Yumi answered on the second ring, her voice calm and professional even at such a late hour.
“Yumi, it’s Matthew. Masahiro—he’s been shot. Abdomen. I don’t think I should take him to a regular hospital. It’s… complicated.”
Yumi’s voice tightened, concern seeping through her composed tone. “Bring him to St. Haven’s Medical. It’s a private facility… we cater to cases where discretion is key. Nobody will ask questions. I’ll meet you at the emergency entrance. Drive safely and keep pressure on the wound.”
Matthew didn’t waste a second. He carefully lifted Masahiro into his car, securing him in the backseat with the towel still pressed to his abdomen. Masahiro’s breathing was shallow, but he was alive, and that was all that mattered.
St. Haven’s Medical, located on the outskirts of Middlesbrough, was an unassuming building—a nondescript facade tha
Two days later, the news channels were buzzing with an unexpected shift in the narrative. Masahiro Payne, once accused of murdering his partner Lewis Howard, was now being hailed as a hero. The media spun a new story, painting him as a man who had been working undercover to expose a massive network of corruption and organized crime, with Lewis Howard as his loyal partner who had died in the line of duty. They claimed that Masahiro had been framed by the very people he had been trying to take down… Mr. K and his criminal empire.Reports claimed Masahiro had barely escaped an assassination attempt orchestrated by his enemies, and that he had been on the verge of uncovering explosive information before being betrayed. The narrative was being cleaned up, and the man who was once accused of being a murderer was now a martyr.Yumi stood at Masahiro’s bedside, her hands checking the monitors as she carefully adjusted the IV drip. The lights in the hospital room w
The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of machines and the occasional soft rustle of fabric. Masahiro's eyes fluttered open, the dim light filtering through the half-closed blinds pricking at his senses. His body felt heavy, a dull ache radiating from his side. It took him a moment to register the familiar figure by the window… Yumi, her slender frame silhouetted against the soft morning light, holding a steaming cup of tea.Her movements were unhurried, calm, as if she had all the time in the world. She didn’t notice him at first, her focus elsewhere. Then, as if sensing a shift in the air, she turned. Their eyes met, and a faint smile flickered across her face as she approached, setting the mug gently on the bedside table.“You’re awake,” she said softly, her voice tinged with relief. She reached for his wrist, checking his pulse as her eyes scanned the monitors beside him.Masahiro’s throat felt dry as sand
Masahiro moved toward them, his heart thudding against his ribs. As he reached the table, his voice came out strained, fighting against the panic rising in his throat. “Matthew,” he said, his tone sharp, demanding answers. “What the hell are you doing here? With him?”Matthew didn’t flinch. His eyes didn’t even widen in surprise. He just stared up at Masahiro with a coldness that felt like a slap in the face. No guilt. No warmth. Only an empty detachment that cut through him.Cassidy smirked, leaning back in the booth like he’d been waiting for this moment. “Well, well, look who’s come to join the party,” he drawled, his voice laced with mock amusement. “I didn’t think you’d be this predictable, detective.”Masahiro’s gaze stayed fixed on Matthew, searching for any sign of recognition, any trace of the man he once thought he knew. “Matthew,” his voice was tight,
The morning light filtered through the blinds of Masahiro's apartment. The faint sounds of the city waking up were drowned out by the overwhelming weight of his thoughts. The gunshot, the betrayal, the loss… everything still felt surreal. Ten days had passed since the ambush, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with the aftermath. His body had healed, but his mind… his heart? That was another story.He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor, his hands loosely clasped together. The scars on his body were physical reminders of what had happened, but the ache inside ran deeper. He let out a slow breath, forcing himself to push the memories aside. Rising from the bed, he moved to the dresser, pulling out a crisp shirt.He slipped it on, smoothing the fabric as he turned to the mirror. The man staring back at him felt like a stranger… someone who had been through too much, someone with too many unanswered questions. Straightening his tie with
Ten months laterThe rain tapped softly against the windowpane as Masahiro sat at his desk, fingers absently tapping on the keyboard of his PC. His office was meticulously organized, a testament to his efficient yet unyielding nature. Papers were stacked neatly, and his badge rested atop the desktop… a silent reminder of the responsibilities that came with his position as the head of the Narcotics Trafficking Department.It had been ten months since Matthew had walked out of his life, and nine months since Masahiro had taken up this new role in a different station. The distance between the past and present was palpable, yet the void left behind lingered, refusing to be ignored. His eyes stared blankly at the screen, the words before him blurred by a mind that wandered too often.The buzz of his mobile phone broke his trance. Masahiro glanced at the screen and saw the familiar name, Yumi. He picked up with a soft sigh, his tone warming.“Yumi,
