The atmosphere in Masahiro’s office was thick with tension.
Clark stepped in first, his suit crisp, posture composed, despite the hangover weighing on him. Adam followed, silent, imposing, watching.
Masahiro looked up from his desk. "Clark."
Clark nodded. "Masahiro."
Arthur was already there, sitting stiffly, his hands gripping the edge of his chair like he’d been waiting for this moment.
Masahiro turned slightly. "Cooper, the file."
Arthur was fast—too fast. He grabbed it like it was life or death, shoving it toward Clark before Clark even sat down.
Clark narrowed his eyes. Noted that.
He flipped the file open, eyes scanning the legal jargon, the cold, hard details of Cassidy’s case.
A slow exhale.
"Alright. Let’s tear this apart."
Masahiro leaned back slightly. "What’s going to be the prosecution’s
The drive back to the police station was tense. Arthur sat in the backseat, rigid, arms crossed, eyes locked on the window like it held all the answers he didn't have. Clark, on the other hand, had his usual ice-cold detachment in place. Legs crossed, elbow resting on the door, flipping through emails on his phone like he wasn’t sitting next to a literal criminal acting as his bodyguard. Adam? Adam was watching them both, the way Arthur’s knee bounced, the way Clark’s fingers were tight around his phone despite the bored expression. He smirked. "Damn. This car ride’s fuckin’ depressing." Arthur didn’t respond. Clark didn’t even look up. "Then drive faster, MacDougall." Adam let out a low chuckle but did exactly that. When they pulled up in front of the station, Arthur finally moved. He unclipped his seatbelt, hesitated, then muttered, "Thanks." Clark barely glanced at him. "Try not to look like you’re mourning your own goddamn funeral in there." Arthur gritted his teeth but
Clark barely spared a glance at Adam as he grabbed his keys off the table, his movements brisk, sharp with unspoken intent. His fingers curled around the cool metal, the faint clink echoing through the quiet apartment. Adam, stretched out on the couch, remote in one hand and a beer in the other, didn’t even bother turning his head. "Where are you going?" Clark exhaled. Didn’t slow. Didn’t stop, "Outside," That was all he said before crossing the room and reaching for the door. Adam let out a slow sigh, taking his time to put down the remote. Then stood. Clark heard the shift of weight behind him. He didn’t have to turn around to know what was coming next. "Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he pulled the door open. "Do you have to follow me everywhere?" Adam, now standing a few feet behind him, met his irritation with the same lazy indifference. "Yeah," he replied, completely unfazed. "That’s kinda the job." Clark clenched his jaw, his fingers
"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,
As Matthew walked towards the prison’s main gate, he spotted a guard standing watch, barely five meters ahead. He glanced up at the sky, feeling the fresh air from the nearby trees brush his face, a small but tangible taste of freedom. The sense of liberation began to settle in—a freedom from the damp, oppressive cells, the stale odor of confinement, and the abuse, both from the guards and fellow inmates. He was finally breaking away from the system that had held him captive for so long.Reaching the gate, he watched as it swung open. With deliberate steps, Matthew crossed over the threshold and immediately noticed a sleek black car with tinted windows parked just outside. The license plate confirmed his suspicion—it was a government vehicle. As he approached, the window lowered, revealing a striking woman with dark, curly hair and sunglasses perched on her nose."Matthew!" she called out, pulling off her shades with a smile."Miss Melissa," he responded, trying his best to sound cordi
Masahiro stood frozen, staring at David. "You…," he began, but paused to collect himself. "Boss, you’re joking, right?" He stepped closer to the table, clearly shocked by what he had just heard.David clasped his hands on the table, shaking his head slightly. "Why would I joke about something like this?"Masahiro ran his hand over his head, visibly trying to calm his growing frustration."Do you two know each other or something?" David asked, looking between Masahiro and Matthew.Masahiro placed his hands on waist and shot David a look that said it all.“Oh..." David finally caught on to the tension. "Can I ask you both to leave for a moment?" he said, directing his words to Melissa and Matthew."Of course," Melissa said, gathering her belongings. "Come on, Matthew."Without a word, Matthew stood and followed her, his eyes briefly meeting Masahiro's in a tense, sidelong stare as they passed him. It was clear there was bad blood between them."We'll be right outside," Melissa gestured t
Masahiro cut the ignition, and the soft hum of the engine died."Get out!" Masahiro said sharply, already releasing his seatbelt to exit the car.Matthew followed wordlessly, his gaze flicking around as they made their way to the entrance of the building in front of them, a modern one ensconced in a quieter neighbourhood.As they entered, Matthew could not help but notice the interior: an immaculate lobby, with minimalistic decoration, and inlaid marble floors gleaming softly under reflected lights.They walked to the elevator and got inside; Masahiro clicked the fifth floor.Masahiro's arms were crossed, barely looking at Mattew, so the same for this one.Finally, the doors opened on the fifth floor; Masahiro headed down the hall, toward a door with a sleek black plaque wrote: ´501´.He unlocked it and went inside without waiting for Matthew to catch up.Matthew held back at the threshold, catching his breath as he took in Masahiro's apartment.It was neat, almost obsessively so; a pl
