I once had a secret, hidden relationship with Roman Pierce. He paid for my tuition, and I slept in his bed. Later, he told me he was at the age where he wanted to get married and have kids. So, I unilaterally ended things. Years later, we met again. I was accompanying my academic advisor to pitch him for a research investment. After a few too many drinks, I pinched his face and drunkenly ran my mouth: "I have money now. Here’s two thousand bucks. Let me top you just once!" Everyone else froze in sheer panic, scrambling to explain: "Mr. Pierce, he’s just wasted and talking nonsense! He really doesn't like men!" "Yeah, exactly! My senior colleague here has a girlfriend. They’re super serious." He just stared at me, a smirk playing on his lips that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Oh, really?" 1 Professor Miller had dragged us out to another networking dinner. All the way there, he wouldn't stop nagging us: "You kids, when I tell you to drink, you drink. When I tell you to talk, you talk. Stay sharp, all of you." A couple of the younger grad students grumbled quietly: "We’re researchers, not escorts..." Word on the street was that tonight’s investor didn't have much of a formal education. Apparently, he’d made his fortune scraping by in the gritty underworld years ago before hitting it big. The self-made, uncultured tycoons were always the worst at these dinner tables. We academics absolutely dreaded this part of the job. "Do you think I enjoy throwing away my dignity?" Professor Miller snapped. "Our research grants are gone. How am I supposed to support you guys? If we don't land this investment, I’ll have no choice but to cut your stipends and send you back to basic lab work." The van went dead silent. Everyone knew Miller wasn't having it easy either. With the funding pulled, he was more desperate than anyone. We arrived at the private dining room. Soon, the heavy door was pushed open. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Professor Miller." A deep, low baritone cut through the air. It immediately sparked whispers among the junior researchers: "I thought they said he was some uncultured thug? How is he this young and hot?" "God, his aura is insane..." I lifted my head, completely dazed. Five years. It was an encounter I was wholly unprepared for. Roman Pierce had changed significantly. He’d shed the jagged, reckless edge of his youth, dressed now in a perfectly tailored Tom Ford suit. Yet, the untamed wildness between his brows remained, only now it was tempered, making him seem heavier, more formidable. My advisor scrambled to his feet: "Mr. Pierce! A pleasure, truly a pleasure. These are my brightest doctoral candidates." Roman offered a curt nod and took the seat of honor at the head of the table. His gaze swept coldly over us. Miller shot us a look, and we all stood up to toast him. The female grad students who had been complaining moments ago were now practically tripping over themselves: "Mr. Pierce, a toast to you. It’s inspiring to see someone so young achieve so much." "Mr. Pierce, we are really looking forward to working with you." I shrank back into the corner, lowering my head as far as it would go. "Mr. Pierce, this is Asher Blake, my star PhD student," Miller announced, calling me out specifically. "Asher, don't just stand there. Come toast Mr. Pierce." I stood up rigidly. I picked up my glass, not daring to meet his eyes. "Good evening, Mr. Pierce." He just sat there. He didn't raise his glass. He just watched me in silence. Advisor Miller tried to smooth over the awkwardness: "This one is a bit of a wallflower. Usually just buries his head in his textbooks. Not much of a talker." Roman’s gaze landed on my face, slowly tracing my features inch by inch. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his tone measured and slow: "Loving to study... is a good thing." Miller quickly seized the opening: "Absolutely! Asher has been with me since his undergrad years. His capability is unquestionable. To be honest with you, Mr. Pierce, our project data is incredibly promising, it's just the capital..." He shot me a pointed look. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to look up and meet his stare: "Mr. Pierce, our data is solid, and the market applications are broad. If you are willing to invest..." He let out a short scoff, cutting me off instantly: "Mr. Blake, I am a businessman. I only care about a beneficial exchange of interests." The phrase "exchange of interests" pierced through me like a knife. Right. An exchange of interests. In the past, he gave me money, and I slept with him. Now, I had an education, but I still had to beg him for money. 