Imprisoned Love

The cold-faced secretary

Deep down, Yale viewed the secretary who had served his grandfather for years as nothing more than an insignificant lover. Despite being young, he had latched onto an old man over forty years his senior. It was either a twisted psychological issue or sheer greed for the Yale family's wealth. Because of this, Yale's grandfather had never shown the man any kindness.

Yet, the secretary frequently exploited his grandfather's affection, deliberately causing trouble for Yale. Now, after causing a major incident, he had come seeking refuge, likely intending to stir up more trouble in front of the old man.

“Jonathan , are you secretly pleased with yourself right now?" Yale sneered as he sank into the back seat of the black Maybach, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Young Master, the boss will handle this matter. My duty is to ensure your safe return home; anything else is none of my concern," Jonathan replied impassively. He took out his phone and dialed a number. "Vaughn, I've picked up the Young Master. Please rest assured." His businesslike demeanor was infuriatingly calm and professional.

Are you aware that Zane is now living in Fengcheng?" Yale mentioned deliberately. "Do you think he has a boyfriend now?"

"That is Zane's personal business, which I have no right to know."

"Indeed. Back then, you heartlessly abandoned Zane to follow my grandfather. If I were you, I wouldn’t have the face to inquire either," Yale sneered mockingly.

"Young Master Yale, I am merely your grandfather's secretary. Outside of work-related matters, I'm afraid I cannot provide satisfactory answers to your other questions," Joanthan replied, his words cold and emotionless, like a machine. "And, just so you know, the boss is likely not in a good mood."

Hearing this, Yale's expression darkened. He frowned and retorted, "What do you mean, trying to scare me with my grandfather? Don’t think I don’t know you always speak ill of me to him. Hmph!" With that, he turned his head to look out the window, but his heart couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease.

Through the glass window, Yale’s pouty face was visible, looking so adorably pinchable. However, at this moment, he had no interest in appreciating his own cuteness. All he cared about was whether his grandfather was truly angry with him.

I'm just reporting your daily life to the boss truthfully; it's not like I'm saying anything bad." The "truthfully" in Jonathan's mouth meant reporting every outrageous and foolish thing Yale did without any embellishment. That was exciting enough; there was no need to add any extra color.

"Is Grandpa really angry?" Yale turned around cautiously, his big, misty eyes looking pitiful as he asked.

Yes, he's very worried about you, afraid that you'll be caught by the Lis." Jonathan took out his phone and showed him the messages Grandpa had sent him, dozens of texts urging to protect Yale, which made Yale regret his impulsiveness.

The Yale family's mansion was situated halfway up Qingfeng Mountain, a property Yale's grandfather bought only after Yale's parents passed away. Over the years, he had never left here because entering the bustling city area would dredge up memories he'd rather forget.

Grandpa, I'm back." Seeing grandfather watering the flowers in the garden, Yale ran over and hugged him tightly.

"It's good that you're back. Let me see, has my Yale lost weight?" grandfather held Yale's hand, looking him up and down to make sure his grandson wasn't injured before finally showing a long-lost smile.

Jonathan, quickly go tell the chef to prepare Yale's favorite dishes. After all this trouble, he must be tired and hungry." Hmph, Jonathan always tries to scare him, but Grandpa would never get angry with him. Pouting, he glared at Jonathan's retreating figure, full of resentment.

"Come, Yale, sit down." grandfather led him to the marble bench in the garden. The Pu'er tea on the table was bubbling on the stove. Yale poured two cups. "Still love drinking Grandpa's brewed Pu'er tea, so rich."

Can I discuss something with you, Grandpa?" Yale's grandfather adjusted his glasses and asked with a smile, waiting for Yale's response.

"Grandpa, you said, you said." Yale urged innocently, "As long as you don't make me get married, I'll agree to anything."

"Do you really dislike marriage that much?" Grandfather asked cautiously. "Even if you meet someone you like?"

"I don't want to." Yale pouted. "I just want to live with you, Grandpa. Having a relationship is enough."

"Can Grandpa accompany you for a lifetime? Really." Yale's internal calculations had already begun. For Yale's future happiness, he knew there were some things he had to do, even if they were difficult.

After dinner, with nothing to do, Yale stood on the balcony looking at the stars. He glanced down and saw Jonathan heading towards the garage. Why was he going out alone at this hour instead of staying with Grandpa? Well, there wasn't anything else to do anyway. Might as well follow and see. Who knows, maybe there'll be some explosive situation to share and laugh about with Zane.

Yale, who didn't have time to change clothes, threw on a pair of white canvas shoes and donned a navy blue cotton baseball cap before catching up. Jonathan was always low-key, usually driving his old, beaten-up car when he went out, taking his sweet time. To avoid drawing attention, Yale followed suit in the small car Li Auntie used for grocery shopping.

After descending the mountain and circling around a few times, they arrived at the bustling nightlife hub. "Can't believe it, he's usually as cold as a malfunctioning robot, but at night, his true colors come out," Yale muttered to himself as he saw the club entrance bustling with club-hoppers. Seeing Jonathan go in, Yale quickly moved his car. "Sir, you can't park here," the parking attendant, who was all smiles moments ago, now frowned disapprovingly as he stopped Yale from parking in the adjacent space.

