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.
Chen’s appearance felt like a lifeline amid a storm, and Dean felt a flicker of hope for the first time in a long while. Despite everything he had been through, he couldn’t ignore the sudden sense of possibility that arose within him. He quickly responded; his voice filled with desperation: “Can you help me? I really… I need help.”There was a brief silence on the other end of the call before Chen’s calm voice broke through. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you. From now on, you need to keep important things with you at all times. But stay low and don’t act suspiciously—don’t alert them. I’ll arrange everything as quickly as possible.”The decisiveness in Chen’s voice gave Dean a sense of security he hadn’t felt in ages. It was as if someone finally understood, someone was finally taking his side. The walls around his heart, hardened by fear and isolation, began to crack open just a little more.The next morning, not long after Damon left the house, an eerie silence descended over the villa. F
Dean suddenly realized that Chen's demeanor at this moment bore an uncanny resemblance to how Damon had once described someone to him. A chill coursed through his heart as unease crept in—Chen, the man before him, seemed to merge with the reckless figure Dean had known in the past, forming a far more complex and dangerous persona.Taking a deep breath, Dean forced himself to stay calm. He needed to find a way out of this power game—a route allowing him to escape with his dignity and life intact. Gathering his thoughts, he proposed an idea that caught Chen slightly off guard. "Chen, what if I help you build your business to rival the Dragon Gang? In return, you let me walk away. How does that sound?"Dean wasn’t bluffing. If he couldn’t stay in the Cobra Gang to do what Dean Harrison excelled at—law—then he would pivot to what Noah Leslie was best at — business. Starting from scratch, he had carved out success before. With the Cobra Gang already having some foundation, he refused to be
The butler continued; his voice steady yet filled with a sense of reflection. "Damon’s personality was shaped by the loss of his family, by the absence of love and support in his life. In contrast, Chen still had his mother with him. To give Damon’s parents some closure, I took it upon myself to care for him—making sure he had everything he needed, from food to shelter. This responsibility has been mine for over a decade now."Dean could feel the depth of the butler’s devotion and understood the weight of his words. He couldn’t help but admire the man’s unwavering commitment. The butler added, "There was one time when I had a brief contact with the Dankworth family, that Chen invited me to join the Cobra Gang. At the time, there were rumors that the Cobra Gang was trying to seize certain things from the Dragon Gang, both tangible and intangible. I didn’t give those rumors much thought and politely declined."The butler’s gaze seemed distant as he continued, "But then, on a chance pers
Dean nodded slowly, his mind already accustomed to the working dynamics in this world, but the freedom to browse the internet had certainly made things feel a little lighter. While Chen’s grandiose claims about the security system might have been a touch exaggerated, Dean knew the man had a remarkable aptitude for technology, and it did help alleviate some of the pressure he’d been feeling. Yet, as he thought about the trouble that still loomed over him, a more pressing concern bubbled to the surface, and he cautiously brought it up."Chen," Dean began, choosing his words carefully, "I might have another problem. I have a contract with the Dragon Gang, but it was... illegally obtained, using my thumbprint without my consent."Chen didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he fell into a thoughtful silence, his gaze distant as he mulled over Dean’s words. After a moment, he spoke with a casual air, as if it were a topic all too familiar to him. "Damon’s actions, while technically illegal, a
"Mm..." Dean let out a noncommittal hum, clearly finding the pressure quite relaxing. He reveled in the rare moment of peace, unable to resist closing his eyes. But soon, his curiosity stirred him awake. "How do you know this technique? It's actually pretty nice," he murmured, lifting his head slightly, and squinting as he tried to glimpse Chen, who sat at the edge of the bed. His tone was lazy, almost feline, like a contented cat basking in the warmth.Chen gently turned Dean's head back, slowly pressing him down again, urging him to relax and lie back. "I taught myself. When I had nothing to do before, I’d read a few books on massage and picked up a bit. If it makes you feel good, I’ll be happy to do this for you more often." His fingers, almost subconsciously, slid down to Dean's neck. "Your neck feels a bit stiff. Have you been feeling any discomfort? Does it hurt?"Dean felt the pressure on the two tendons beside his cervical vertebrae as Chen gently kneaded them. He let out a so
Chen kneaded Dean's chest for a while before finally letting go of the reddened bulges. He rolled over the tip of the upturned nipple and slid it a few more times before slowly withdrawing. Chen didn’t move downward immediately; instead, he shifted to the other side, focusing his attention on Dean’s legs. After all, a proper leg massage typically works its way from the lower parts upward.Chen’s hand encircled Dean’s slender ankle with ease, while the other hand moved upward from the heel, kneading the leg muscles with firm yet gentle pressure. Inch by inch, he lifted and released, rolling his palms in circular motions as he worked his way toward the thighs. Yet, even as he focused on the legs, his gaze couldn’t help but drift to what lay beyond—the shyly hidden root and the soft, rounded curves of the fullness below.Perhaps it was the warmth of the oil, now heated by his palms, that heightened every sensation. Under Chen’s hands, the muscles in Dean’s legs quivered faintly, like a s
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