However, Samuel's clothes had gotten wet. Not wanting him to stay in them, Julian prepared to change him into pajamas. He had just loosened Samuel's tie and hadn't even started on the buttons when the man on the bed suddenly opened his eyes.

"What are you doing?" Samuel asked, his voice gravelly.

Samuel's eyes were watery from the fever, and in the dim room, he held a look of profound, peculiar intensity. Julian couldn't handle being stared at like that. He looked up, trying to sound composed. "Your clothes are damp. I'm changing you into something else."

Samuel said nothing, just kept his heavy, dark gaze fixed on him, his hot, strong hand gripping Julian's wrist tightly. Julian struggled but couldn't pull away, so he let it be, using his other hand to unbutton Samuel's shirt.

As he reached the abdomen, the hair below was vaguely visible. Julian blushed and let go, saying to Samuel, "Do it yourself... mm!"

Samuel pulled him straight into his arms.

Before Julian could struggle, two iron-like arms wrapped around him, pinning his body tightly. Julian's back was instantly pressed against Samuel's chest, unavoidably making contact with his scorching [—].

Ahhhhhhh.

How is Samuel still so aroused even with a fever?!

Julian was on the verge of a breakdown but had to endure it as Samuel held him in this overly intimate position. Samuel's body was truly boiling, his hot breath fanning against Julian's ear, quickly setting his neck on fire.

Ah, Julian, calm down! Maybe Samuel just thinks you feel cool and refreshing to hold? Stop filling your head with X-rated videos!!!

Fortunately, Samuel made no further moves, allowing Julian to regain a bit of his senses.

I don't know how much time passed, but the strength of the arms around him finally slackened. Julian took the chance to try to leave, but as soon as he moved, Samuel pulled his waist tighter.

After a few rounds of this, Julian got annoyed. He intentionally threatened Samuel fiercely: "If you don't let go, I'm going to start hating you."

He didn't know if Samuel heard him, but Samuel visibly loosened his grip. Julian quickly scrambled off the bed. Samuel had broken into a sweat, leaving Julian feeling sticky himself.

He could handle it, but Samuel still had a fever and couldn't stay in wet clothes, so he went to find some pajamas.

Samuel's bedroom was massive, with several identical doors. Julian opened them one by one, finally discovering the walk-in closet behind the third one.

Pajamas, pajamas... where are the pajamas?

Muttering to himself, Julian walked past the open-concept wardrobes, then his footsteps faltered, and he paused, feeling a flicker of curiosity.

A dress?

Why are there dresses in Samuel's closet?

Julian found it strange but didn't think too much of it yet. He even thought to himself, amused, Does Samuel like to sneak around and wear women's clothing just like me?

It wasn't until he ventured further in and saw the familiar suits on the wall that the smile vanished from Julian's face. He returned to the wardrobe where the dresses were hanging and, after checking the sizes, stood there, completely stunned.

Why was there a whole wall of Orca-style suits in Samuel's bedroom? And so many unopened women's clothes in his own size?

A thought that had been lurking in the depths of Julian's mind, one he never dared to admit, finally surfaced, hitting him with brutal clarity.

Before Julian could digest the shock, he seemed to realize something and whirled around—

Samuel had woken up at some point and was standing at the door with a complex expression. "Julian..."

Julian stared at him, his voice sounding strangely calm. "Samuel, are you 'Orca'?"

Samuel's Adam's apple bobbed. With great difficulty, he replied, "I am."

Julian asked again, "And you knew my online ID?"

"I did," Samuel admitted.

Julian's breath hitched. "When did you find out?"

Though Samuel's head was swimming with fever, he still recognized this as a lethal question. He didn't dare lie. "Before we shot our first commercial together."

He knew back then?

Julian's breath caught in his throat. He dug his nails into his palms, finally realizing—with a sense of belated ache—that he was deeply hurt.

It wasn't that Julian hadn't suspected it before; he just hadn't dared to acknowledge it. To admit the possibility meant exposing his own weakness—that he hadn't been able to move on from Samuel—and made his dates with "Orca" feel like nothing more than self-deception.

But there was something else, something that weighed even more heavily on Julian.

He looked up at Samuel, his throat tight and dry. "When you decided to mentor me, was it because you recognized my work ability, or because you had already seen my body?"

Ever since they shot that commercial together, Samuel's attitude toward him had changed. Back then, Julian had assumed his talent had impressed his boss, but now, he was plagued by a devastating suspicion.

Samuel's fever-bright, watery eyes widened, as if shocked that Julian could even ask such a thing.

Julian, feeling worse by the second, cold-heartedly pressed his point: "When you forced me to work under you, calling me into your office repeatedly for 'reports'—was that truly professional, or were there ulterior motives?"

Samuel looked almost desperate, but Julian didn't let him off the hook. He added coldly, "Samuel, when you watched me work in front of you wearing a suit, do you dare guarantee you never fantasized about how I looked in a skirt?"

Samuel closed his eyes, his voice strained with pain. "Julian, I fell for you a long time ago. It's not something I can control."It should have been a romantic confession, but coming from Samuel, it sounded like a desperate plea for acquittal.

Julian struggled to breathe, as if all the oxygen had been drained from his lungs.

"But my mentoring had nothing to do with that," Samuel added quickly. "You shouldn't doubt your own excellence. I genuinely wanted to cultivate your talent."

Julian said nothing. He felt a profound sense of humiliation.