"Why can't I park?" Yale angrily demanded, his voice erupting like a volcano. "That guy who just went in managed to park his beat-up car, why can't I?"

"Whether the car is beat-up or not is irrelevant. He's our big boss, who are you?" Yale was stunned. "Wait, you're saying that guy who went in is your boss?"

"Yeah, whatever. Hurry up and park your car back there. This area is for paid parking only, this is for internal use," the parking attendant pointed to the parking area behind the nightclub. Yale instantly revived, eager to catch a glimpse as soon as possible. He completely ignored the attendant's rudeness and happily parked the car.

It's strange, he thought, in all these years of visiting various places, why hadn't he noticed this one before? "LOSER"? The name didn't seem like the kind of place a cute boy with a sunny disposition like him would like.

After parking, Yale made his way to the entrance again, curious. How much do I have to pay to find out which room your boss is in today?"

"Oh...it's hopeless for someone like you," the parking attendant chuckled. "Our boss likes people with visible moles." Well, that was quite a bombshell for a first response. This peculiar preference was indeed unique, but Zane's eyelids happened to have one. Looks like his tastes were quite specific.

"Is this enough?" Yale handed over a $1000 bill. Seeing it, the parking attendant immediately accepted it obsequiously. "That's enough. Our boss usually stays in the Black Diamond room on the second floor, but the drinking partners are all designated. If you want to get in, it's a bit tricky."

Stepping into "LOSER," Yale felt like he was entering a world of light and shadow. The huge crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling like stars, emitting a soft and mysterious light, illuminating the entire space.

Neon lights around flashed like rainbows, jumping in the darkness, flickering with enticing brilliance.

In the center of the dance floor, lights changed color and shape rhythmically with the music, creating a bewildering and dreamy atmosphere. Dancers in sexy attire danced freely under the lights, their bodies like agile flames, swaying with the beat of the music, as if interpreting the passion and vitality of the night through dance.

Yale approached the bar, where bartenders skillfully shook cocktail shakers like artists, concocting colorful cocktails. The aroma of alcohol and fruit mingled in the air, tempting anyone to taste. Sitting on a high stool, he surveyed the surroundings, feeling impressed.

Jonathan's taste was indeed impeccable.

In the corner, exquisite sofas and coffee tables were arranged tastefully, as if providing a cozy haven for those who wanted to rest or have a private conversation. The abstract paintings hanging on the walls were like mysterious puzzles, adding a touch of artistic atmosphere to the entire space.

Sir, what would you like to drink?" The bartender handed over the menu, which seemed like an art piece adorned with golden white rose petals. Though there were only a few options, the prices were terrifyingly high.

"Sazerac," Yale glanced at the price per glass and couldn't help but quip, "Is your boss going broke or something?"

The bartender nodded with a smile but didn't respond, evidently not too pleased with the prices either.

Yale observed the entrance to the second floor, where guards were stationed. "Why are there guards over there?"

"The second floor is for VIP rooms, accessible only to members with a black diamond card," the bartender approached Luo Xiaobai, lowering his voice. "So, do you want to get in?"

"Yeah, but is there a way without buying a card?" He didn't want to be a fool, handing money over to Jonathan for nothing.

"There is a way..." the bartender extended his hand, appearing like a beggar awaiting alms. Yale instantly understood his meaning and pulled out a thousand-dollar bill from his wallet. "Is this enough?"

"Enough. Go to the restroom in the back and change into this," the bartender handed him a set of waiter's clothes. It seemed like he was to play the role of a wine server.

"See that? We have free labor every day to serve you drinks, and they even pay for the privilege. Same old routine, fifty-fifty split," the server next to the bartender chuckled.

"Isn't our boss so charming? All these young men throwing themselves at him." They glanced up at Yale, who had changed into his work attire, jokingly touching their chins in disbelief.

Holding a tray of drinks, Yale scrutinized the surroundings. "Geez, an 800,000-dollar bottle of Ronicon Emperor, he really knows how to enjoy himself. I'll capture him flirting with someone else later and show it to Grandpa. Haha, Jonathan's good days are over."

The second floor's decor was entirely different from the first, with black shiny brick walls, dim lighting, and mirrored floors giving an almost precarious feeling of being suspended in mid-air. The room was easy to find, on the right side of the corridor. Yale tried to keep his hat low, adjusted his black-framed glasses, and glanced at his reflection in the mirror on the ground. This should disguise him.

Following the bartender's reminder, he knocked three times on the door before opening it. Setting the drinks on the table, he stole glances at everything around him. Counting in his mind, he noticed there were a total of four people in the room. Through their shoes, he immediately recognized the man sitting on the left side, closest to him, as Jonathan.

"Is there any room for negotiation in this matter?" Jonathan was speaking to someone. Yale glanced at the other person, seeing a man with distinct facial features, deep eyes shining with a cold light, a high nose bridge, thin closed lips, and a lighter in hand, smoothly rotating in his hand, as if contemplating something.

His attire was a dark-toned suit, perfectly tailored to his muscular physique.