At that moment, Leo couldn’t help but interrupt, his tone teasing. “Well, well… I’m so jealous of Dean…” As he spoke, he casually draped his arm around Ted’s, wearing an exaggerated, almost girlish expression of envy. His eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was an underlying sincerity to his words. He dramatically sighed, as though he, too, were caught in this “romantic” whirlwind, which only made the others chuckle at his playful antics.Next, Chen spoke up, his voice calm and thoughtful, as though he were carefully weighing his words. “At first, I was just curious. Truly curious about what kind of person could drive Damon Greyson to this extent.” He continued casually, “He’s even managed to take down an elder of the Dragon Gang with his own hands, breaking all the previous rules. What’s even more curious is that the moment Dean saw me, he mistook me for Damon. That’s when I felt compelled to observe him, to see how long he’d keep up that misunderstanding. But more than that, I wa
Dean froze for a moment, a sudden thought rising in his mind. "Is this... Chen's mother?"But before he could voice the question, Chen was already staring at the gravestone, his voice steady as he spoke. "Mom, this is Dean Harrison, the one I love."The words hit Dean like a thunderclap, striking straight to his heart. His eyes widened in shock, his face flushing with heat, and he stood frozen in place. He hadn’t anticipated Chen would say something like that, especially not in such a setting, so suddenly.Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Chen continued, his tone unwavering. "But, Mom, your precious son also happens to like him.""Your precious son?" Dean was caught off guard, the words sending his thoughts into complete disarray.Chen seemed to notice his confusion. He turned to glance at Dean, a hint of playful amusement in his eyes. "Damon," he said casually. "The one Mom always doted on, the one she missed the most."Dean finally began to piece things together, though the r
Dean looked at him, a flicker of curiosity crossing his mind. “So why has it changed? Why does it feel so warm now?”Chen lowered his head, a small smile tugging at his lips, his gaze flickering with something unreadable. “Because I wanted to bring you here. I wanted to share with you those memories that are special to me. As for you... I’m not sure if you still remember the ones that are special to you.”Dean frowned slightly, confusion tugging at him. “What memories?”Chen let out a soft sigh, his voice carrying a trace of distant nostalgia. “We once went to a deserted island. We stayed there for three days and two nights. I built a small shack on the island, but you couldn’t sleep at all, not used to the unfamiliar place. I thought maybe tonight, we’d stay here, so I went ahead and prepared a bed for you.”Dean felt a sudden warmth, but as soon as he heard "spend the night," his eyes widened in surprise. "Sp... spend the night?" he asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.Chen gav
Dean froze, utterly at a loss for words. His thoughts spiraled into chaos as he lowered his head, unable to come up with a retort. Instead, he instinctively shrank back slightly. “I… How would I know if you’d keep your word?” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.Hearing this, Chen’s eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “Well then,” he said lightly, “how about I prove it to you? But first, let me ask you something.”Dean blinked, caught off guard. A sudden sense of foreboding crept over him, making him hesitant. “What do you want to ask?” he managed, his voice uneven.Chen leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a soft, magnetic murmur. “May I kiss you?” he asked, the question tender yet startlingly direct, as though he were seeking an answer to something far more profound.Dean froze, his heart racing like it might leap out of his chest. The sounds around him faded into a distant hum, leaving only the sharp clarity of the moment. He stared a
Abruptly, the car came to a halt. Damon stepped out, opening Dean’s door without waiting, and pulled him along once more, his grip just as firm. They walked a short distance before the surroundings came into focus—a cemetery.Dean stopped in his tracks, his heart skipping a beat. His voice faltered as he spoke, unsure of what to make of this. “A cemetery… again?” he asked hesitantly, his words tinged with confusion. “Are we here to see your dad?”Damon let out a cold, mocking smile, a hint of scorn in his eyes. "I'm not like Chen, useless enough to rely on elders to win your favor," he said, his voice dripping with disdain.Dean looked confused. "So, who are we meeting then?""Your parents," Damon answered without hesitation.Dean furrowed his brows slightly. "Aren't they elders too?""Not the same," Damon’s tone grew sharper. "He’s trying to please his mom. As for me, I’m looking to confront your parents."Dean froze, a look of confusion spreading across his face. "Huh?"As soon as t
Laughing and playfully teasing each other, the two finally got suited up and made their way toward the ski slopes.On the beginner slope, Dean stood nervously in the snow, his skis strapped tightly to his feet and poles clutched firmly in his hands. His body was stiff as a board. He couldn’t help but swallow hard, his voice trembling slightly. "We really have to ski down like this? What if I just tumble down the hill…?"Damon stood behind him, his hands gently resting on Dean’s shoulders, his tone light and reassuring. "If you fall, I’ll fall with you. Relax, just follow me." With that, he guided Dean’s waist, helping him ease into movement.Dean tried to shift his feet, but the skis wouldn’t budge as he wanted. He barely managed to slide a few meters before losing his balance and crashing into the snow, face-first. He lay there, stuck in the soft snow for a moment, before bursting into laughter. "Hahahaha... This is way harder than I thought!"Damon approached, pulling him up from th
"Train?" Damon raised an eyebrow, his voice tinged with hesitation. "I’ve never been on one.""Me neither," Dean replied, a spark of excitement flickering in his eyes. "But that’s exactly the point. We get to try something new together." He was naturally curious about new experiences, and the idea of sharing this first-time adventure with Damon made it all the more thrilling.Damon couldn't help but catch his enthusiasm, nodding in agreement. They quickly split the tasks—Damon would handle the ticket booking, and Dean would focus on researching the train's services and cabin details.However, when Dean began reading aloud various online reviews and recommendations with a serious expression, Damon’s mind started to spin. He threw his hands up in frustration. "Forget it, let’s just go with the most expensive option. First-class—the kind where you can sleep!"Dean blinked, then couldn’t help but smile in resignation. "The logic of the wealthy is so simple and straightforward."Under the
The air was oppressively silent, the only sound being Shawn’s heavy, uneven breaths. After what felt like an eternity, he finally reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as he gently took Dean’s hand. Despite the faint tremor, his grip was firm and resolute."Dean," Shawn said, lifting his gaze to meet his, his eyes brimming with an unguarded mix of guilt and affection. "I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hitting you. I’m sorry for hurting you with a whip. And... I’m sorry for what happened at the pool."Dean looked down at their joined hands, his expression unreadable. Shawn’s hand was warm and strong, but Dean could feel the undercurrent of pain running through his touch. His grip was tight, almost desperate, as though he feared Dean would pull away. Yet it was also restrained as Shawn used every ounce of strength to hold himself back.Shawn didn’t wait for Dean to respond. He silently led him into the adjacent room. As the door creaked open, Dean’s breath caught. The room was filled with
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