Masahiro´s hands gripped the steering wheel, while his eyes stayed on the road. Matthew sat beside him in the passenger seat-the air between them thick with unsaid words. The momentary silence in the car felt like the tip of a storm below the surface.Matthew saw Da Vinci's nightclub from the corner of his eye, a neon glow soft against the night.A flicker of relief washed over him. ´At least inside, I can get some distance from this cop. Just for a while, ´ he thought.Masahiro slowed the car, easing onto a secluded spot where he could keep a clear view of the entrance without drawing unnecessary attention to himself. He killed the engine; the soft hum of the car´s power died down. With a quiet sigh, he released his buckle."I’ll stay here, to do the surveillance," he said, his voice cold.Matthew did not say anything, just stepped out of the car and went towards the entrance of the club.Upon Matthew stepped inside, the pulsing beats of Da Vinci’s Nightclub enveloped him. The air wa
As Matthew and Masahiro enganged in a very and long kiss, the two low-level thugs stumbled in; their grins of carefree abandon quickly changed to bewilderment at the sight of an intimate scene unfolding before their very eyes.One of them, his voice ringing with a touch of brash confidence, suddenly exclaimed, "Get a room, you two!"The other, more subdued in temperament, shrugged and nonchalantly went back to pressing business."Right, like this is a place for romantic encounters," he muttered, adding a hearty chuckle to his words as he stepped forward to the sinks.Matthew didn't budge, he kept kissing Masahiro, hitching him a little bit closer still.Masahiro had felt Matthew's body heat against his and was torn between fascination and horror. The kiss had stayed as they struggled for balance, while the unique scent of Matthew was an intoxicating blend of danger and allure, demanding attention. Just as he leaned deeper into the kiss, the f
Clark barely spared a glance at Adam as he grabbed his keys off the table, his movements brisk, sharp with unspoken intent. His fingers curled around the cool metal, the faint clink echoing through the quiet apartment. Adam, stretched out on the couch, remote in one hand and a beer in the other, didn’t even bother turning his head. "Where are you going?" Clark exhaled. Didn’t slow. Didn’t stop, "Outside," That was all he said before crossing the room and reaching for the door. Adam let out a slow sigh, taking his time to put down the remote. Then stood. Clark heard the shift of weight behind him. He didn’t have to turn around to know what was coming next. "Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he pulled the door open. "Do you have to follow me everywhere?" Adam, now standing a few feet behind him, met his irritation with the same lazy indifference. "Yeah," he replied, completely unfazed. "That’s kinda the job." Clark clenched his jaw, his fingers
The drive back to the police station was tense. Arthur sat in the backseat, rigid, arms crossed, eyes locked on the window like it held all the answers he didn't have. Clark, on the other hand, had his usual ice-cold detachment in place. Legs crossed, elbow resting on the door, flipping through emails on his phone like he wasn’t sitting next to a literal criminal acting as his bodyguard. Adam? Adam was watching them both, the way Arthur’s knee bounced, the way Clark’s fingers were tight around his phone despite the bored expression. He smirked. "Damn. This car ride’s fuckin’ depressing." Arthur didn’t respond. Clark didn’t even look up. "Then drive faster, MacDougall." Adam let out a low chuckle but did exactly that. When they pulled up in front of the station, Arthur finally moved. He unclipped his seatbelt, hesitated, then muttered, "Thanks." Clark barely glanced at him. "Try not to look like you’re mourning your own goddamn funeral in there." Arthur gritted his teeth but
The atmosphere in Masahiro’s office was thick with tension.Clark stepped in first, his suit crisp, posture composed, despite the hangover weighing on him. Adam followed, silent, imposing, watching.Masahiro looked up from his desk. "Clark."Clark nodded. "Masahiro."Arthur was already there, sitting stiffly, his hands gripping the edge of his chair like he’d been waiting for this moment.Masahiro turned slightly. "Cooper, the file."Arthur was fast—too fast. He grabbed it like it was life or death, shoving it toward Clark before Clark even sat down.Clark narrowed his eyes. Noted that.He flipped the file open, eyes scanning the legal jargon, the cold, hard details of Cassidy’s case.A slow exhale."Alright. Let’s tear this apart."Masahiro leaned back slightly. "What’s going to be the prosecution’s
Clark was dead asleep when his phone started vibrating aggressively against the nightstand.A groan. A slow inhale. A delayed reaction before his hand finally reached out, fumbling blindly until his fingers closed around the device.He cracked one eye open. Too bright. Too soon.The caller ID: Masahiro.Clark exhaled through his nose, pressing the phone to his ear as he collapsed back onto the mattress."Payne," he muttered, voice rough, thick with exhaustion."Clark," Masahiro’s voice was as crisp as ever. No trace of sleep, no pleasantries. "Cassidy was moved to the detention facility this morning."Clark barely processed the words before rubbing a hand down his face."Great," he muttered, blinking up at the ceiling. "I was planning on heading to the station today. Need to go over a few things with you and Arthur.""Fine," Masahiro said, as if he
Clark barely paused at his apartment door. The stranger was behind him, lips pressing against his neck, fingers curling against his waist as Clark fumbled for the key. "Easy," Clark murmured, though his voice didn’t sound like he wanted easy at all. The stranger chuckled against his skin, his hands slipping lower. "Can’t help myself." The key turned in the lock. The door swung open. Clark stepped inside first, not looking back as he grabbed the man by his tie and pulled him in. The moment Clark stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind them, the stranger’s hands were already on him. Clark barely made it two steps before his back hit the wall. A thud. The stranger’s hands slid down his sides, lips tracing his jaw, his neck. Clark let out a breathless chuckle, grabbing the man’s tie, tugging him forward. "Come on," he murmured, voice smooth, too smooth. "Bedroom."
