Damon stood frozen in place, listening to every word Dean uttered. A whirlwind of emotions surged within him, growing more complex with each passing moment. Dean's anguish and heartfelt confession left him utterly stunned—he had never imagined that Dean's love for him could run so deep, nor that it could come entwined with guilt and pain. The anger Damon had harbored began to dissolve, replaced by an unfamiliar yet overwhelming sense of remorse and tenderness. He was at a loss, caught in the grip of his own inner conflict.Instinctively, Damon stepped forward, his resolve firm as he pulled the shattered Dean into an unyielding embrace. Though Dean struggled against him, Damon refused to let go, his only focus on holding him close, as if anchoring him in a world that threatened to collapse. He could feel the faint tremors coursing through Dean's body, each one betraying the depth of his grief. A wave of protectiveness surged through Damon, compelling him to lower his head and press a g
The atmosphere between them grew thick with tension, the air charged with an unspoken animosity. Dean straightened his back, meeting Damon’s icy gaze head-on, his voice sharp with fury and disbelief. “How can you do this to me? You have no right to restrict my freedom!” His words rang out, seething with anger, as his eyes burned with a mixture of defiance and a raw, painful resistance.Dean's chest tightened, his heart pounding in his ears. He refused to believe that Damon—someone he had trusted, someone he had once thought was different from the ruthless gangsters he had always despised—could do something like this. The image of Damon he had carefully constructed, one of integrity and strength, was crumbling before him. He didn't want to accept it; he didn’t want to believe he had been so terribly wrong about the man standing before him. The reality of Damon’s actions shattered the illusion he had so desperately clung to, and it felt like a betrayal that cut deeper than any physical
On the other side of the paper, he wrote down the name Damon Greyson, and beneath both names, he began to list their personality traits and his feelings toward each of them. Unbidden, his mind wandered back to the moments he had spent with Damon and Chen. The fiery nights filled with passion, the deepening emotions, even the rare glimpses of tenderness they had shown—all of it had once led him to believe he was truly beginning to understand them, especially Damon. But now, an unsettling thought crept into his mind: perhaps all he had ever seen was the version of Damon that Damon wanted him to see. The same could be said for Chen. Everything now seemed like a carefully woven web of lies, designed to pull him deeper with every step.Even though his relationship with them had become more intimate over time, that intimacy was now clouded by a shadow that was impossible to ignore. Dean felt a weight settle heavily in his chest, as though a massive stone had been placed there, suffocating h
Damon gave a subtle nod, his expression unchanging. "Yes, I did. For your safety. It's better not to have contact with the outside world right now."Dean’s anger flared hotter, but he bit his tongue, forcing himself to hold back. With a cold, controlled voice, he said, "This is too much, Damon."Damon’s face remained as calm as ever, his tone unwavering. "You didn’t have a phone on the island, did you? Or is it that you think I’m being unreasonable because I didn’t arrange for Chen to come?"Hearing Chen’s name only fueled the fire of his frustration, but Dean knew there was no point in arguing further. Instead, he turned his face away, avoiding Damon’s gaze, though his mind churned with resistance and discontent.In the days that followed, Dean’s irritation grew more intense. Being cut off from the outside world was wearing on him, making him feel trapped and on the verge of breaking down. Damon, perhaps sensing his growing distress, placed an essential oil diffuser in the room. The
Gradually, Dean realized that he seemed to be trapped in an unsolvable dilemma. He both resisted the feeling of being controlled by desire and yet found himself deeply reliant on the fleeting satisfaction Damon brought him. He couldn’t understand why, as night fell, he became so desperate for Damon’s touch, even to the point where he knew his body couldn’t bear it anymore, yet still found himself unable to break free.Damon’s unwavering responses each night only added to Dean’s confusion. He couldn’t discern whether all of this was driven by Damon’s genuine feelings for him, or if there was something more, something hidden beneath the surface that he couldn’t grasp.It was another morning when Dean dragged his weary body downstairs for breakfast. One hand held the note Damon had left behind, while the other fumbled with the microwave to warm up his meal. Just as he thought he had a moment of peace, his phone screen suddenly lit up, breaking his calm. A strange message appeared—someone
Dean began to consciously monitor his daily state as time passed, seeking to identify any connection between his physical reactions and the diffuser. During the day, the scent seemed ordinary enough. However, as night fell and the faintly sweet and spicy aroma permeated the air, he undeniably felt an inexplicable heat and yearning rise within his body. This forced him to reconsider Chen's warning. Yet, with only this tenuous clue, it wasn’t enough to confirm anything conclusively. For now, he resolved to remain vigilant, quietly executing his observation plan.In the meantime, a new "routine" emerged in Dean's life: chatting with Chen. However, these exchanges could only occur when Damon was away. Dean would wait patiently for Damon to leave the house, ensuring the coast was clear before using the little tricks Chen had taught him to establish contact. What began as cautious and tentative exchanges gradually became more frequent. Their conversations, though outwardly light-hearted, we
