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
The air was cold, sharper here than it had been on the road. The distant rustle of trees and the faint crunch of gravel underfoot told him they were back—back at the villa, back in the place he had so desperately tried to flee. The realization tightened around his chest like a vice.Rough hands yanked him upright, forcing him to stumble forward. He couldn’t see, but he could feel—every tug on his bound limbs, every scrape of dirt and stone beneath his bare feet, every mocking laugh from his captors. They manhandled him without care, each shove and pull stripping away another fragment of his dignity.And yet, amid the chaos, Dean's mind raced. He couldn't stop thinking about what awaited him on the other side of those villa doors. Shawn’s rage, his cold, calculating demeanor, his penchant for turning Dean’s defiance into a lesson… It all loomed over him like an impending storm.But fear wasn’t the only thing brewing in Dean’s heart. There was something else, buried beneath the layers o
That night, Dean leaned against the window of the villa, his gaze sweeping over the endless expanse of forest. A thought, one he had buried for far too long, surged to the forefront of his mind—escape. The idea wasn’t new; it had lingered for weeks, perhaps months. But fear, coupled with the relentless pain his body endured, had always forced him to suppress it. This time, however, was different. A quiet determination began to take root in his chest. He knew that if he stayed, he would only face endless torment. Anger and defiance churned within him, a smoldering ember on the verge of igniting, granting him a rare and precious courage.Over the next few days, Dean began preparing in secret. He packed only the bare essentials: water, clothing, and a few rudimentary bandages—all crammed into a small bag. He had no room for sentiment or hesitation. His singular focus was to leave this place of despair behind, even if it meant pushing his battered body to its breaking point.And then, the
The image of ruthless gangs he had seen on the internet instantly flashed through his mind—lawless groups capable of unspeakable deeds. Among them, the Shark Gang stood out. At this moment, Dean was certain: perhaps the Dragon Gang and Cobra Gang weren’t as savage, but the Shark Gang? They were wild beasts, untamed and without conscience."So, it’s true..." Dean muttered under his breath. His grip on the file tightened, his knuckles turning pale. He could feel the fury welling up inside him, threatening to break free. But he knew better. Letting anger consume him now would only make him an easier pawn for Shawn to manipulate.Taking a deep, steadying breath, Dean forced himself to tamp down the storm within. He turned his attention to the other walls in the room, desperate to uncover more clues—especially about the enigmatic figure Shawn kept mentioning. The mystery gnawed at him like a thorn lodged deep in his mind, sharp and relentless."Even the faintest hint will do..." he whisper
Dean trudged through the villa with heavy steps, his pace deliberated and unhurried. Though places like this no longer fazed him—after all, it wasn’t the first time he had been confined in such surroundings—his sharp eyes still swept over every room with practiced vigilance. He pushed open a door and found himself in a study.However, this study was unlike any he had encountered before. The walls, adorned with nearly bare shelves, held little more than a few ornamental objects and a couple of lifeless potted plants. Dean's brow furrowed slightly as he paced around the room, scanning every corner. Yet, not a single book was in sight.“A study without books?” he murmured, a hint of perplexity in his voice. “Doesn’t this mafia boss like to read?”The thought took him back to the other places he’d been held, where the captors were eager to flaunt their cultivated tastes. Lavish rooms often boasted rare art pieces or collections of antique tomes, designed more to impress than to be used. T
The question was more rhetorical than genuine—Dean already had a good idea. A secluded location like this could only serve as a front for illicit activities. Yet, something compelled him to ask. To his surprise, this seemingly straightforward inquiry yielded an unexpected clue.Shawn leaned casually against the wall, the faint jingle of keys in his hand punctuating the stillness. His tone carried a strange mix of nonchalance and sentimentality. “This?” he said, glancing around as if seeing the place anew. “This is a villa I gave to that person.”Dean’s attention sharpened instantly, though his expression remained carefully neutral. Shawn’s words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. Who was this person? And why had they been significant enough to warrant such a gift from someone like Shawn?Dean paused for a moment, his mind churning with questions. “That person?” he thought. He didn’t press, choosing instead to remain silent, waiting for Shawn to elaborate.Shawn glanced
Shawn halted in his tracks, a cold sneer curling his lips as mockery gleamed in his eyes. “Oh, so you do care about your friend, huh?” he drawled, his voice dripping with disdain. “I ask you to recall certain things, and you respond by bringing up your friend?” His tone was sharp, taunting, as though Dean's question was beneath his notice.Dean clenched his teeth, swallowing the surge of frustration and despair. He knew all too well that in his current state, he had no leverage, no cards to play. Yet, desperation outweighed pride as he pressed on, his voice trembling with plea, “Please… just tell me…”To Dean, this wasn’t merely about a friend. It was about Damon, Chen, and Leo—three people who stood among the precious few he could trust, the pillars of strength in his life. He couldn’t just sit here, powerless and in the dark, while their fates hung by a thread."I could tell you," Shawn murmured, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a low, insidious tone that coiled around Dean li
The relentless torment had pushed Dean’s mind to the brink of collapse. His strength was rapidly draining, every fiber of his being crying out for respite. Yet he knew, deep down, that if he didn’t act now, he would perish in vain.As Shawn yanked his head out of the water once more, Dean seized the fleeting moment. Summoning the last reserves of his strength, he wrenched free from the hand that had clamped down on him like a vice. He crumpled onto the poolside, collapsing against the cold, hard surface, his chest heaving with desperate gasps for air. Wet strands of hair clung to his face as he lowered his head, his voice raspy and exhausted."I can’t remember..." he croaked, the words carrying a note of raw despair. "No matter how hard you push me, it won’t change a thing."Shawn stared at him, the fury on his face giving way to a cold, mocking smile. Slowly, he crouched down, raising a hand to slap Dean’s face lightly. Each tap was deliberate as if savoring the moment. His voice, lo
“Ah!” he gasped, his body still reeling from the first blow, but there was no time to recover. The second strike came almost immediately, this time even harder. The belt lashed into him with vicious precision, the pain slicing through his composure and digging straight into his nerves.Dean clenched his jaw, trying with every ounce of strength not to cry out, but the sheer intensity overwhelmed him. A guttural growl escaped his throat as he doubled over as much as his restraints allowed, his breathing ragged and uneven.Shawn watched Dean with cold, calculating eyes, savoring the power he held over him. He raised the belt slowly, the motion deliberated, his voice unsettlingly calm. “Remember yet? Or do you need me to help you jog your memory?”Dean’s mind raced, panic beginning to set in. He realized that if he didn’t find a way out of this, he might not make it through the night. His chest tightened with each breath, the taste of blood rising in his throat as he struggled to stay con
Before the words had fully left the stranger’s mouth, Dean was struck by a searing pain in his abdomen. The man had kicked him hard, the force so brutal that Dean doubled over, a stifled groan escaping his lips. “Ah… “. It was hurt.He barely had a moment to recover before another vicious kick landed, this time slamming into his shoulder. The impact sent him sprawling to the cold, unyielding floor. With his hands bound, he had no way to steady himself. His face scraped against the rough surface, leaving his skin stinging and raw.Gasping for air, Dean barely had time to process the situation before a heavy boot pressed down mercilessly on his chest. The weight crushed his ribcage, making it almost impossible to breathe. He squirmed instinctively, but the pressure only increased. The man above him let out a mocking chuckle, his voice dripping with derision.“Struggle, Dean,” he sneered. “Let’s see how proud you can still be.”Dean gritted his teeth, cold sweat streaming down his forehe