Clark didn’t say a word when he stepped out of the apartment.Adam followed, as he always did.Clark didn’t tell him where they were going.Adam didn’t ask. Didn’t need to.Because when Clark finally stopped walking, they were outside a bar.Adam exhaled, shaking his head slightly."Really."Clark didn’t acknowledge him. Didn’t even pause.Just pushed open the door and stepped inside.Adam followed. Because that was his job.The bar was dim, filled with the familiar smell of cheap liquor, sweat, and regret. The kind of place where people came to forget.Clark walked straight to the counter.He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t glance at Adam before speaking."Whiskey. Double."Adam leaned against the bar, arms crossed, watching as the very well-known, very respected lawyer tilted back the first drink in one go.The bartender barely had time to set the glass down before Clark tapped it, signaling for another.Adam arched a brow."That bad, huh?"Clark didn’t look at him.Just took the second gla
Adam had been in a lot of uncomfortable situations.Fights. Shootouts. Business deals where one wrong move meant someone wasn’t making it out alive.But this?This was something else."You’re his new boyfriend, aren’t you?"The words hung in the air, thick and wrong, like an error in reality itself.Adam stared.Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t move.The woman, on the other hand, looked perfectly at ease.Like she’d just commented on the weather.Like she hadn’t just said the most incorrect thing in existence.Adam finally forced out a flat, deadpan response."No."She blinked.Then, with zero hesitation— "You sure?"Adam’s brain short-circuited.His jaw tightened. His fingers flexed."What."She tilted her head, studying him.Not skeptical. Not exactly suspicious.More like she was trying to figure something out.Her gaze flicked over him, slow and deliberate.And then—her eyes lit up."
The drive stretched out between them, long and unbearably quiet. Clark sat in the passenger seat, his posture flawless, gaze distant, lost somewhere past the city lights. His fingers tapped against his knee, slow and deliberate—not nervous, not restless, just… occupying himself. Adam, one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily against the gear shift, kept his eyes on the road, jaw tight. He wasn’t much for talking. Especially not with Clark. But the silence was starting to annoy him. Clark shifted slightly, exhaling through his nose before finally speaking. "You drive like a criminal." Adam smirked. Didn’t take his eyes off the road. "I am a criminal." Clark hummed, unimpressed. "And yet, somehow, I feel like I’m the one committing a crime by being in this car." Adam scoffed, his smirk growing. "You are. Just a different kind." Clark shot him a dry glance. "Yes, defending a man in court is exactly the same as whatever illegal nonsense you've done." Adam chuckled, rolli
The knock on Masahiro’s office door was sharp, impatient.Masahiro barely looked up from his paperwork. “Come in.”The door swung open, and Clark walked in with his usual air of barely restrained irritation. Adam followed, stepping in behind him—bigger, heavier, carrying the kind of presence that filled the room before he even said a word.Arthur looked up from his desk. His brows furrowed—not at Clark, but at the man behind him.`Who the hell is that? ´Masahiro set his pen down and leaned back in his chair, finally glancing up. “Clark.”Clark’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Masahiro.”Masahiro’s eyes flicked to Adam. Didn’t know him. But it didn’t take much to put the pieces together. Matthew had arranged for Clark to have a bodyguard. And judging by the way this guy stood like he’d break a man’s spine for fun, this had to be him.Adam met Masahiro’s stare, just as assessing. Neither of them spoke. Sizing each other up.Clark exhaled sharply, clearly over it before it even began.