2 When I was eighteen, my dad racked up a mountain of gambling debt and ran away, leaving me behind. The debt collectors smashed our house to pieces. I lived like a stray dog, hiding out wherever I could. After school, I didn't dare go home. I barely had any money left in my pockets. There was a cybercafe near my high school where an overnight pass cost twenty bucks. The owner looked like a gang leader—a shock of bleached blond hair and sleeves full of tattoos. That place was a haven for delinquents, reeking of cheap smoke and clicking keyboards. I stood at the door, hesitating for a long time before I dared to walk in. "I... I want an overnight pass." He looked up. He had high brow bones and narrow, sharp eyes. "You an adult?" He radiated a dangerous energy that terrified me. I frantically pulled out my ID. Thank God. I had just turned eighteen last month. The cybercafe had small private booths with a computer and a tiny, narrow sofa. I put my backpack down, read my textbooks, and did practice tests. When I got hungry, I gnawed on half a cold bagel I had saved from lunch. When I got tired, I curled up on that tiny sofa. It was hard, and it got freezing at night. But it was the cheapest place I could find. At least no one was coming in the middle of the night to smash windows or throw red paint. For the next few days, I went straight there after school. Finally, the umpteenth time I handed over my ID, Roman looked up, visibly annoyed: "You're a student. Shouldn't you be studying? Why the hell are you always at an internet cafe?" I opened my mouth, then lowered my head and muttered: "None of your business..." He cursed under his breath and ignored me. Until one late night, a drunk guy in the booth next to mine kicked my door open. "You little brat, hiding out here?!" "If you can't pay back the cash, that's fine. I know some guys who'd love a pretty boy like you. Come on, I'll find you a way out!" I struggled frantically to get away. He kicked me to the ground, raising his fist: "Don't be a ungrateful little bitch! You want me to kill you?" Hearing the commotion, Roman stormed over, grabbed the guy by the collar, and threw him out the front door. He kicked the guy viciously while he was down: "You dare start shit in my territory? You got a death wish?" He hit hard. The guy didn't stop wailing. When Roman came back inside, his anger hadn't faded. He glared at me: "If you're not playing games, why the fuck are you practically living here?" "I... I'm surfing the web..." "Your monitor is turned off! What web are you surfing?!" He impatiently tried to kick me out. "Hurry up and go home! This ain't a place for a good student like you!" I refused to move. After a long silence, I whispered: "I... I don't have a home." He scratched his head in frustration, grabbed my backpack, and said: "Follow me." Behind the cybercafe was a rundown one-bedroom apartment. It was a mess. Clothes piled on the sofa, empty beer cans on the coffee table. He pointed to the room. "Here. Ten bucks a night. You staying or not?" I had no other choice, and no energy to worry about whether it was safe. "I'm staying." He tossed me a spare key, turned around, and left. 3 Roman was rarely home. Sometimes he was at the cafe, sometimes God knows where running the streets. I went straight there every day after school. I'd buy an extra plain roll from the cafeteria at noon to eat for dinner. On the fifth day of living there, I was gnawing on my cold roll when he pushed the door open. "Move," he grunted, frowning. I clutched my bread and automatically scooted over on the sofa. He dropped a massive bag of takeout BBQ on the table and started eating. The smell of roasted meat filled the room. I chewed my dry roll, secretly swallowing my saliva. He glanced at me: "You want some?" I asked cautiously: "Does it cost extra?" He suddenly laughed. "If you eat, you're on cleanup duty." To me back then, those few skewers of meat were absolute salvation. After that, he started coming home a bit more often, and he'd always bring food. Sometimes BBQ, sometimes lo mein, sometimes hot soup. It smelled so incredible that, years later, I still remember exactly how it tasted. He would watch me wolf down the food and laugh: "Asher, you got a massive appetite, don't you?" Honestly, I was just starving. I skipped breakfast, ate the cheapest thing for lunch, and had a cold roll for dinner. Whatever he brought back was the only real meal I had all day. After eating, I'd lean against the sofa and study. He’d play video games next to me, occasionally lighting a cigarette when he got bored. I habitually stayed up late studying. When he checked the time, he’d bark at me: "Asher, roll into bed and go to sleep." I'd mumble an "okay" and slowly get up. I couldn't help but warn him: "Roman, smoking is bad for your health." He didn't care. "Life and death are up to fate. Riches are up to heaven." I cautiously tested the waters: "Can I try a drag?" His eyes turned lethal: "You want me to break your legs?" I slept in the bedroom; he usually crashed on the sofa after gaming. The sofa was small. He was tall, and he couldn't even stretch his legs out. "Roman, why don't you sleep in the bed?" He shot me a look, a half-smile forming. "What, two grown men cuddling up together?" I felt embarrassed. The bed was narrow. Two guys would definitely be cramped. But Roman was the type who could pull the