This strange sensation began to erode the defenses within Dean, slowly weakening his resolve. His vision was taken away, and with it, his other senses grew acutely heightened, every touch, every breath, intensifying the experience. Each kiss seemed to magnify the sensation tenfold, sending jolts of electricity through his nerves, as though every touch was a spark igniting something within him.Dean struggled to remind himself not to be deceived by this feigned gentleness, trying to hold onto the walls he had built around himself, but as those nauseating memories were slowly replaced, his body seemed to relax, inch by inch, despite the resistance in his mind. He unconsciously let out a quiet gasp, then quickly bit his lip, attempting to suppress his reaction, struggling to regain control."Okay, this side's clean now." The man suddenly stopped, lifting his head to speak. He took hold of Dean's hand, guiding him to touch the spot where his lips had just been, he asked softly, "Feel it f
Dean snapped back to reality, only to realize that he hadn't been given a chance to respond. The man seized his arm with such strength that it effortlessly drew him closer, pulling him into his grasp and that hand showed no hesitation whatsoever, firmly holding him in place, began moving him up and down, to continue the previous intimacy.It was as though time itself came to a standstill in that moment. The air in the car thickened, and the rhythm of breathing grew frantic and disordered. Dean could feel every second tugging at the edges of his sanity. His body seemed to have lost all strength to resist, whether it was resisting the man before him or the growing desire within himself, he could no longer control either.The atmosphere inside the car seemed to have transformed entirely; everything outside had blurred into a haze, leaving only the man's hand in sharp focus, only the sound of his own breath, heavy and uneven, and only the overwhelming force of the collision, continuously
"Yes, but you can take your time," Ted said gently. He didn’t push or hurry him, merely supporting him as they walked into the villa, their steps unhurried yet resolute. Though Dean was fully aware that today marked the beginning of yet another chapter of confinement, at this moment, Ted offered him a rare kind of warmth—the rarest type of warmth before pain.Dean obediently stood, though his leg still throbbed faintly from the earlier wound. He made no sign of discomfort, his resolve already steeled—he knew this moment was inevitable.With Ted leading the way, they arrived at the entrance to the basement. The heavy iron door loomed before him once again, and, as always, its presence felt like staring into an abyss, pulling him into darkness."Boss is inside. Go in when you're ready," Ted said, his tone brimming with heartfelt sorrow, his eyes filled with boundless care for Dean.Dean took a deep breath, his heart sinking as though it had been plunged into the depths of the ocean. In
As he stepped out of the bathroom, his eyes immediately landed on the bed in the center of the room. The white sheets, the soft pillows—what should have been a place of comfort now felt like an abyss, pulling him back into the memories of shame and helplessness. His throat tightened, and even breathing became a struggle.He instinctively took two steps back, his eyes fixed on the bed. He tried to convince himself that it was just an ordinary bed, but Ben's voice echoed in his mind once more: “One could even say that as long as there’s a place for you to lie down, that's all that matters because all you need to do is lie there, while the rest, men will do for you.” The words clung to him like a relentless curse, leaving him no way to escape.Dean felt a tightness in his chest, as though a massive weight were pressing down on him. He turned to look around the room, searching for a place to hide, but every corner seemed to carry the same dark shadow. He picked up the pillow, glancing aro
Shawn carried Dean back to the villa, his steps slower than usual. His arms held Dean tightly, as though afraid that the slightest loosening of his grip would cause this person to vanish completely from his life. He made his way straight to his own room, carefully placing Dean on the soft bed.The moment his body touched the bed, Dean immediately stiffened. His gaze fixed on the familiar bed in front of him, and an overwhelming sense of resistance and fear surged within him. He remembered Ben's words: “For others, a bed is for sleeping, but for you, the bed’s purpose is to let a man pin you down.” The words lingered in his mind like a curse, preventing him from coming near the bed. Even sitting on it felt like unbearable torture, every inch of the bed was a reminder of the pain he couldn't escape.But more than the bed, Dean feared the person standing in front of him. Shawn wasn’t just his captor; he was a powerful figure who could effortlessly harm those around him. And now, what wei
Dean kept his head lowered; his voice eerily calm. "It’s my fault," he said flatly. "I didn't remember. If I had remembered sooner, I could have said something. It was me—when I saw Ben, I froze. I followed Dr. Parker instead. It’s not Dr. Parker’s fault, it’s not your fault. It’s mine... I deserve to be punished."Hearing those words, Shawn’s heart felt like it had been sliced open. He lifted his head, his eyes red, tears tracing down his cheeks. Standing up, he seemed to lose all strength, and his legs buckled beneath him, causing him to collapse to his knees in front of Dean. He buried his face deeply into Dean’s lap, gripping his hands tightly, his body wracked with sobs. "It’s me... It’s my fault. I’ve done this to you, I’m so sorry..."Dean looked down at Shawn kneeling before him, an unfamiliar emotion stirring. He knew Shawn’s remorse was genuine, but deep down, he felt that no guilt could change the past, nor could it heal the fractures within him. Gently, he withdrew his han
