering.
He stopped dead when his eyes landed on Zane. The air in the room didn’t just turn cold, it turned electric.
"Why are you here?" Gabriel growled, his voice a low thud of sound.
Zane didn’t even stand up, but his aura of authority sharpened. "I should ask you."
The two of them stared at each other, the police commissioner’s son and the loan shark’s heir. It was like a centuries-old war condensed into a ten-second stare-down in a high school classroom.
Gabriel’s hand tightened around the soda can until the aluminum groaned.
Nathan looked at both of them, feeling the headache from the morning return. He realized that if he didn’t intervene, someone was going to end up through a window.
Nathan stood up and grabbed another chair, slamming it down at the end of the desk with a loud thud.
"Eat with us," Nathan commanded.
Gabriel and Zane both blinked, their territorial posturing momentarily broken. "What?" they asked in unison.
"I brought enough pasta for three, and Eli has his own food," Nathan said, his voice brooking no argument. He pointed at the chair. "Sit down. Now. Or get out."
Gabriel looked at the pasta. He looked at the way Nathan was staring him down. He didn’t want to disappoint Nathan, and honestly, the food smelled better than anything in the cafeteria. He sat, his massive frame making the desk look like a toy.
Zane was visibly annoyed, his jaw set in a hard line. He hated the lack of exclusivity, but leaving now would be a surrender, and it would be rude to Nathan.
He stayed.
They ate in a thick, agonizing silence. The only sounds were the scraping of forks and the crunch of Eli’s ribs.
Eli coughed uncomfortably, trying to muffle the sound.
It was the strangest lunch in the history of X Starling: the Stray, the Prince, the Shark, and the Scholar, all sitting at a table and eating together.