covers over his head and fall asleep instantly. I never thought I'd cross paths with someone like him. He was so fierce. He fought brutally. Even the high school bullies were terrified of his name. And me, the teachers' pet, somehow ended up sharing a weird, harmonious life with this gang boss in a rundown apartment. Eventually, I completely ran out of money. "Roman, the rent... can I pay you after I graduate college?" He raised an eyebrow. "Can you do laundry, cook, and clean? Work off your debt." From then on, I took over all the chores. He even started paying me a "salary." Thanks to that money, I could finally afford full meals at school. The days I lived there became the most secure time of my life. He had a lot of friends, guys and girls. One guy saw the spotless apartment and gasped: "Boss, why is your place so clean? You hiding a sugar baby in here? If Stella finds out, she'll cry herself to death." I had seen this "Stella." Tall, glamorous, stunning figure. Word was she'd been chasing Roman for a long time. One day, she stood at the door with red eyes, screaming: "Tell that little vixen to come out here! I want to see what she looks like!" Roman casually grabbed me by the collar and dragged me to the door. "Take a look." The group of friends stood frozen. "Holy shit! You got a boyfriend?!" Roman leaned against the doorframe, arrogant as ever: "I like men. Stop wasting your time on me, Stella." Stella's heart shattered completely. I followed him back inside, hesitating for a long time. I wanted to ask if he really liked men, or if it was just an excuse to reject her. But I couldn't get the words out. For some reason, my heart wouldn't calm down. Why did I even care who he liked? He stared at me, frowning: "What is it?" "Just... what are we having for dinner?" He let out a laugh, tossing a bag of walnuts at me. "Eat these. Heard they're good for the brain. Perfect for you." That day, he proudly showed off how he could crush walnuts with his bare hands. "Cool, right?" Honestly, a little dumb. Of course, I didn't dare say that out loud. I asked him: "Roman, why'd you dye your hair blond?" He got defensive: "What do you mean blond? It's gold!" Me: "Oh, so like a golden retriever..." "Are you calling me a dog?!" He shot me a warning glare: "Asher, you got a death wish today?" But this time, I wasn't scared. Spending so much time with him, I realized he was all bark and no bite with me. One day, I carefully told him: "Roman, I want to apply to the State Tech University. It's in the suburbs, I'd just have to take two buses to get there." He shoved a handful of crushed walnuts into my mouth: "You think a top-tier university is that easy to get into? Better eat up and fix that wooden brain of yours." 4 But right before my final college entrance exams, a few debt collectors ambushed me. They snatched my exam admission ticket. "Call your deadbeat dad and tell him to pay up. Otherwise, I'm burning this right now." "Heard you get good grades, huh? Too bad. Say goodbye to college." I frantically called my dad, but the line was dead. In pure desperation, I called Roman. He rushed over, out of breath. He just asked coldly: "How much does he owe you?" They said, "Thirty grand." He turned around and left. Not long after, he came back carrying a bag of cash. The moment he reached his hand out to me, my nose stung. He gripped my wrist tightly, pulling me out of that dark alley. Walking behind him, I wiped away pathetic tears. He turned around and glared at me fiercely: "You're a grown man, why are you crying? So annoying." During the two days of my exams, he canceled all his business and waited outside the testing center. The night I finished my last test, after dinner, I gathered all my courage and hugged him from behind. "Roman, you... you can sleep in the bed tonight." His body went completely rigid. "What do you mean by that?" "I heard you like men..." "And I can't afford to pay you back..." Honestly, with every day that the exams had approached, my anxiety grew. Once I graduated high school, I'd have no excuse to stay here. But I stubbornly wanted to be tied to him. He used thirty thousand dollars to sever the ties between me and my toxic family. But it also made the dynamic between him and me completely unequal. 5 Five years later, our positions hadn't changed at all. Back then, I needed money for school. Now, I needed money for research. He sat at the head of the table, watching impassively as I toasted him glass after glass. But he refused to give a straight answer: "I'll need more time to evaluate this project." What a ruthless capitalist face. I cursed him out in my head. By the end of the night, the alcohol had gone straight to my brain. My mind was buzzing. I looked at a face that looked remarkably like Roman's, and lunged forward, hugging him. I even reached up, pinching his cheeks left and right, inspecting him: "Hmm, you look just like him..." "I make three thousand bucks a month now! I'll give you two grand, you just have to sleep with me once, okay?" "And