"Dean, boss told you not to go down," Ted's expression was unusually calm, but there was an undeniable edge of tension in his voice."What's going on?" Dean asked, confusion evident in his tone, as he tried to move past Ted to see what was happening downstairs.Ted's brow furrowed slightly, he hesitated for a moment, but in the end, he chose to reveal the truth. "That bastard Ben showed up."Dean froze for a moment, then quickly picked up on the subtle shift in Ted's words. "That bastard"—Ted no longer referred to Benjamin Winston as "Uncle Ben." It hit Dean all at once: perhaps Ted knew more than he had let on."Is... is he here to see me?" Dean asked softly, his voice carrying a trace of numbness.Ted nodded, but quickly added, "Yeah, but don't worry, boss will protect you."Dean gave a bitter smile, as though he found little comfort in the words. He raised his gaze to meet Ted's, a questioning look in his eyes. "Will he?" he asked, the doubt unmistakable.Ted looked at him with a s
Ted seemed to sense the weight of Dean's silence and sadness. He knew that dwelling on it would get them nowhere, so he quickly decided to shift the conversation, hoping to lighten the mood a little."Hey," Ted said, reaching over to gently shake Dean's arm. With a playful grin, he turned his head, offering Dean a glimpse of the back of his own head.Dean looked at Ted in confusion, his mind oddly still, as if untouched by any real emotion. He couldn’t understand why Ted was doing this, and for a moment, all he felt was a quiet sense of bewilderment. ‘Why is he doing this all of a sudden?’When Ted noticed Dean’s lack of response, he repeated the motion, shaking his arm once more before turning his head to show the back of it again."What are you doing?" Dean couldn't help but ask, his voice laced with confusion.Ted gave a small smile, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere. "If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll let you hit the back of my head. Once isn’t enough? Well, I’ll make it tw
He spoke leisurely, but his tone showed a trace of helplessness. “She even told me to stay away from you. Said a kid like you had no business getting tangled up with people like us… that you'd only end up getting hurt.”Dean fell silent. He could understand Greg’s mother’s concerns—the Golden Eagle Gang’s reputation was well-known. And back then, he had been just an ordinary student… a little crybaby, even.But then Greg’s tone shifted, tinged with pride. “I proved to her that you weren’t a coward, just someone who knew how to endure. Only then did she agree to help me and speak to that old man. And after that… well, the old man took care of the problem.”So that was it. Everything finally clicked into place.Dean finally found his voice, though there was still disbelief in it. “How did you prove it?”Greg chuckled softly. There was an unmistakable laziness in his voice as he drawled, “I had my guys pretend to go after your family. And you rushed out to protect them. That doesn’t exac
Dean was momentarily stunned, then let out a sigh and smiled. “You truly do know a lot.”Robert lazily waved a hand, his tone carrying a hint of indifference. “Go get some rest…”Dean nodded, stood up, and headed for the door. Just as he reached it, he turned back to glance at Robert, a mix of emotions flickering in his gaze. “Uncle Robert, see you later.”Robert watched his retreating figure, the corners of his lips curling slightly. There was a barely perceptible trace of admiration in his eyes. ‘What a good kid.’Just as Dean was about to step out, Robert suddenly spoke. “By the door, on the left-hand shelf, second tier, second from the right—those antique gold-rimmed cups. Take them. They’re yours.”Dean froze mid-step, turning back in surprise. “I can’t possibly accept that!”Robert’s expression remained unchanged, his tone calm yet carrying an undeniable authority. “Take them. No refusals.”Dean opened his mouth, wanting to protest, but in the end, he simply walked over to the s
Dean furrowed his brow, a sense of unease creeping up his spine. Something in Robert’s words hinted at layers beneath the surface, as though there were truths left unspoken. His fingers tightened slightly as if trying to steady the flutter of uncertainty in his chest. “Like what? How much do you know? How… how far back does it go?”Robert’s gaze remained steady and sharp as he slowly uttered a name. “I know about what happened between you and Benjamin Winston. Does that answer your question?”The air seemed to freeze at that moment. Dean’s usually composed expression cracked, a flicker of shock flashing across his face. His throat tightened, his pupils narrowing slightly. Almost instinctively, he took a small step back, his lips trembling. “You… how could you know?”Robert’s gaze didn’t waver. He still held that unsettling calm, the air around him thick with a sense of unspoken power. But his voice carried a subtle pressure. “Do you know why that bastard stopped?”Dean’s breath caught