Damon's gaze sharpened, and he stepped forward until he was standing directly before Dean, towering over him like a predator locking its eyes on prey. "The second party in a contract has no room for choice," he said, his voice cold and unforgiving, as though delivering an unassailable truth.Dean's breath quickened, the weight of the situation crashing down on him. He knew, with a sinking certainty, that he had lost all control in this conversation. It felt as though he were trapped in an invisible cage, with no way to escape, no way to fight back. Every word Damon spoke deepened his sense of despair, and a profound helplessness washed over him—like a man utterly at the mercy of fate, with no hope of altering his course.The tension in the room grew palpable, the air itself seeming to thicken as if it had grown too thin to breathe. Dean could barely draw in a full breath, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He knew, with a sinking heart, that he was powerless to resist Damo
Damon’s disbelief was palpable, his eyes narrowing with suspicion and fury. "If it wasn’t you, then who else could it be?" he spat, his voice dripping with anger. "These things—there’s no one else who knows about them, except for you and me! Not even the HR department of the Dragon Gang knows! If neither of us said anything, then how the hell does Chen know all the details?"Dean froze, a dull ache spreading through his chest. He looked at Damon, the eyes that once made him feel safe and cherished were now filled with suspicion and coldness. A wave of disappointment crashed over him, threatening to drown him. He had wanted to explain, to defend himself, but the words caught in his throat. It felt as though something was choking him, rendering him silent. Deep inside, he urged himself to stay calm, to not argue any further, but the weight of the suffocating emotions grew heavier and heavier. In the end, he couldn’t hold it in any longer—the pain within him cracked open, piece by piece.
But at that moment, his heart felt more at peace than ever before.Once the four of them were settled back in bed, Dean stood by their side, looking at each of them—still battered and bruised. Though they could speak and laugh, their faces were pale, their weakness evident, and it made his heart ache.He let out a soft sigh and was about to find a place to sit and rest for a moment when a familiar set of footsteps echoed from the doorway.Leo and Ted had arrived, followed by Linda and Tara."My dear little brother, are you alright?" Linda walked straight in, her gaze immediately scanning Dean, her eyes filled with concern.Dean flashed her a reassuring smile and shook his head lightly. “I’m fine. They protected me.”Tara’s eyes swept over the room, landing on the four men in bed, and she couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “I can tell. But you need to eat and rest too.”As she spoke, she pulled out a bowl of porridge from the thermos bag she was holding and handed it to Dean.Dean bli
Dean pressed his lips together, his eyes cast down, a faint, rueful smile tugging at his expression. “I just feel... a little greedy. And... I’m sorry for them.”The Messenger’s fingers lightly tapped on the desk, a sound that felt like both a reminder and an awakening. “Didn’t they say they don’t mind?”Dean fell silent for a moment, then gave a helpless smile. “But I’m supposed to be a decent man.”At his words, the Messenger let out a light chuckle. “Seems like you still don’t understand.”Dean looked up in confusion. “Understand what?”The Messenger’s smile faded, and his gaze grew intense as if he were peering into the depths of Dean’s soul. “Why are they all part of the mafia?”Dean froze, his breath momentarily catching in his chest.He had never truly thought about that question before.Why weren’t they ordinary people? Why weren’t they doctors, lawyers, professors, or even just regular businessmen?Why, of all things, were they in the mafia?Dean opened his mouth, but no word
Chen paused for a moment, then spoke in a low, steady voice. "Shawn wasn’t a coward. He knew the final blow would be the hardest, so he let us take the first hits."Greg picked up where he had left off, his voice calm but carrying a weight of its own. "He even predicted how Ricky would plan things. That’s why he made preparations on our way there."Dean’s pupils constricted slightly, and his mind buzzed with confusion.He remembered the blood, the agonizing screams—the ten shots Greg had taken, the hundred blows Damon had endured, the thousand punches and kicks Chen had absorbed.He even recalled the image of Shawn being dragged behind the motorcycle, the blood and flesh grinding into the pavement, leaving a glaring, gruesome trail.If what they said was true, then what about Shawn?What kind of resolve had he carried to endure all of this?As Dean’s thoughts spiraled into chaos, a cool hand slowly rested on the back of his hand.Dean snapped out of his reverie, looking down in surpri
