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Chapter 23
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2024-12-07 10:30:18Masahiro turned his desktop on, the monitor flickered, sending a soft glow around the place. Booming on, Masahiro leaned over and started to go through the stack of papers.
Reed's notes were complete: the profile of Damon Callahan, bank transactions, possible crypto angle, all there, methodically laid out. Masahiro's eyes settled on repeated cash withdrawals, irregular amounts, lack of corresponding expenditures. It screamed secrecy, yet the missing pieces gnawed at him.
He cast the papers aside and logged in. The screen popped open almost in an instant, and his fingers flew to type the name "Ridley" on the internal police database.
The results populated fast, but as Masahiro tried to click into the file, a bright red banner flashed across the top: CONFIDENTIAL. ACCESS RESTRICTED. HUMAN TRAFFICKING DEPARTMENT.
Masahiro's brows knitted. "Great," he muttered, leaning back in his chair, and running a hand through his hair. His fingers pressed against his tem
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Masahiro was sitting at his desk, a sea of papers and case files surrounding him.The door creaked open, and a woman stepped inside.“Excuse me,” she said.Masahiro who was lost reading a file, looked up, seeing the woman getting close.There was something commanding about her presence-the long auburn hair cascading over her shoulders in soft waves, the green eyes alight with intelligence and determination framed by delicate lashes. She was clad in a fitted navy-blue blazer over crisp white blouse and dark trousers that outlined her slender figure. Subdued makeup highlighted her sharp features."You must be Ms. Hawthorne," Masahiro said in surprise. "I didn't expect you so soon."She nodded, "Yes, I was informed you needed assistance with the Ridley case," she replied, her British accent clear and confident. "I'm here to help."Masahiro nodded, intrigued by her swift arrival. "Let's get to it, then. The sooner we fin
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The car rumbled along the deserted road, heavy hum of the engine filling the silence. The driver, an older officer with gray hair and a calm demeanor, kept his focus on the road ahead. Masahiro sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, eyes scanning the dark horizon with quiet intensity.Ms. Hawthorne sat in the back, her laptop balanced on her knees, scrolling through notes on Ridley's file, while Matthew sat beside her, fidgeting with the cuffs of his jacket. The silence between them was thick, with the only breaks the occasional tapping of Ms. Hawthorne's keys and the soft hiss of tires against asphalt."How much longer?" Matthew finally asked, his voice strained."Not far now," replied the driver, his tone professional, yet indifferent.Masahiro glanced back over his shoulder. "You okay back there?"Matthew gave a wry smile, but his eyes betrayed how nervous he was. "Define 'okay.'"Ms. Hawthorne lifted her gaze from her opened laptop, he
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The police briefing room was dimly lit, thick with tension as Masahiro, Matthew, Ms. Hawthorne, Evelyn Carter-head of Human Trafficking Unit, and officer Reed, all sat around a big table. Laid in the middle was the picture of Ridley's back. Under the fluorescent lights, the tattoo shone-an inked jumble of lines, symbols, and jagged shapes that seemed impossible to decipher.Masahiro leaned forward, his finger tracing the contours of the image. "We have to figure this out; if Ridley's back is a message, it's the key to finding the Spiced Cherry or the people behind it.”Evelyn peered closely at the photograph; her brows furrowed in concentration. "Would this really lead us to the Spiced Cherry? This doesn't even look like a map," she questioned, doubt beginning to seep into her tone.Ms. Hawthorne, arms crossed, leaned closer. "Boss, I think you might be right. It's too messy. Why would his friend etch something so crucial on his back? It doesn't make sense.”Matthew had been leaning si
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Ethan knocked lightly before entering Masahiro's office, a stack of printed documents in his hands. A serious expression clouded his face, with a flicker of excitement in his eyes."Got something for you, Payne," he said, taking a seat as he set the papers down on the desk. "The dark web's abuzz about something they're calling the 'Full Moon Parties'."Masahiro leaned forward, intrigued. "Guess that's the thing we are looking for. What's the deal?”Ethan rummaged through the papers, pulling out a detailed description. "It's an invitation-only event. They are selling it as a night of 'unforgettable encounters and unrestrained pleasures under the full moon's glow.'""What kind of activities are we talking about?"“Each full moon has a different theme… masquerades, provocative gatherings, even mentions of dark rituals," Ethan said, furrowing his brow. "It's deliberately vague, which makes it even more sinister. They're drawing peopl