"If we’re going to look into this, someone has to talk to him." Dean’s expression remained calm, but his eyes were unwavering. "I’ll be careful."Greg stared at Dean long before muttering, "Don't trust that old man too easily."Dean gave a nod and then set off on the final stretch of the path leading to the villa. He hadn’t expected anything particularly unusual—until he emerged onto an open clearing and saw a private helicopter approaching. He froze for a few seconds. Good thing he wasn’t afraid of heights, or else he would never have a chance to meet the old man.The helicopter carried him up to the mountaintop, where a team of impeccably trained attendants awaited him. They said nothing, merely bowed with perfect composure and led him forward.It wasn’t until he stepped inside the legendary villa that he truly grasped the scale of its opulence.The corridor alone was dazzling—gilded and magnificent, lined with a carpet so thick and plush that each step felt as if it might swallow h
Greg’s gaze drifted from Chen and Damon back to Ben, his eyes narrowing slightly, a calculating glint hidden beneath his casual demeanor.Ben’s eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and challenge, a hint of resentment flickering beneath his arrogant demeanor. He lifted his chin slightly, his face radiating pride. “Well, young master, I have now proved I’m not the mastermind behind all this.”Shawn’s footsteps approached from a distance, calm and measured as ever. His voice carried a cool tone. “Maybe not for those two matters, but I have something else here.” He walked steadily toward them, his hand gently resting on Dean’s, each step was deliberate, though the weight of the situation seemed to hang heavily in the air.Greg offered a faint smile, his voice laced with a cold undertone. “Your interrogations never seem to stop, do they? You’ve certainly left a trail of misdeeds.” He glanced briefly at Ben, his eyes devoid of pity. “But do you think you can escape this?”Ben’s expression sh
Damon gave a slight nod, his expression unreadable, his eyes dark and impenetrable, as they could see straight into Ben’s soul. "That’s right. Now… how about you hand over that little thing you’ve got?" He turned to Greg."This?" Greg glanced at the gun in his hand, hesitation flashing in his eyes. After a tense pause, he forced a grin. "Alright… but don’t touch him there. Leave that part for me."Damon’s eyes gleamed with a cold smile, his voice chillingly casual. "Fine. Then I’ll cripple him first."Ben’s heart sank like a stone, his pulse racing as if his blood were flowing in reverse. He drew a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. "Gentlemen… can’t we talk this through?"Damon’s lips curled into a sharp, almost cruel smile, his eyes filled with disdain. "Sure. I’ll give you one chance to speak properly. Waste it… and there’s nothing I can do to help you." His tone was light, almost indifferent, but it carried an unmistakable weight that crushed the air out of the room.Ben’s
Greg’s uncle caught a glimpse of the simmering intent to kill in Greg’s eyes and finally broke down. His voice trembled uncontrollably, each word drenched in panic. "Young master! It was him! He told me to do it! Please, young master, just grant me a swift end!"Greg turned his head slightly, throwing a glance at his uncle. A cold, humorless chuckle escaped his lips. "Alright. Since you are being so sincere, I’ll deal with him first."He raised his hand, pointing the gun directly at Ben’s most vulnerable spot. The barrel loomed close—too close. Ben stared at it in wide-eyed terror, the last threads of his composure snapping. He collapsed into desperate sobs. "No! Please, no! Young master!""Fair is fair. He’s already been dealt with down there. Now, it’s your turn."Ben broke completely, his voice cracking with raw fear and anguish. "I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything! I’m not the mastermind! Neither is your uncle! We’re just pawns! He takes orders from me, and I… I follow the orders
Greg’s eyes narrowed as he shifted his gaze toward the man, his expression colder than ice. His voice was calm but laced with lethal intent. “Go on. Keep talking.”The man’s lips quivered before he finally broke down and spoke. “It was me… I waited until she fell asleep, then lit the charcoal to make it look like a suicide…”A heavy silence fell over the hall, suffocating and absolute. For a brief moment, it seemed the truth had finally surfaced—until the man suddenly raised a trembling hand and pointed in another direction. “But it wasn’t my idea! He made me do it! He’s the mastermind!”All eyes followed his finger and landed on Benjamin Winston.Ben, clutching his ribs in pain, still forced himself to stand tall, his voice rising defiantly. “Nonsense! You can’t just spout accusations like that! You can twist the story all you want, but don’t think I’ll sit here and take it!”Greg sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “Oh, you’re one to talk. Since when have you ever told the tr
Dean froze for a moment, then gave a small nod, though a deeper storm raged in his heart. He couldn’t deny it—Greg was terrifyingly formidable. His every movement exuded authority, and with just a few words, he could break a person’s will completely. Watching him, Dean couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. This heir to the underworld was far from ordinary—he was a born predator.The tension in the hall thickened like smoke, suffocating and inescapable. Greg’s voice, calm yet commanding, cut through the heavy silence. Sitting with one leg crossed over the other, he looked every bit like a judge presiding over a grim trial. His words carried an air of finality."That’s enough for now," he declared, eyes sweeping over the room. "Now, let’s move on… to the matter of my Aunty Jane."The moment he spoke her name, a chill ran through the room like an icy draft. Ben, still writhing on the floor, weakly lifted his head, his voice barely a croak. "W-What…?"Greg’s gaze dropped lazily to Ben, but his