"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
The only sound was the low hum of the car's engine, Masahiro clenching the steering wheel with unrelenting muscles as his mind whirled over all that happened tonight. He could feel tension simmered in his muscles, the adrenaline still high from the unexpected kiss from Matthew. Matthew, on the other hand, looked like he didn't give a damn about anything, sprawled casually in the passenger seat, eyes flicking lazily to the streetlights outside.Masahiro was still trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened. His mind was still running in circles between the mission and how Matthew had acted. It wasn't just a kiss, and Matthew's Masahiro needed to focus. They couldn't get distracted that time. He needed confirmation from David first before they could do anything else.He drew his cell phone out and dialed David's number, his fingers hovering for just a moment as he glanced at the road. The phone rang twice before David's voice came through, cool and to the point."Masahir
The cold, clinical air of the police station hit Masahiro like a slap in the face as he and Matthew stepped inside. The clacking of heels on the tiled floor and the hum of distant chatter surrounded them as they made their way toward the briefing room. Masahiro, his usual sharp suit pressed to perfection, led the way with his typical no-nonsense stride. Dressed in his attire that was a bit less formal, Matthew followed behind him casually. His demeanor was cool, yet his eyes moved around, showing the beginnings of unease. The two went in at exactly 9 AM. David sat at the head of the table, exuding more authority with his sharp gaze. Officer Reed was seated beside him, flipping through some files, while David's secretary stood by the projector, ready for any assistance."Morning," David said shortly, nodding at them to take a seat.Masahiro sat down, sitting as straight as possible. Matthew collapsed into the chair next to him and looked completely too comfortable for t
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
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