[BL] CRAVING HIM: Addicted to His Voice-Chapter 319: A Chance for Redemption

~Zayn’s POV~

I finally walked over, feeling the profound exhaustion settle in my bones. I didn’t say a word, just collapsed into the empty chair next to Evric.

I looked at the people surrounding me, my fiancé, my best friends, the people who were my true family.

"Well?" I asked, a huge, tired smile stretching across my face. "What did you all think of The JOL?"

They responded in perfect unison.

"Perfection."

We all laughed and smiled, sharing the moment.

We sat, talked, and drank celebratory glasses of champagne until the late hours. The conversation flowed easily, stories from the rush, jokes about clumsy customers, and predictions for the future.

One by one, they started saying their goodbyes. Nicki and Jaxon left first, followed by Dean and Clara, who promised to come back for a quiet, romantic dinner. Nantam was the last to leave, giving me a final hug and a knowing look of pride.

Then it was just Evric and me. We moved through the silent dining room together, checking the locks and setting the alarm. Evric, true to his word, had given me his entire day, not once rushing me away.

Finally, we locked the front doors of The JOL. I rested my head on his shoulder on the way to the car, completely spent but overflowing with happiness. We went home.

~Evric’s POV~

Two days after The JOL’s grand opening, the phone on my desk rang with a restricted number. I almost let it ring out, but something in the back of my mind made me answer.

"Mr. Draeven, this is Hudson Smith," the voice on the other end said immediately. There was no arrogance, just a strained formality.

He didn’t waste time. He begged me. He pleaded with me to see him, to grant him another meeting.

"I’m ready to make things right, Evric," he said, skipping the formalities this time. "And I’m truly sorry for everything that happened the last time I came to your office. It was inexcusable."

We spoke for several minutes, the conversation entirely one-sided as he poured out his regret and his need to connect with Zayn. I listened, my face impassive.

I finally agreed, not for his sake, but because if this was even a small way to give Zayn the closure he might need, then I was ready. Even if it meant he’d be angry with me at first.

The call ended shortly after.

I buried myself in work for the next couple of hours, focusing on cold numbers until I could fully detach from the emotional weight of the upcoming meeting.

Finally, the agreed-upon time arrived. I picked up my jacket and my briefcase and left my office, heading for the neutral meeting point we had set.

When I arrived at the restaurant, Hudson was already there, waiting. He stood up as I approached the table.

I walked closer and sat down without prompting.

Hudson began immediately, his voice low and sincere. "Thank you for coming, Evric."

I sat down, crossing my arms over my chest. I didn’t offer him a greeting. "What is it you want, Mr. Smith?"

He leaned forward, placing his hands flat on the table, a stark contrast to his posturing last time. "I want to talk to my son. I realize I handled that encounter poorly."

"Poorly is an understatement," I corrected him. "You treated him like a corporate asset to be acquired. Zayn is not a negotiation."

Hudson sighed, running a hand over the back of his neck. He looked genuinely regretful. "You were right. I’m a businessman, and that colors my interactions. I came here today to plead for your help."

"I see the bond you two have. I see the protection you offer him. Zayn trusts you completely, and I respect that. I respect you."

The shift in his demeanor was absolute. This was a mature man seeking guidance, not a rival trying to assert dominance.

"I don’t know how to talk to him without pushing him away, Evric," he admitted. "He’s spent his whole life disappointed by me, and all I want is to tell him I’m proud of him. I want him to know that I see his life, that I respect it. I want to make things right... to tell him I’m sorry for everything. Please, Evric... I just want a chance with him."

I took a moment, letting his words sink in. "I have no reason not to consider your request now," I stated plainly. "The first time I refused to help wasn’t because I didn’t want to. It was because I didn’t like the way you demanded it."

I looked him straight in the eye. "I want my man to be happy, and I will do anything for him. But this is where my commitment ends."

I leaned forward. "My condition is simple, Mr. Smith. If I open this door for you, you must walk through it with zero expectations."

"You must respect his life, my position in it, and others. There is no business, no leverage. Just honesty. If he’s not ready or doesn’t want to see you, then you have to stay away until he is ready. No control. No demanding."

He nodded immediately. "Agreed. Entirely. I just need to know how to start. How do I start without failing? Please, Evric, help me."

I considered his plea. "I already have your number," I said. "You’ll have to give me time, enough time to speak with him first. This isn’t an easy request for me to make either."

"So have enough patience, and await my call anytime."

Hudson stood up, his face filled with relief, and clapped my shoulder lightly. "Thank you so much, Evric. I really appreciate this."

"It’s okay," I replied. I stood, offered a simple farewell, gave him a small, respectful nod, and left the place.

The initial plan had been to return home, but the emotional weight of the meeting changed my mind. I knew I couldn’t just drop this news over the phone.

I told my driver to change course immediately. "Drive to Zayn’s house."

When we arrived, I rang the bell. Within a minute, Zayn opened the door, his expression turning to surprised delight when he saw me.

He hugged me tightly. "Babe! You called earlier, but you didn’t mention you were coming over."

"I just wanted to surprise you," I lied easily, the truth still too heavy to share.

"Great! You really got me," he said, smiling widely. He pulled me inside.

"Have you eaten?" he asked, already steering me toward the kitchen.

I told him I hadn’t. He instantly brightened. "Perfect. I have something delicious I want you to try. It’s an experimental dish from The JOL."

"Okay," I agreed, needing the distraction.

After I ate his truly delicious, comforting meal, and after the plates were cleared, I started looking for the right moment. The comfortable silence of the night made the task seem impossible.

I needed to tell him that his father...