"Even crazier, he went up to ask the lady in the supermarket how to make simple, delicious home-cooked dishes. When she suggested lemon chicken, he wrote it down; when she mentioned sweet and sour pork, he quickly asked if it needed to be marinated. He even asked how she prepped everything. I spent the whole day with him, and I could see he was really putting his heart into it."Dean swallowed hard as if he had something to say but couldn't quite bring himself to speak."But do you know what was on his mind?" Ted’s voice took on a touch of frustration. "He kept worrying that you might think his efforts were nowhere near as good as what Damon Greyson and Chen Dankworth could offer. Boss... he’s been feeling so insecure."Dean looked up slightly, his voice steady but sincere as he replied, "There’s no need for comparison."Ted sighed deeply, his tone softening as he spoke more earnestly, "But boss is insecure, Dean. Sure, he’s a gang leader, but in front of you, he’s just a man trying t
Dean shook his head, a glimmer of mischief flickering in his eyes. “I can pretend not to remember.”The messenger paused for a brief moment, then burst into laughter. “Oh? You know how to play the game, huh?” He snapped his fingers lightly, and the lights around them flickered sharply as if some unknown force had just been set into motion.“Well then, since you’re this entertaining—and my boss agrees—I’ll only erase the painful memories from your childhood. And…” The messenger tapped his own forehead, as if double-checking some detail. “The gift from my boss, too. See you next time! Looking forward to a happier, more carefree you!”As his voice faded into the distance, the office lights went out completely, and Dean’s consciousness drifted into darkness.He let out a soft sigh. He could still feel that lingering chill from before. But now, warmth surrounded him—the room bathed in soft light, the scent of tea curling in the air. Yet in his mind, those few days spent with the three of t
The violent impact sent both of them lurching forward. Dean instinctively grabbed the overhead handle to steady himself, his heart pounding against his ribs.Whipping his head around, he caught a glimpse of the rearview mirror—behind them, a car was closing in fast, its headlights glaring like the eyes of a predator.Ted’s expression darkened, his grip tightening around the wheel. Without hesitation, he slammed his foot on the gas. The engine roared in protest as the car surged forward, tires screeching against the pavement.“Shit! It’s the Sharks!” Ted spat, his voice edged with frustration. “I can’t believe they tracked us down this fast!”Dean’s pulse quickened. This wasn’t just a pursuit—it was a hunt.Dean’s face darkened further, his fingers clenching tightly around the seatbelt. “They’re Ben’s men?”Ted gave a sharp nod, his jaw tightening. “Yeah. His best enforcers. Ruthless bastards—they would never let us off that easy.” He laughed bitterly, his knuckles turning white on the
The moment the two of them stepped out of the car, a group of people immediately closed in, but they made no threatening moves. The leader approached Ted, offering him a card with a calm and polite tone. "This is from our boss. He said that if you give this card to Damon Greyson, Chen Dankworth, and Shawn Hansley, they'll know exactly who our boss is."Ted took the card and glanced down at it. There was no extra information—only a series of elegant and mysterious symbols. Frowning, he looked up and asked, "So, who is your boss exactly? What does this mean?"The leader simply smiled without responding.Dean, standing beside him, was filled with confusion but forced himself to remain composed. Though his instinct was to ask more questions, it was clear that this was not the time for a confrontation. He turned to Ted and said, "Ted, hold onto the card. Go to Damon and Chen. Whatever happens, we need to get Shawn out first. If they refuse to help, tell them it’s my request."Ted's eyes wi
Greg flashed a lazy smile, his voice light as air. "Well, well, Dean. It seems we are destined to meet each other."Dean’s tension eased slightly, but the unease still rooted itself deep in his chest. He responded coldly, "This ‘destiny,’ isn’t it something you planned all along?"Greg shrugged nonchalantly, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Don’t make me sound so sinister. After all, I did save your life."Dean fixed him with a sharp look, his expression a mixture of skepticism and something more. "So, should I thank you for that?""Is that ‘thank you’ all you’re going to offer?" Greg replied lightly, but there was an inscrutable depth in his eyes.Dean's senses heightened. He didn’t trust this man, especially not after their previous encounter when they’d "struck a deal." He knew better than to believe that Greg was helping him out of pure goodwill. Slowly, he spoke, his tone cautious. "So, what exactly do you want?"Greg’s smile deepened, and with a casual wave of his hand, he ge
Greg raised an eyebrow with a hint of pride, his voice laced with confidence. "I do have another name. As for my face..." He paused, adding with a teasing smile, "Maybe it’s just gotten more handsome with age."Dean rolled his eyes. "Cut the self-obsession. What was your name back then?"A mischievous glint appeared in Greg’s smile, his tone even more playful. "I’ll tell you after we’ve slept together. With the way you’re asking these questions and the demands you’re making... I’d say we’re ready for an even ‘deeper’ relationship."Dean’s face instantly turned red. Greg’s words had caught him off guard, leaving him at a loss for words. "You?! You still haven’t told me... how do you know the details about the Shark Gang?"Greg shrugged casually, his tone almost dismissive. "I told you, someone told me. As for who... well, it’s someone from the gang."Dean narrowed his eyes, trying to read any hint of truth in Greg’s expression. "You’re one of them, aren’t you?"Greg smiled slyly, like
“Wait, what are you doing?” Dean instinctively struggled, but before he could pull away, the cloth was already over his eyes, cutting off all light.“You’re so shy, I guess I’ll just have to save you some effort,” Greg’s voice came softly in his ear, carrying an irresistible, tempting allure.In the darkness, all Dean could hear was the sound of Greg’s footsteps drawing closer and the faint clinking of dishes on the table. His heart began to race, and his breathing grew shallow, completely uncertain of what was about to happen next.Suddenly, a chill swept across his chest, and he realized his shirt had been completely unbuttoned, the cool air brushing against his skin. Internally, he groaned—what kind of trick was Greg planning this time?Then, he felt small, warm objects being placed on his body, one by one. At first, the sensations were subtle, but as more and more touched his collarbones, chest, arms, and abdomen, it became increasingly impossible to ignore this strange experience
However, no matter how tender the foreplay, the next step always feels so harsh. Greg flipped over Dean, and they found themselves face to face. With a single lift and gentle descent, Dean’s body arched backward, accompanied by a soft moan, and the sound of the other’s muffled grunt.They gently rocked in the water, their bodies colliding, sending shattered droplets scattering in the water's warm embrace. Each impact stirred up ripples, growing larger with every movement, and propelled by the push of the water, their motions quickened.The dominant figure seemed restless, as though dissatisfied with the limitations of his environment. With a sudden motion, he pulled Dean close and stood up, gripping him tightly in his arms. Stepping out of the bathtub, he guided Dean’s hands, pressing them firmly against the wall, forcing his posture to straighten. He moved forward, pushing deeper from behind, taking their encounter to a more intense stage.“Ha… mmm!” With each collision, his sensitiv
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