Loyalties will be tested. Hearts will be broken. Desire will be their downfall. Middlesbrough's underworld is a dangerous game, and Matthew Smith finds himself right in the middle of it. A once-feared gang leader, he is now forced to be a pawn in a deadly cat-and-mouse game. Matthew's only shot at freedom is helping the police bring down Mr. K, the elusive mafia boss of the city. The only problem is that the detective he is forced to work with is the same man who arrested him years ago. Masahiro Payne is everything Matthew hates: cold, calculating, and relentless. But their only hope for survival is by pretending to be a happy couple, blending in amidst dangerous crime, deceit, and power struggles. The closer they find themselves to taking down Mr. K's empire, the more they are attracted to one another, an affair too potent to turn from. As their undercover mission spirals into a web of lies and hidden desires, they face a growing threat from all sides. But the greatest risk is the one they can't control-their own feelings. With every touch, every stolen kiss, the line between their fake relationship and real emotions blurs. In a world of betrayal, trust is a luxury, and falling for each other may be the deadliest mistake of all. Can they survive the deadly mafia games or will their passion be their demise?
View MoreThe next morning, the memory of Matthew’s indifference clung to Masahiro like a weight, sour and unresolved. He tried to drown it out by burying himself in paperwork, but every time the door creaked, or footsteps echoed in the hall, he stiffened, half-expecting Matthew to appear again.Sure enough, the door creaked open, and Matthew stepped inside, carrying a first-aid kit. He didn’t ask for permission or exchange pleasantries… just strode over to the bed and sat down, casually nodding for Masahiro to join him."Time to change the bandages," Matthew said, his voice even, flipping open the kit without looking up.Masahiro’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. His injured arm still needed attention, and as much as he hated it, Matthew was the one who had been helping him with the dressings. Without a word, Masahiro sat down beside him, feeling the tension thickening the air.Matthew started unwrapping the bandage, his fingers brushing against Masahiro’s skin. The contact sent an uncomfor
The office of the police station was dimly lit, with papers and photographs scattered across the desk. Lewis leaned over a large map pinned to a corkboard while Matthew sat back in a chair, the tattoo map from Ridley’s back spread out in his hands.“Something’s not adding up,” Lewis muttered, squinting at the intricate details of the tattoo.“What do you mean?”Lewis tapped the edge of the map. “Look at this… this doesn’t match the area around Spiced Cherry at all.”Matthew was speechless, just staring at the map in front of him.Lewis grabbed a marker, circling a few points on the official map. “The coordinates we pulled don’t line up with the ghost brothel’s location. The Spiced Cherry and Ridley’s map lead to completely different places.” Matthew frowned, leaning forward. His fingers traced the inked lines on the image of Ridley’s
The apartment was quiet except for the sound of Matthew returning from the market, the soft rustling of bags as he set them down on the kitchen counter. He glanced at the clock—late afternoon already. It had been a few days since Masahiro’s injury, and although things had returned to a fragile sense of normalcy, there was still an unspoken tension in the air. That strange, unnamable thing that now seemed to hang between them after their last encounter.Matthew sighed, grabbing the bottle of pills from the counter and filling a glass of water. It was time for Masahiro’s medication again, a task he had taken on without much fuss, but with a growing sense of awkwardness. The last time he’d walked into Masahiro’s room, things had taken an unexpected turn, and though neither of them had spoken about it since, the weight of that moment still lingered.He walked down the hall, knocking briefly before pushing open the door."Time for your meds," he said, his voice carry
The next morning, the sunlight filtered through the blinds as Matthew made his way to Masahiro’s room, the routine already becoming familiar. He didn’t bother knocking this time, simply opened the door and entered."Time for your meds—"His voice trailed off as his eyes landed on Masahiro, sprawled on the bed with the sheets tangled around his legs. His face was twisted in concentration, and there was no mistaking what he was trying to do.For a moment, neither of them moved. Masahiro froze, his face flushing in both anger and embarrassment as he struggled to pull his hand away. But with one arm in a cast, he was clearly having difficulty.“What the hell, Smith?” Masahiro snapped, his voice echoing with a mix of shame and fury. He glanced down, humiliated, and tried to pull himself together, frantically covering himself with a pillow.Matthew smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. "Hey, you could’ve ask
Masahiro blinked awake, his vision hazy and unfocused. A dull ache pulsed through his body, especially his side where the gunshot wound still lingered. His surroundings slowly came into view, and the first thing he saw was Matthew, sitting beside the bed, arms crossed, staring at him with his usual mix of irritation and worry. But then, as his eyes adjusted more, Masahiro noticed a second figure… a familiar one. Standing just behind Matthew, with wide, worried eyes, was his cousin Yumi. "Yumi…?" he croaked, his throat dry and raspy. He felt sluggish, like he’d been run over by a freight train. Before he could say anything more, Yumi sprang forward, throwing her arms around him with such force that he winced. "Masahiro! You idiot!" she exclaimed; her voice high-pitched with panic. "Why didn’t you tell me you got shot?! Are you crazy?! I’ve been working all day and I get a call saying you’ve passed out in your apartment?!" Her words hit him in a rap
