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Chapter 70
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2024-12-29 18:00:13Masahiro stepped out of the police station, his mind racing with the implications of what he had just learned. Nicholas Murray was the first person he needed to see… an assistant in the kitchen on the night of Rocco’s murder. He had to get answers, even if it meant confronting the weight of suspicions looming over everyone involved in the case.
The drive to Nicholas's home was quick, but the tension in the air was notable. Every turn seemed to hide an unseen threat, a feeling that only intensified as Masahiro parked outside Nicholas’s modest house. He took a deep breath, needing a moment of clarity before moving forward.
He knocked firmly on the door, and the silence that followed seemed to stretch on. Moments later, the door opened, and Nicholas stood in the doorway, his brow furrowing in confusion as he looked up at the visitor. 
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Gold & Sand Chapter 71
Masahiro opened the door to his apartment, exhaustion settling into his bones. The night had been a blur of interviews, dead ends, and mounting frustration. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and found Matthew sitting on the couch, eyes fixed on the TV. The low hum of the television filled the room, but it was clear Matthew wasn’t paying much attention to it."You’re still awake?" Masahiro asked, his voice rough from the long day.Matthew glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. "You look like shit. What’s wrong now?"Masahiro let out a sharp breath, his shoulders sagging as he tossed his jacket onto the chair. "We’re not any closer to solving Rocco’s death. We’ve got a bigger mess now."Matthew turned down the volume of the TV, his gaze sharpening with interest. "What happened?"Masahiro ran a hand through his hair, pacing slightly as he talked. "Someone infiltrated the police station. Used Charles&
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Masahiro stepped out of the steamy bathroom, his body glistening with moisture, the scent of lavender and mint lingering on his skin. He had just finished a relaxing bath, his mind at ease as he padded across the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. His toned, muscular physique was on full display, the pale skin of his chest and arms contrasting with the dark fabric of the towel. As he reached the other side of the room, he noticed Matthew laying on the bed, his attention fixed on his phone.Matthew looked up from his screen, his eyes at the sight of Masahiro. He couldn't help but admire his physique, the way his broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist. Masahiro's hair, still damp from the bath, fell in messy strands around his face, giving him a wild, untamed look. Matthew casually averted his gaze.Masahiro tossed the towel onto a nearby chair an
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Masahiro sat at the edge of the cluttered table, staring down at the map that had consumed weeks of his life. Lines, symbols, and marks swirled in front of his eyes like a chaotic mess, leading them to dead ends. Every lead they had chased down in Cleveland led nowhere, or worse, to random locations that had nothing to do with Mr. K."Another waste of time," Masahiro muttered under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair.Lewis, seated next to him, furrowed his brow as he sifted through another set of potential coordinates. “We’re missing something,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Nothing adds up. It’s like the map is purposely designed to mess with us.”Masahiro could sense the weight on Lewis too, but the pressure wasn’t going to get them anywhere. The two had been at this for days, and every route they mapped had collapsed.“Anyway… what if those symbols aren’t random places? What
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The moonlight streamed through the blinds, casting faint patterns across the floor as Masahiro sat on the edge of the bed, his head buried in his hands. The map was burned into his mind, every twisted symbol, every seemingly random line. No matter how many angles he considered, it didn’t add up. How could a public venue, one used by government officials, be connected to Mr. K’s underworld?The bed shifted slightly as Matthew sat down beside him, silent at first. He reached out, placing a hand on Masahiro’s back, a rare gesture of comfort. "Still stuck on that map?"Masahiro sighed, lifting his head. "I just can’t wrap my head around it. It doesn’t make sense. Why would the map lead to a public building? How could someone like Mr. K be tied to something so... visible?"Matthew leaned back, arms crossed as he considered Masahiro’s frustration. His gaze was sharp, filled with that quiet wisdom he’d gained from a lifetime na
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The police station buzzed with a quiet intensity as Masahiro and the team gathered around a map of Cleveland, their eyes scanning over the newly marked locations. Weeks of frustration had started to fade, replaced by a sense of unease as they began to uncover the dark reality behind the public venue they’d zeroed in on.Lewis, tapping a pen against his notebook, leaned forward. "The venue has a strange history. It’s hosted countless high-profile events, but there’s hardly any record of who attended. It’s all kept under wraps, like there’s something they don’t want anyone digging into."Masahiro frowned, glancing at the timeline laid out before them. "And you’re sure this isn’t just coincidence?"Lewis nodded, his expression serious. "I thought it might be at first, but there’s a pattern. Every few months, they host private events. The guest lists are always confidential, but whenever these events happen, poli