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Days laterMasahiro was lounging at home, flipping through a book, when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen-it was Ethan. With a sigh, he answered."Hey, what's up?" Masahiro tried to sound relaxed."Payne, I need you at the station. It's about the dark web profile for the Spiced Cherry."Masahiro's curiosity piqued. "What's going on?”"I need you to bring Matthew. I can't go into all the details by phone, it’s for the couple's profile we got some questions that need to be answered."Masahiro frowned. "It's my day off, Ethan.""I know… and hey… don’t forget you are the one who asked for this.""Fine. I'll get Matthew."He hung up and headed into the living room, where he found Matthew sprawled across the couch, flipping on his phone. "Get up," Masahiro said, sharper than he had meant to.Matthew looked up, startled. "What's the hurry?""We have t
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Ethan sat in his office, the soft hum of the computer filling the otherwise quiet space. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but the data on the screen didn't seem to hold his attention. The phone against his ear, however, had his full focus."So, what's the deal?" Ethan asked, his voice casual but laced with a hint of concern as he leaned back in his chair.Noah's voice came through the speaker with its usual easy-going tone. "I'm just saying, uncle Nick's been asking about you. He misses us, man. Been a while since you've come around. You don't think he's getting a little… lonely?”Ethan shifted in his chair, looking over at the dark web program open on the second computer, the faint glow reflecting off his face. "I know, I know," he said, rubbing a hand across his face. "It's just been hectic, you know? The case has been dragging me in deeper than I thought.”Noah chuckled quietly. "Yeah, yeah, I get it; you're always busy. But un
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Masahiro was sitting at the table in the kitchen, casually eating his lunch. The quiet room caught soft clinking sounds that the chopsticks made upon being tapped against the bowl. Besides him lay a bowl full of steaming hot miso soup, and in front was a plate of neat and thin noodles filled tenderly with slight spicy pork. He sipped his soup slowly, feeling the warmth spread through him, one of those few moments of peace before the storm that was his life.Matthew, on the other hand, stood by the counter, leaning lazily against the edge with one hand wrapped around a cup of coffee. His other hand absently stroked the fur of Clyde wheo was perched on the counter, lazily eyeing Masahiro as he ate. The cat's purring was the only other sound, a soothing background to the otherwise tense silence that seemed to hang between the two men.Masahiro chewed a mouthful of noodles, his mind wandering, until the shrill buzz of his phone yanked him from those thoughts. He wiped his mouth with a napk
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The masked man leaned back in his chair, his gloved fingers steepling as he spoke. “So, gentlemen, are you going to demonstrate or not?”Masahiro's instinct was to retreat, but Matthew, ever the one to take the reins in situations like this, smiled warmly, leaning slightly toward the camera. "Look," he said, feigning nonchalance. “My boyfriend here isn’t even hard, and we ain’t too interested in exhibitionism…”The masked man tilted his head, almost playfully. "If you can't do this in front of me, how do you expect to handle what happens at the Full Moon Party? Do you understand the kind of scrutiny you’ll be under? This is child’s play compared to what’s coming.”Matthew leaned back, his demeanor shifting ever so slightly. He turned to Masahiro, his voice dropping into a softer, almost intimate tone. “Honey… are there any condoms left?”Masahiro shot him a sharp look, his eyebrow arching in confusion. He opened his mouth to protest, but the faint glimmer in Matthew’s blue eyes stoppe
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Masahiro stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his collar with his left hand. The fitted white shirt he wore accentuated his athletic build, hugging his body in just the right way. His trousers, cut with precision, fell perfectly over his polished shoes. The black fabric contrasted sharply with the cast on his right arm, but there was nothing he could do about that. He’d learned to live with the cast, much like he’d learned to live with the tension in his life.Tonight, though, he wanted to forget. The weight of Matthew’s presence in the apartment, the constant push and pull between them… it was suffocating. He needed a break, just a few hours away to clear his head. He slung his jacket over his left shoulder, his mind already drifting to the loud, pulsating escape the club would offer.As he stepped out of his room, he found Matthew sitting on the couch, casually flipping through some papers. Masahiro paused, half expecting a comment. He could feel Matthew’s eyes on
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The 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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