Yumi pushed open the bedroom door and immediately went to Masahiro’s side. Matthew watched her with a quiet unease as she knelt down beside him, her eyes scanning his body with practiced precision.There was a tenderness in the way she touched him… checking his pulse, brushing his hair away from his face. Her hands moved with an efficiency and familiarity that Matthew could not ignore.“Is he...?” Matthew started, his voice almost a whisper.Yumi didn’t look at him as she worked. She didn’t need to. She knew what she was doing.“He’ll be fine,” she replied curtly, but her gaze lingered on Masahiro’s face, and there was something more there… something that Matthew couldn’t quite place. Was it concern? Or something deeper?She finally turned to him, her eyes narrowing. “Why are you here?”Matthew blinked, thrown off by the directness of the question. “I
Matthew stood frozen in place, his heart hammering in his chest as he stared down at Masahiro’s crumpled form. The man who always had his cool, who could outsmart and outmaneuver anyone, was now lying motionless, unconscious on the floor. His mind raced, thoughts tumbling over each other in frantic chaos.´What the hell am I doing? ´His stomach churned as he tried to suppress the rising tide of panic, but it surged anyway. Every time he tried to convince himself that it was nothing more than a drunken stumble, his eyes betrayed him… Masahiro’s pallor, his stillness, the way he hadn’t even made a sound when he collapsed, rattled him.´Focus, ´ Matthew ordered himself, gripping Masahiro’s body and lifting him up, adrenaline surging through him, making the task seem easier than it should have been. It was a strange contrast, the sharpness in his limbs despite the dizziness threatening to overpower him.
Matthew lounged on the couch in the living room, the flickering glow of the television illuminating his face as he scrolled through channels mindlessly.The sound of Masahiro´s door´s room creaking open drew his attention. Masahiro stepped out of his bedroom, and despite the cast encasing his right arm, he looked stunning. He wore a fitted black shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders and trim waist, the fabric hugging his toned physique perfectly. The dark shirt was paired with dark blue slim-fit jeans that showcased his long legs and made him look effortlessly stylish. His black boots added an edge to the outfit, while a minimalist silver watch on his left wrist gleamed subtly against his skin. The overall effect was striking; he exuded an air of confidence that was impossible to ignore.Matthew raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Where do you think you’re going?”Masahiro paused, casting a glance over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “That’s n
Matthew entered Masahiro’s room, carrying a tray of food with deliberate care. He placed it on the nightstand, his gaze flickering to Masahiro, who was lounging in his chair, staring blankly out the window.“Dinner’s here,” Matthew said, trying to keep his tone neutral.Masahiro didn’t even glance at him. “I’m not eating that,” he muttered.Matthew blinked, his jaw tightening. “What do you mean? It’s what you asked for.”“I don’t want it.” Masahiro’s voice was clipped, dismissive.Matthew’s patience was already running thin. “You need to eat,” he said firmly. “The doctor said—”Masahiro cut him off with a sharp laugh, humorless and bitter. “I don’t care what the doctor said. I’m tired of being treated like some invalid. I’m not helpless, Smith.”The words struck a nerve. Matthew folded his arms, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You think I want to be here, catering to you?” he shot ba
"Thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine..."Knock! Knock!The sharp sound of a truncheon rapping against the cell bars broke Matthew's focus mid-push-up."Matthew Smith!" the prison guard barked.Matthew paused, caught his breath, and stood up. "Yeah," he replied, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he straightened his posture."Let’s go," the guard ordered, unlocking the cell door.Without a word, Matthew walked toward the open door. As he stepped out, a chorus of whistles and crude remarks erupted from his cellmates. He ignored them. He had learned long ago that responding wasn’t worth the effort. Today, more than ever, it didn’t matter—because today was different. Today was his last day in this hellhole.The guard locked the cell behind him. "Follow me," he instructed.Matthew fell in line behind the guard, walking down the dimly lit corridor lined with barred cells. Jeers followed him with every step, but he kept his eyes forward, focused. He’d never cared much for their taunts, ...
Welcome to GoodNovel world of fiction. If you like this novel, or you are an idealist hoping to explore a perfect world, and also want to become an original novel author online to increase income, you can join our family to read or create various types of books, such as romance novel, epic reading, werewolf novel, fantasy novel, history novel and so on. If you are a reader, high quality novels can be selected here. If you are an author, you can obtain more inspiration from others to create more brilliant works, what's more, your works on our platform will catch more attention and win more admiration from readers.
Comments