Chen’s vision was still blurry, but he tried to focus. When he finally saw Dean clearly, a barely perceptible smile curved his lips. His voice was so weak, it was almost like a whispering breeze. “...Are you crying?”Dean sucked in a sharp breath, quickly wiping the moisture from the corner of his eye. He shook his head. “No... not at all...”Chen let out a soft chuckle, a hint of weary affection in his eyes. “You little fool.”Dean’s nose tingled, and he quickly lowered his head to pour water, trying to hide the overwhelming emotions that were about to break free.But just as he was handing the water to Chen, a muffled groan suddenly came from the other bed in the room.Dean’s head snapped around, and sure enough, he saw Damon’s fingers twitch slightly, his brow furrowed.“Damon!” Dean rushed over, his steps quickening. One moment, he was tending to Chen, and the next, he was kneeling at Damon’s bedside, his eyes filled with urgent concern.Damon slowly opened his eyes, his gaze daze
“Mr. Dankworth’s condition is quite serious. He already has underlying health issues, and with the additional strain from his injuries, his bodily functions have deteriorated significantly. He’ll need to stay in the hospital for extended observation.”Dean mumbled to himself, barely able to process the words: “Underlying condition? Could it be from the previous injury? And his physical discomfort... He told the butler he was sick.”The doctor nodded solemnly. “He’s been putting on a brave face. His body wasn’t in a condition to handle this kind of trauma.”Dean’s breath caught in his throat, his mind going blank.He had overlooked something so critical.When Chen was injured, he hadn’t even uttered a single word of pain. Even after taking a thousand punches, he just gritted his teeth and endured, all while protecting Dean.But he had completely forgotten about Chen’s illness?!And the nightmare wasn’t over yet.“Mr. Hansley’s injuries are the most severe.”The doctor held up the X-ray
Dean gasped for breath, the wound on his neck throbbing with a dull ache. But what truly filled him with terror wasn’t the pain—it was the thought that Shawn would be dragged away again, that Greg, Damon, and Chen would continue to suffer.He couldn’t bear it again.Blood, pain, despair.Dean could no longer tell whether it was sweat or tears that ran down his face. His hands were held tightly at his sides, and the blood from Sally’s blade still marred his skin. But he had no energy to care about his injuries anymore—His gaze was fixed on Shawn, still lying on the ground; on Chen, who was equally broken; on Damon and Greg, their bodies battered and bruised.Each of them had been cruelly torn apart.And Ricky had no intention of stopping.Dean clenched his teeth, his knees almost giving out beneath him. He nearly collapsed but summoned every last ounce of strength to stand tall. His eyes were full of pain and humiliation, and his voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper."Please...
Ricky let out a harsh, mocking laugh before giving a silent signal to one of his men.The henchman instantly understood and turned to grab the iron rod nearby, swinging it without hesitation toward Shawn’s knee—Bang—!!Shawn’s body jolted violently as he dropped to one knee, beads of cold sweat forming at his temple.Yet, despite the searing pain, not a single cry escaped his lips, nor did his expression betray even the slightest flicker of discomfort."Ha, you sure can take it," Ricky mused, his eyes narrowing, a cruel smile curling further on his lips. "I’m curious, though... how much longer can you endure?"He made a subtle gesture with his hand, and the henchmen swiftly moved to bind Shawn’s arms behind his back. The other end of the rope was tied to a nearby motorcycle.Dean’s heart seemed to freeze in his chest.No... this can’t be happening...?!The sickening smile on Ricky’s face morphed into something even darker—an almost gleeful bloodlust. He patted the motorcyclist's shou
Dean’s tears fell even harder, a torrent he couldn’t stop.Small issue?How could it possibly be a small issue?!The wounds on Damon’s body... they were so severe… how could he even pretend it was a small issue?!Dean’s hands clutched Damon’s clothes tightly, his whole body shaking uncontrollably.He wished he could take their pain away—wished he could endure it for them—but he couldn’t do anything... nothing at all...The only sounds in the abandoned factory were Dean’s ragged breathing and the echoing of Ricky’s manic laughter.Greg was still soaked in blood, his body a mess, lying on the ground. Damon, though still alive, was struggling to hold himself up, but the fabric of his shirt was completely drenched in blood, clinging to his skin in a gruesome display.Yet Ricky, witnessing all of this, still seemed unsatisfied.He was like a madman, with bloodlust gleaming in his eyes. He licked the corner of his mouth, savoring the moment, before clapping his hands together."Alright then
Dean’s voice shattered completely, desperate sobs breaking through. He fought against the ropes that bound him, but they held him fast, leaving him utterly helpless.Damon’s eyes were bloodshot, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. Chen's hands were shaking with fury, and Shawn, filled with a rage that could tear through anything, longed to tear Ricky and Sally apart. But they all knew—they had to endure... they had to wait until the end.The ninth shot struck Greg in the abdomen. His body finally gave way, collapsing to his knees, a trickle of blood spilling from the corner of his mouth.The tenth shot—The force of the impact sent Greg crashing backward, his body slamming against the ground with a heavy thud. His breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, his chest rising and falling violently.But even in that state, he managed to open his eyes just a crack, fixing them on Dean. A faint, fragile smile tugged at the corners of his lips."It's... nothing... all