Veil System: Running a Model, High-End Escort and Marriage Agency
Chapter 50: Stay with me

Chapter 50: Stay with me

They ended up sitting there, tangled together in the middle of this brand-new room, Justin’s body curling in on itself like he could physically keep the pain from swallowing him whole. Sasha’s arms wrapped around him, holding him together in ways even he couldn’t.

And shit—he wasn’t a robot. He wasn’t some unfeeling machine who could just delete the pain like it was a bad email. His parents were gone, and no matter how much he wished it weren’t true, it was.

The worst part?

He never even got to say goodbye.

They’d been away for a month on a business trip, and now—now they were just gone. Just like that. No warning. No last words.

But even if he had gotten a goodbye, it wouldn’t have made this hurt less. It wasn’t like they would’ve said, "Hey, Justin, we’re about to fucking die, so let’s have one last sentimental moment." No. They would’ve lied. Given him some cliché bullshit like It’s okay, we’ll always be with you—and that would’ve just made everything worse.

Justin exhaled sharply, shaking, his face pressing deeper into Sasha’s shoulder.

She was crying too.

Not loud. Not dramatic. But when he finally turned his head just enough to look at her, he saw it—the silent tears slipping down her face, her lips pressed tight like she was trying to hold it together for him.

Because she wasn’t just crying for him.

She was crying for them too.

She’d known his parents her whole damn life. Since she was young enough to barely understand shit, they’d been there. His mom had practically been her second mother, spoiling her like she was the daughter she never had.

And his dad?

His dad had been something even more.

Sasha had grown up without a father, but Mr. Black never let her feel that absence. She’d called him Dad before she even knew what that meant, and when her mom had tried to stop her—tried to remind her that wasn’t really her father—he had insisted.

"You keep calling me Dad, you hear me? ’Cause that’s what you are to me, Sasha—family—my daughter."

And he had treated her like exactly that.

So yeah, she understood Justin’s pain. She felt it too.

Maybe that was why they had always been so damn close. Maybe that was why, despite her being his personal maid, they had grown up like siblings—real, annoying, bickering-ass siblings. Maybe that was why Justin punished her every single time she tried to call him "Mr." or bowed like some formal idiot.

He hated that shit.

And right now?

He just hated everything.

Sasha sniffled, wiping her own tears with the back of her hand, but her voice was still shaky when she spoke.

"You know, for someone who acts all big and scary, you’re so fucking stubborn."

Her words were soft, teasing, but her grip around him only tightened. She felt his silent sorrow—the way his chest trembled against hers, the way he refused to just let go completely. As if he was holding onto his pride even now, in front of her.

Sasha exhaled, her breath warm against his neck.

"Damn idiot," she whispered, pulling him even closer.

Justin’s body gave out again—this time, she was ready. She guided him toward the bed, her arms still wrapped around him as she helped him onto the mattress. The moment he hit the sheets, the bed practically swallowed him whole—the comfort of it, the exhaustion pressing down like a ton of bricks.

Sasha lay down beside him, arms still tight around his frame, as if she could somehow glue him back together just by holding him like this.

And the craziest part?

Justin didn’t mind.

He had no idea how, but he was actually okay with this girl seeing him this vulnerable. Maybe because she wasn’t just his maid. She wasn’t just his childhood friend. She was like his sister. His best friend. She was the closest person to him, just like Selena had been.

His body was shutting down, exhaustion sinking deep into his bones.

And yeah, no shit he was exhausted.

Between the board meetings, the whole system bullshit, hours of sex with Martinez, then more hours of sex with Chloe, then coming home just to be emotionally wrecked by Sasha—yeah, his ass was done.

His eyes started closing before he even realized it.

Sasha, still staring at him, felt something tighten in her chest.

There were no words for what she felt for him—not really.

It wasn’t something she could explain, not even to herself.

But she knew she loved him.

In so many ways she didn’t understand.

She spent minutes just looking at him—taking in every feature, every breath, the way his face softened now that sleep was creeping in. Then, finally, she leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead before standing up.

Time to get him comfortable.

She made quick work of it—undoing his tie, slipping off his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it off those broad-ass shoulders. Then came his belt, pants, socks—all of it, until he was left in just his boxers.

When she was done, she took a step back, hands on her hips, eyeing her work.

Then she sighed.

"Not only is he more handsome and attractive with that intoxicating manly scent," she muttered to herself, "but his little brother is bigger too, huh?" Sasha rolled her eyes and shook her head before grabbing the blanket and covering his ass up.

Not that she needed to see anything to know—she’d seen a fair share of his everything over the years. Hell, she could probably draw a detailed-ass map of his entire body with her eyes closed.

So yeah, she knew.

Still, she leaned down, kissing his forehead one last time, then turned to leave—

Except—

His hand snapped out, grabbed her wrist, and yanked softly.

She yelped, lost her balance, and fell straight back into the bed.

"Stay with me."

Justin’s voice was soft, sleepy, and dragged through her like a damn magnet.