The soft hum of the office faded as the clock ticked toward the end of the day. Masahiro stood up from behind his desk, gathering his things in quiet precision, as always. The light outside had already begun to wane, casting a golden glow over the room. As he passed by the corner desk, his eyes flickered briefly toward Arthur, who was still focused on the stack of files in front of him. The young intern hadn’t left the office yet."Cooper, I’m leaving," Masahiro said, his voice smooth, though there was an undercurrent of weariness to it.Arthur looked up from his desk, the glow of his computer screen reflecting in his tired eyes. "Goodbye, sir," he replied, offering a polite nod.Masahiro gave a short nod of his own and walked out, the door clicking softly behind him.Arthur sighed, dropping his shoulders. The room felt oddly empty now, the hum of the fluorescent lights and the ticking of the clock the only sounds. He g
Matthew was standing by the window in Cassidy’s apartment, staring out at the city lights with a heavy heart, lost in thought. His fingers gripped the cold glass, the coolness matching the emptiness inside of him.“Hey,” a voice broke through his reverie, cutting into the quiet. Cassidy. His steps were smooth and confident, the air around him buzzing with his presence. “You’ve been zoned out for ages, you know that?”Matthew didn't turn to face him, his jaw tight. He forced a neutral expression onto his face, masking the turmoil that churned inside. "Just thinking," he muttered, his gaze fixed on the distant lights.Cassidy’s tone shifted, becoming more pressing. "About what? It's been weeks. What's going on with you? You’ve been avoiding me."Matthew didn’t respond. The truth was, he was avoiding everything… his emotions, his thoughts, his memories. Especially Cassidy.Cassidy stepped cl
The pulsing bass of the nightclub reverberated through Masahiro’s chest as he pushed through the crowded entrance of El Paradiso. The lights flashed in chaotic bursts of color, illuminating faces twisted in joy and desperation. For a moment, the energy of the crowd enveloped him, but as he stepped further inside, it became clear that this was not where he belonged.He wasn’t here for the drinks or the music; he was here to escape. But escaping from what? The ache of Matthew’s absence? The unrelenting pursuit of justice that had consumed him? Or perhaps the shadows of betrayal that lingered in his mind like a haunting melody?Masahiro leaned against the bar, nursing a drink that had long since gone warm. He scanned the room, searching for something… or someone… to pull him from the depths of his thoughts. But as he watched people laugh and dance, he felt more alone than ever. Matthew was everywhere and nowhere… the memories wrapped
Arthur sat at his desk; his brow furrowed as he scribbled notes onto his notepad. Despite the calm atmosphere in the office, his thoughts were anything but. Every noise around him felt amplified… the faint hum of the overhead lights, the shuffle of papers, the clicking of Masahiro’s pen as he worked at his desk. Arthur stole a glance at his boss, Masahiro, who looked as composed and sharp as ever, completely immersed in his work.The sound of a knock at the door broke the rhythm.Masahiro, without looking up, called out, “Come in.”The door creaked open, and Masahiro’s secretary stepped inside. Her heels clicked softly against the tiled floor as she approached his desk.“Good morning, sir,” she said politely, holding out an envelope. “This just arrived from the Newcastle Police Station.”Masahiro looked up and took the envelope from her with a nod. “Oh, it ca
Matthew lay sprawled on the couch, half-watching the TV. The flickering light danced over his face, but his mind was elsewhere. The sound of the door opening caught his attention, and he turned to see Cassidy entering, shrugging off his coat with a calculated ease.Cassidy’s dark gaze fell on Matthew, lingering as if he was trying to read his every thought.“Matthew, I’ll be leaving for NewCastle Upon Tyne soon.”Matthew didn’t bother masking his sarcasm. “What’s the occasion? Vacation? Assassination?”Cassidy smirked, ignoring the barb. “Business. A capo meeting. Annual reports, territory matters, last year’s successes, next year’s plans. You know, the usual.”Matthew snorted. “How riveting. Must be nice to have a full calendar of crimes to discuss.”Cassidy’s smirk widened, and he walked toward the washroom without
Matthew stirred, his face buried deep into the pillow, half-dreaming, half-drifting in that pleasant haze of sleep. Then came the incessant buzzing of a cellphone, shattering his peace. His eyelids twitched as he groaned softly, reluctant to wake. He opened one eye, squinting at the empty side of the bed. The faint sound of running water came from the bathroom. Of course, Cassidy was already up. His phone, however, was still ringing, loud and demanding attention. "Cassidy!” Matthew called out, his voice rough from sleep. The water stopped abruptly. A silence lingered before Cassidy’s deep, dangerous voice carried back. “Yeah?” “Your phone is ringing!” There was a pause, then the same commanding tone. “Pick it up!" Matthew frowned, stretching an arm toward the device. As he held it up, he muttered, “New phone,” before answering. “Yeah?” Nothing but silence on the other end. “Hello?”Again, there was nothin
