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 MoreArthur stepped into his studio apartment, kicking off his shoes before throwing himself onto the bed. A wide grin stretched across his face as he stared at the ceiling, his heart still racing with excitement. He had just met Cassidy’s family. They had accepted him.For the first time in a long time, he felt like he belonged somewhere, like he was part of something special. The warmth of their welcome still lingered in his chest, and he let out a small, contented sigh.But then his gaze drifted to the nightstand beside him.His smile faltered.There, in a simple wooden frame, was a picture of Alexandra. His twin sister. The pang of sadness hit him like a cold wave, washing away the warmth of the evening. For a moment, he felt like he had forgotten—forgotten why he had joined the police in the first place, why he had spent years chasing shadows.He reached for the frame, tracing his fingers over the glass as he stared at her familiar face
As Cassidy steered the car through the quiet streets, Arthur sat back in his seat, feeling the soft hum of the road beneath them. After a moment, he couldn’t help but smile.“Your mom really knows her way around a kitchen. I think I ate enough to last me a week.”Cassidy’s eyes flicked briefly to him, and a small, almost imperceptible smirk appeared on his lips. “I noticed. You couldn’t stop picking at everything. But it’s cute how you have no self-control.”Arthur looked over at him, unaware of the possessiveness in Cassidy’s tone. “What? It was all so good! You saw me try to be polite, but that lasagna… man, it’s like she put a spell on it.”Cassidy’s expression shifted slightly, but his voice remained playful. “You were staring at the Cheesy Breadsticks like you were about to take a bite out of my hand. If you wanted it that bad, you could’ve just asked.&rd
"Where's the toilet?" Arthur asked, glancing around.Juliette wiped her hands on a dish towel and pointed down the hall. "This way.""Fine, I'll be right back," Arthur said, heading in the direction she indicated.As the sound of his footsteps faded, Juliette leaned against the counter, lost in thought. The pieces had clicked together too well—too fast. Arthur’s story, the black rose tattoo, the way Cassidy had subtly dodged the topic during lunch. It all pointed to one thing.Then, as if drawn by her thoughts, Cassidy entered the kitchen. He went straight to the counter, filled a glass with water, and took a long sip. But he could feel her eyes on him.Lowering the glass, he met her gaze. "What?"Juliette pushed off the counter and silently walked to the door, closing it behind her. When she turned back, her expression was sharp. "What are you hiding?"Cassidy raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. "What are you talking a
The meal had ended, the table filled with empty plates and half-finished glasses of water. Juliette, always the first to move, stood up and began gathering the dishes.Arthur, wanting to be polite, quickly got up as well. “Let me help,” he said, picking up a plate and following her to the kitchen.They worked together in quiet efficiency, stacking the plates near the sink and wiping down the table. When they finished, Juliette turned toward Cassidy, tilting her head playfully.“Bro, can you come and wash the dishes with me?”Cassidy smiled, about to step forward, when a thought made him pause. His hand instinctively hovered over his wrist—the rose tattoo. The makeup concealing it was waterproof, but he’d been wearing it for hours. Too much water, too much rubbing, and it could start to fade. He couldn’t risk it.Instead, he glanced at Arthur and smirked. “I think it’s better if Arthur helps you&
Then, after crossing the living room, Cassidy and Arthur was on their way to the dining room, where Arthur immediately noticed the table set for five. His gaze flickered to the extra place setting, and he recalled Cassidy mentioning his sister, Juliette.Lorraine smiled warmly and gestured toward a chair. "Have a seat, Arthur."Arthur pulled out the chair and sat, and Cassidy took the seat beside him."Jules!" Lorraine called toward the stairs."Coming," a voice responded from above.Robert settled into his chair with a knowing look. "It’s not every day our son brings someone home."Cassidy smirked, but before he could respond, Lorraine placed a few bowls of food on the table. "So," she asked, glancing at Arthur, "where did you two meet?"Cassidy, without hesitation, answered, "In a café.""Oh?" Lorraine’s brows lifted slightly.Arthur barely held back a smirk, stealing a glance at Cassidy, who was busy pouring himself a
The drive to Cassidy's family home was wrapped in an awkward silence, though the tension wasn’t all from the drive. Arthur, eyes focused on his phone, scrolled through messages and notifications, the weight of Cassidy's presence beside him feeling different now. Cassidy, on the other hand, was barely aware of the road. His mind was occupied with a hundred dark thoughts, each one tightening the knot in his stomach.“So,” Arthur’s voice broke through Cassidy’s thoughts, light and boyish. “I’m really excited to meet your parents.”Cassidy forced a smile, though it was tight, like the edges of his mask were fraying. “Yeah, they’re… good people.” He said it flatly, not truly feeling it. Good people? His mind mocked the words. They didn’t know the man who’d made their son, their precious Cassidy, a dangerous, manipulative monster. They didn’t know about the weight of the secrets he car
Matthew had to admit—he wasn’t expecting this.He stood there, arms crossed, watching in silent, begrudging admiration as Masahiro shrugged off his blazer with practiced ease. The smooth roll of his shoulders, the way the fabric slipped off his frame—yeah, it was unfair. Masahiro moved like someone who had spent years cultivating the perfect balance of strength and grace.Matthew couldn’t tear his eyes away, even though he hated how much he was staring. The precise, deliberate way Masahiro removed his shoes, bending down with the fluidity of someone who knew exactly what he was doing, made Matthew’s chest tighten. And he didn’t know why. He shouldn’t even care.But the way Masahiro stood up, his dress shirt slightly undone and tie loosened, made something inside Matthew stir. He watched, transfixed, as Masahiro moved with an effortless ease that spoke of a lifetime of confidence and control. The soft light from the stree
They stood there, the air between them thick with unspoken things, but neither of them knew what to say.Masahiro was the first to break the silence."Matthew..." His gaze swept over him, head to toe, as if trying to confirm that it was really him standing there.Matthew arched a brow, returning the favor, eyes slowly dragging over Masahiro’s half-loosened tie, open blazer, polished shoes that had no business being in a park."How are you?" Masahiro asked, his voice steady.Matthew folded his arms. "I'm okay. And you?""Me too."There was another pause… awkward, charged, too damn long.Matthew’s gaze flicked around the park before settling back on Masahiro. "So... what the hell are you doing here? You look like a finance bro who got lost on the way to a board meeting."Masahiro sighed, hands on his waist, looking like a man whose patience had already been tested too many times today. "I had Clyde in a
Arthur sat in the dimly lit database room, the glow of the monitor casting sharp shadows on his face. His fingers hovered over the keyboard before he finally typed it in—Alan Blackwood.The system processed the request, the screen flickering for a moment before a list of results appeared. Arthur’s chest tightened.Ten.There were ten Alan Blackwoods in Middlesbrough.He exhaled slowly, his jaw clenching. Of course, it wasn’t going to be that easy. He had a name, but no face. No way of knowing which one of these men was the one with the black tattoo.But that wouldn’t stop him.Arthur methodically sorted through the files, filtering out the ones that didn’t fit. Too young. Too old. One was dead. Another had moved out of the country years ago. That still left a few. He studied their addresses, occupations, any criminal records attached to them. Nothing stood out—yet.He printed out the files, the quiet whir of the machine the only sound in the room. When the last sheet slid out, Arthur
"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, ...
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