this time, I get to top!" As those words dropped, the entire room went dead silent. Professor Miller turned pale with absolute horror: "Mr. Pierce, please excuse him! My student has had too much to drink, he's just spouting nonsense!" Roman held his wine glass, staring at me with a dangerous amusement. "Student Blake is only offering me two thousand?" I grabbed his tie, arguing my case aggressively: "What's wrong with two grand? You're old and wrinkly now, you think you can still compete with the young guys?" "Oh? I'm old and wrinkly?" He laughed out of pure anger, his gaze sweeping over me with blatant aggression. "Well, I certainly can't compare to Student Blake—" "You were always so tight." "Mr. Pierce, he really is just drunk! He never talks this much normally..." Miller was sweating profusely. A junior female researcher jumped in to save me: "It's true! Mr. Pierce, please don't misunderstand, my senior really doesn't like men..." "He has a girlfriend! They are super stable..." Before she could finish, Roman's face darkened drastically. The hand gripping my waist suddenly tightened. "Is that right?" I looked at his face, inches from mine. I opened my mouth. "Blergh..." I threw up all over his expensive suit. ... 6 The next morning, I was getting chewed out in Professor Miller's office. "Asher Blake, look at yourself! Usually I can't get three words out of you with a crowbar, but you get drunk and act like a maniac?! Huh?" "If a girl acts boy-crazy, fine! But you, a grown man, screaming about wanting to top an investor?! I have never heard of such a thing in my life!" "Two grand to sleep with you?! Do you hear yourself? Where are you gonna sleep with him, in your dorm?! Did you consider your roommates?! Are they supposed to stand guard at the door?!" I wished the floor would swallow me whole. "Professor, I... I'm sorry..." "Thank God Mr. Pierce has a good temper. You puked all over him yesterday, and he didn't even get mad. He even had the decency to have someone drive you home." Miller caught his breath and issued his final order: "Today, you are coming with me to his company to apologize in person! And your attitude better be sincere!" "Whether this project survives or dies depends entirely on Roman Pierce nodding his head." On the way to his corporate headquarters, Miller gave me a rundown of Roman's legendary rise. "Don't underestimate him just because he doesn't have a college degree. He's ruthless and has incredible foresight! A few years ago, he made a killing in real estate, and now he's pivoting to the tech sector. He's the new golden boy of the industry..." Five years. He had gone so far, becoming completely unreachable. While I felt trapped in a time loop. Studying, studying, and still broke as a joke. Roman's company occupied the top floors of a massive CBD skyscraper, overlooking the bustling city. His secretary led us into the reception room. He still had that same cold, aloof demeanor. Miller approached him with a fawning smile: "Mr. Pierce, I am so sorry for the absolute disaster yesterday. My student here... sigh. I brought him here specifically to apologize to you!" He shot me a look. I braced myself and stepped forward, not daring to meet his eyes: "Mr. Pierce, I... I drank too much yesterday. I am so sorry. Please forgive me." Miller chimed in from the side: "Yes, exactly! Yesterday was the anniversary of his ex-girlfriend's death! The alcohol and the grief just went straight to his head..." My heart skipped a beat. This old man literally just pulls lies out of thin air. Roman raised an eyebrow, a mocking glint in his eye: "The anniversary of her death? Tell me, Student Blake, how did your ex pass away?" Miller answered for me: "Terminal illness! A tragic terminal illness." He quickly added, "But don't worry, Mr. Pierce, Asher has moved on. His mental state is very stable, he definitely won't delay the research progress!" "Yesterday was purely the alcohol. He absolutely does not have any inappropriate thoughts about you. His sexual orientation is perfectly normal, you can be 100% assured." To add credibility, Miller added: "He actually has a new girlfriend now." Roman's eyes went pitch black: "Is that so?" "Yes, yes, a junior from our university. She chased him for a long time. Everyone in the lab knows, they're practically glued at the hip." "Rest assured, he has absolutely no ulterior motives regarding you." Me: "..." Old Miller gave me a look that said, 'Look how smart your professor is.' Roman stayed silent for a moment before saying calmly: "That's good to hear." Miller struck while the iron was hot: "Mr. Pierce, about our project..." He paused, seeming to weigh his options: "I am still very interested in the project. However, my company needs to understand some of the finer details... Would it be possible to borrow Student Blake for a few days? To assist us with our evaluation?" Miller's eyes lit up: "No problem at all! Use him however you need! Asher is the brightest student I've ever taught." Me: "..." Did Old Miller just sell me out that easily? 