Arthur woke up slowly, the morning light seeping through the gaps in the blinds. His head felt heavy, and his body ached faintly from the night before. Blinking, he turned his head to the other side of the bed, expecting to see Cassidy still there. The space was empty. He frowned, propping himself up on an elbow.“Maybe he’s in the bathroom,” Arthur muttered, his voice rough with sleep.Pushing himself upright, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched. The room was quiet, too quiet. Something felt off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He rubbed his face and got to his feet, his gaze landing on his trousers crumpled on the floor. His phone. He needed to check the time.Arthur crouched down, fishing through his trousers. His hand moved through the pockets, coming up empty.His brow furrowed. “Where the hell…”He stood up, scanning the floor around him. Maybe it had fallen out? He crouche
Arthur took a moment to scan Cassidy up and down, the powerful presence of the man impossible to ignore. Cassidy’s demeanor was all control… his intense eyes, his smirk, the confidence in his movements. Arthur could feel the tension building between them, like an electric current in the air.“It’s your first time here?” Cassidy asked, his voice smooth, probing. “Never saw you here before.”Arthur chuckled, his gaze flicking over Cassidy before meeting his eyes. “What? You live here?”Cassidy leaned in slightly, a glimmer of amusement in his expression. “I’m in the management team.”Arthur raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Interesting. But answering your question... no, I don’t come often.”Cassidy tilted his head, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “So, what made you come here today?” His hand reached out, gently grazing Arthur’s jaw. The
Cassidy leaned back in a plush booth of El Paradiso, the low hum of conversation and the clink of glasses blending into a comforting background. But tonight, the sounds were distant… his mind was elsewhere. Frustration gnawed at him. He’d placed two calls to Matthew, but not once had the phone picked up. It was starting to eat at him.His fingers twitched as he reached for his glass, taking a sip of the amber liquid that burned down his throat. It didn’t help. Nothing helped. He was supposed to be out here, in control, but tonight? Tonight, he was feeling like the man he'd tried so hard not to become… vulnerable.“Another one,” he muttered to the barman, his voice low, strained. The bartender didn’t ask questions, just nodded, sliding another glass across the polished wood.Cassidy pulled out his phone, his thumb flying over the screen as he typed a message to Matthew. `I wanna see you back until tomorrow morning, othe
Arthur walked into El Paradiso, the lively hum of the nightclub filling his ears as he stepped through the door. The dim, neon-lit ambiance of the place instantly hit him, and he felt a wave of nostalgia rush over him. His attire for the night… a crisp blazer, a simple but stylish T-shirt beneath, and well-fitted trousers… was on point, just the right balance between casual and sharp. He scanned the crowded space, the vibrant beats of music reverberating around him.At one of the couches by the bar, he spotted Charles and Peter. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he noticed their affectionate position… Peter sitting comfortably on Charles’ lap, both engrossed in each other. It was a bit daring for a public spot, but that was just how they were… bold, carefree, and very much in love. Arthur made his way toward them, feeling a lightness he hadn’t experienced in a while.When he reached their table, he cleared his t
Matthew's breath hitched as he watched Masahiro's eyes darken with desire. Masahiro leaned down, capturing Matthew's lips in a tender kiss, before trailing kisses down his neck, leaving a trail of wetness.With a slow, deliberate push, he entered Matthew again, eliciting a soft moan. He paused, giving Matthew a moment to adjust, before pulling out and thrusting back in, setting a slow, sensual rhythm.Matthew's hands roamed over Masahiro's back, tracing the contours of his muscles. He arched his back, pushing himself onto Masahiro's length, seeking more friction. "Yes, Masahiro… just like that," he whispered, his voice hoarse.Masahiro complied, his thrusts becoming more intense. He lifted Matthew's legs onto his shoulders, opening him up further, allowing for deeper penetration. Matthew's eyes fluttered shut as he surrendered to the pleasure, his body moving in sync with Masahiro's.Then, the piercing sound of a ringtone shattered the illusion.Ma
The warm spray of the shower cascaded over Matthew’s skin, the steady rhythm of the water offering a brief respite from the chaos in his mind. He leaned his forehead against the cool tiles, letting the stream wash away the grime of the day. Thoughts of Masahiro consumed him… their brief time together, the way Masahiro’s touch had felt like a lifeline, and how those days had been the closest thing to a dream he’d ever known.But dreams didn’t last, did they?The faint sound of footsteps reached his ears, and Matthew froze. His body tensed as his mind raced. Was it Cassidy? Had he followed him here? The thought sent a chill down his spine, but he shook it off, focusing on the present. Whatever. It was just Cassidy; he’d deal with it. He turned his attention back to the shower, keeping his ears tuned to the approaching presence.The footsteps stopped just outside the glass stall.Matthew’s instinct