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The night of the event arrived with an air of opulence that felt almost suffocating. Masahiro adjusted his tie in the reflection of a polished marble pillar, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Dressed in a tailored suit, he blended seamlessly into the world of wealth and power. Beside him, Matthew looked every bit the part in his own high-end ensemble, exuding a confident charm that was hard to ignore.As they stepped through the grand entrance of the gala, the atmosphere enveloped the… a luxurious ballroom bathed in soft golden light, chandeliers sparkling overhead like a constellation of stars. The scent of expensive perfume mingled with the aroma of gourmet hors d'oeuvres wafting from the catering stations. Yet beneath the glitz and glamour, an undercurrent of secrecy throbbed, sending a shiver down Masahiro’s spine.“Keep your eyes peeled,” Masahiro murmured, his voice low as he scanned the room.Matthew no
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The precinct buzzed with the kind of energy that only came after a long-fought victory. Mr. K, one of the most elusive figures in the criminal underworld, was finally behind bars. The officers who had worked tirelessly on the case stood around a central table, passing around champagne bottles and takeout containers, laughing and recounting their roles in the night's events.Masahiro sat in the corner, watching the team celebrate. It wasn’t just any case… they had arrested Kenneth Hartman, the Minister of Trade and Economic Development. The shockwaves from his arrest hadn’t even begun to settle.“Can you believe it?” David was saying, shaking his head in disbelief as he recounted the moment, they realized Mr. K’s true identity. “A minister, involved in all this… We knew this case went deep, but this? A full-blown mafia baron right under our noses.”Evelyn, standing nearby, added, "It's insane. I’ve bee
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The apartment door clicked shut behind them.Clark dropped his coat on the entryway bench with an exaggerated sigh and muttered, “I am emotionally exhausted. And not in a sexy, Victorian-tragedy kind of way. I mean in the ‘my feet hurt and my soul’s tired’ kind of way.”Adam, already heading for the kitchen, tossed back, “Then take your heels off, sweetheart.”Clark gave him a long, dry look. “They are Italian leather Oxfords. But yes, thank you, masculine voice of reason.”Adam opened the fridge, grabbed leftover rice, and dumped it unceremoniously into a pan. A beat passed, then the stove clicked to life. Clark wandered in behind him, slower, more graceful, toeing off his shoes like someone doing a product demo.“You’re cooking,” Clark said with a soft note of surprise.“I’m heating shit up.”“For you or for both of us?”Adam didn’t look up. “Depends. You gonna whine the whole time?”Clark leaned against the counter, resting his chin in his hand. “Maybe. Depends. Are you going to be
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Arthur sat at his desk, staring at the clock.3:59 PM.He shifted in his chair. Cleared his throat. Glanced at the file in front of him, then at Masahiro—just across the room, seated, silent, flipping through a thick report with surgical focus.Arthur hesitated.Then looked again.Masahiro didn’t look up. Not immediately. Just turned another page with that same eerie calm.Then, without raising his voice or his head, he said, “I know exactly what you want.”Arthur straightened. “I—uh—what?”Masahiro looked at him now. Direct. Sharp. “You want to visit Cassidy.”Arthur’s ears burned. “Sir, I was going to—”“You’re allowed,” Masahiro interrupted. “Go.”Arthur blinked. “Really?”Masahiro returned to his file. “You’ll be back before shift ends.”Arthur nodded quickly, standing. “Yes. Thank you, sir.”Masahiro said nothing more.Arthur cleaned his desk—neatly, as always—then grabbed his coat and bag. He moved quickly but tried n
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Adam got up from the couch and tugged the curtain back.Clark was outside on the balcony, sitting on the tile floor like it wasn’t cold, wearing nothing but Adam’s hoodie. Legs bare. Hair a mess. Staring at the skyline like it had wronged him.Adam slid the glass door open. Leaned against the frame.“You really gonna sit out there half-naked like a damn raccoon in a hoodie?”Clark didn’t look over. “What do you care?”“I don’t.” Adam stepped out. “Just don’t want to explain to Masahiro why you froze your ass off in my perimeter.”Clark exhaled through his nose. “I’m not cold.”“You’re barefoot on stone, dumbass.”Clark muttered, “I’m not here for a fashion lecture.”Adam didn’t rise to it. Just crouched beside him, arms on his knees, voice low. Calm. But with that steel under it.“You need a signal.”Clark blinked. “What?”“In public. Court. Crowd. Whatever. You’re too proud to say ‘help.’ So don’t. Just tap.”Clark stared at him.
