HIDE: A DANGEROUS AFFAIR

ELEVEN

Their flight was smooth, and they arrived at one of Wilson's mansions in Seattle. It was more of an estate due to how serene and secluded it was. The property was in the middle of a rainforest looking-like environment with no other civilization around. From what Wilson explained, the day he and Brandon had to go to work, they had to use the chopper to get to town and then get driven to the office. Wilson had stayed that he would create a schedule that wouldn't be tough on Brandon.

Brandon was lost in the beauty of his new home, causing him to gawk at it. The place was adorned with trees and flowers of a different kind. There was a large-sized pool, a fountain in the middle facing the glass door, and his favorite, the best of exotic birds. Adding to that, they place crawled with guards armed to the teeth. They looked like they were guarding the president or preparing for far. Brandon knew that he would never get used to such scary men.

“Come. We're home.”

As they stepped inside, the maids were already lined up to receive Wilson. The man lived like royalty. He barely gave them attention as he passed in a hurry. Brandon, however, slowed his pace to smile and quickly wave at them. Some responded with a smile and nod, while others fixed their gaze on the floor.

Brandon understood. Working for Wilson was like working for Satan himself. His boyfriend was insufferable on a normal day. Now that things were tough, he might really grow horns, and being around him meant being meticulous because his anger might send you to hell for real.

The inside of the house was homely. More beautiful than the outside. Everything came in two shades; gray and beige. The floors were made of granite and the wall, marble. It sparkled so much that the entire house was literally like a mirror. Orchards of flowers were here and there, and expensive furnishings. This was just a glimpse of what Brandon saw. He would tour later.

As if reading his mind, “I'm sorry I can't take you around now. I don't want to assign anyone else to do it. We'll take a tour later. For now, freshen up and go down for dinner,” Wilson instructed as they got to the Master's bedroom. “You can wear my clothes. I'm only a bit bigger, so they should fit. We'll go shopping for you soon.”

“Okay,” Brandon simply answered. He already felt tired from the entire commotion and anxiety. “Are you going out? Or, would you like to freshen up with me?”

“I would, baby. But, I have a business to handle. Just take care of you. Let me clear my schedule. I'll join you shortly.”

“Okay,” Brandon answered again.

“You've been such a good boy for Daddy. I'll make sure to reward you,” Wilson promised, a smirk forming at the corners of his lips.

Brandon nodded. As Wilson broke away from their kiss and tried leaving, Branson held to his hand, standing upright. “Be careful,” he warned, embracing and kissing him.

“I'm not dying today,” Wilson said, smiling and leaving the room.

Brandon slumped back to the bed, sprawling himself over the king-sized furniture. He stared at the sparkling chandler that sat pretty against the ceiling of the room. He wished that was how his life was; organized, safe, and pretty with the man he loved by his side worrying about nothing else but how to please him.

Brandon sprang up and headed to the closed door by his left, which he assumed would be the bathroom. To his astonishment, it was a walk-in closet. Wilson wasn't kidding when he instructed him to use his clothes because the place looked like an imported boutique with high-end clothing, shoes, and jewelry. He knew that Wilson was rich. Getting closer to him now showed that he was rich-rich. Like super wealthy.

Sighing, he closed the door and left for another, which he hadn't noticed earlier. Opening this one, it was the bathroom. And like the rest of Wilson's things, this space wasn't any short in decoration. The bathtub was oval and placed in the middle, big enough to house four persons. There were two golden showerheads and two toilets at the far end of the space. A Vanity Fair that held the toiletries.

Brandon undressed, placing his dirty clothes outside, intending to properly put them away later when he was done. He stepped in and made sure to have a long, soothing, and comforting bath, shampooing and conditioning his hair before washing his entire body with the lavender-vanilla-scented body wash.

Done, he wrapped himself in a bathrobe and proceeded to brush and floss. Feeling refreshed, he came back to the room. His clothes were gone. A set of gray sweatpants and a blank shirt was neatly placed on the bed with a note and bouquet of roses. Not knowing the content of the note, he reached for it first.

'Join me for dinner, baby. I'm waiting. The roses are to welcome you to our home. Love, Wilson, your boyfriend! PS: don't wear briefs. Just the sweatpants. I want you, commando.' Brandon couldn't contain the smile that overtook his face, accompanied by a blush of excitement and shyness.

He picked the bouquet, and smelled it, inhaling the deep, subtle scent of fresh roses. It surprised him that Wilson, despite all that was ongoing, could still be thoughtful, pay attention to little details that meant so much to Brandon, and play dirty. He was truly a man of many talents.

Wilson's gestures made it easier for Brandon to forget the life-threatening situation or encounters they had. Mostly, he only looked forward to seeking comfort in a place in felt protected. And, that was what trigger Wilson so much. When he wasn't able to do that. Protect Brandon.

Brandon was ready in his chosen outfit, applying the cologne that he had seen on the Vanity Fair. It made him have a hint of Wilson's signature smell. He also combed his hair and beard, looking breathtaking and ready to meet his boyfriend, Or, as he mischievously thought at that moment, meet his date.

As Brandon ascended the stairs carrying his bouquet of roses, smiling sweetly at them and staring ahead, eager to meet Wilson, his eyes fell on something that caused him to stop in his track at the end of the stairs. It couldn't be. His heart began to pound. But, Wilson had said that this place was protected and only known to a few. He must be mistaken. Not again. Not now. He couldn't handle another drama. He would lose it. It was already too much on him.

A woman stood with her back towards Brandon, her face slightly tilted, which made it possible for Brandon to guess who it was. Vivian. Was it her? Of course not. It wasn't possible. Right? Was it really Vivian?