7 After leaving Roman's office... "Professor, do I really have to go?" Miller patted my shoulder, lecturing me earnestly: "Asher, this involves the life or death of our entire department! This involves everyone's stipends and graduation! Can't you just make a little sacrifice?" "Besides, you're a grown man, what are you afraid of? How exactly is he gonna 'use' you?" "At worst, you'll just do some extra grunt work and get a little tired." "I..." How was I supposed to explain the exact ways he could 'use' me... Seeing how old Miller was, I didn't dare give him a heart attack with the truth. Seeing me hesitate, Miller lowered his voice: "I still have a spot open for the international symposium. I'll save it for you." "Professor, I'll go." For that, I would walk through fire. I braced myself and reported to Roman's company. "Engineer Blake, please have a seat. Mr. Pierce's meeting isn't quite over yet. Just wait a moment." While waiting, the friendly receptionist started chatting with me. I couldn't hold back my curiosity, asking quietly: "Hey, how old are the boss's kids?" The receptionist looked shocked: "Kids? Mr. Pierce doesn't have kids." None? "Wait, he didn't have any?" Back then, he had literally said he wanted to get married and have kids. The receptionist looked at me like I was crazy: "Mr. Pierce isn't even married." My heart skipped a beat. He still wasn't married? A complex mix of secret joy and bitter sorrow welled up inside me. After processing it for a few seconds, I muttered under my breath: "Oh, so nobody wanted him..." The second the words left my mouth. "Asher." A clearly displeased voice sounded right behind me. I jumped out of my skin. I'm dead... Why did he have to hear that exactly? 8 I followed Roman to his office. My mind was still echoing with the phrase, "Isn't even married." During my junior year of college, he had calmly informed me: "Asher, let's just end this." I blankly asked him why. He just said: "I'm at the age where I need to get married. You think I can just mess around with a guy forever?" I cried and begged him: "Just... wait for me one more year. I'll graduate..." He sneered. "Wait for what? Can you give me a child?" "Asher, stop making yourself look so cheap." It was true. I had always been cheap, throwing myself at him. Starting from when I was eighteen, when I willingly threw my arms around him. Back then, he had tried to push me away: "Asher, you should live a normal life." "Don't get mixed up with someone like me. There's no future here." I had cried pathetically: "Roman, you're a good person..." He laughed like it was a joke: "Are you brain-damaged? I have no money, no education, I'm years older than you. You're throwing yourself at me over thirty grand?" "With your face, who knows how many girls will be chasing you later. Don't ruin your own path." I stubbornly clung to him, refusing to let go: "Roman, I... I don't even know if I like men or women..." "I just know that I like you." He fell silent. I stood on my tiptoes, clumsily trying to kiss him. But he was too tall, and even with my head tilted back, I could only graze his jawline. He stared at me, then suddenly laughed. He tilted his head down and kissed me fiercely: "If I don't lower my head, how are you ever gonna reach?" That day, in that tiny apartment, we tangled in the sheets from the afternoon until the sun went down. His sweat dripped onto my neck. In that endless tidal wave, I was nervous and clumsy, but a secret joy bloomed in my heart. I spent almost that entire summer break in his tiny apartment. After taking the money, my mom had vanished to God knows where. Roman sold his internet cafe. When I asked why, he just said: "Don't worry about it. Off to make big money." He became incredibly busy, coming home near dawn every day, often covered in fresh bruises. When I applied ointment to his wounds, my heart ached: "Roman, why are you always getting hurt? Can't you quit that job?" Though he never said it, I knew he was working as muscle at a shady nightclub. He brushed it off: "You call these scratches injuries?" When I kept sulking, he would just shut me up with a kiss. That summer, we loved each other desperately on that tiny bed, as if trying to exhaust all our energy. Before college started, he took me to the mall. With a wave of his hand, he bought me a new iPhone, a laptop, and a whole new wardrobe. We even went to see the ocean together. The salty sea breeze, the circling seagulls, the endless expanse of blue. It was my first time seeing the ocean. I was so excited I took countless photos. I secretly set a photo of us together as my phone's lock screen. But when he saw it, he frowned: "Change it." I froze. He didn't want anyone to know about our relationship. I silently lowered my head, fighting the sting in my nose, and deleted the photo. He handed me a debit card. "Just focus on your studies from now on. Don't keep running back here. I don't have time to see you."
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