“Relax, it's coming,” Chen told Dean, his one hand seemed to help to support one side of Dean's hip, but in fact, it was a sinking opportunity to knead that softness, while the other hand aimed right at the center of the sensitive spot and began to press down on the protruding part on one side. When the space was made, his fingers eased deeper through that space.After a long ordeal, the void was finally filled. 'Urgh......' Dean's mind vanished the moment he was entered. His chin lifted slightly, his cheeks flushed, his lips parted slightly and his clean face was nothing but filled with a desperate thirst for desire. His waist twisted with great suppleness, tracing the entire upper half of his body in a tantalizing curve.To give Dean even more pleasure, Chen plunged his fingers deeper, with no longer hidden strength and ferocity, he went in straight and even deeper.'Umm ah ...... ah, slow down ......' Dean unconsciously let out a slightly annoyed moan, but he didn't know if it was
Dean was gently roused from his dreamlike state by tender movements. He felt his body being carefully lifted, and immersed in warm water, and with it came a refreshing sensation like never before. His eyes half-closed, he could only vaguely sense the rippling of the water, as if he were floating in a tranquil, gentle lake. His body and mind were enveloped by this comfort, and slowly, the chill of the night was banished.A faint smile curled on his lips, and in that haze between sleep and wakefulness, he teased, "The service of this unlicensed, not-so-professional, but handsome masseur is truly impeccable. Maybe I should leave a tip?" Just as the words left his lips, he felt Chen's warm breath brushing against his ear. Chen's voice came, playful and light, "You don’t have to leave a tip, but next time, be sure to come back for a massage and ask for the Handsome masseur' by code."Dean couldn’t help but smile at the light-hearted exchange, the ease of it making him feel more awake, thou
Dean took out his phone and gently swiped his finger across the screen, searching for a contact from the Dragon Gang. Each name that passed in front of his eyes made his heartbeat quicken a little more. Finally, he landed on a familiar name—Damon. At the sight of it, Dean’s heart skipped a beat, and his finger came to a halt. He hesitated, memories flooding back like a tidal wave, memories that were tangled and unresolved, ones that made him want to avoid Damon at all costs.He pulled the phone slightly away from his face, lost in thought. No, he couldn’t do this. After all the effort it took to escape from Damon’s grasp, seeking him out again would be like walking straight into a trap. Dean shook his head, trying to push those thoughts away. He couldn’t do it—not now, not ever.Suddenly, his gaze landed on another name—Leo. Yes, Leo! A spark of relief flickered across Dean’s face, and his mood lightened a little. Leo was a trustworthy friend, and perhaps he could help. Without a seco
Dean nodded slowly. "That's right. I was originally trying to reach Leo, but Damon ended up answering. Then he suggested..." He glanced at Chen's face, surprised to see no sign of displeasure.It was unexpected. Seeing that Chen didn't ask any further questions, Dean gathered his courage and asked, "Chen, would it be alright if I went out to meet Leo? Also, could Leo come to stay here for a few days?"Chen paused, setting his chopsticks down, and looked at Dean seriously. Then he gave a response that caught Dean off guard: "Yes, and no."Dean blinked, unsure of what that meant. "What do you mean?""You can go meet Leo," Chen explained, "but Leo can’t come here."Dean felt a rush of happiness when he heard that he could meet Leo, but his heart sank a little when he heard that Leo couldn’t stay at the house. Despite his disappointment, he was still satisfied with Chen’s response. After all, he knew he couldn’t expect Chen to fulfill every one of his wishes.Chen noticed every shift in D
Damon walked unhesitatingly to a corner of the restaurant, choosing a seat with a clear view of Dean. What unsettled Dean the most was that Damon didn’t order anything. He rested his hands leisurely on the table, his eyes fixed unrelentingly on Dean. That gaze wasn’t hostile, nor was it provocative; it carried a deeper weight—an intense scrutiny mixed with an almost unsettling focus. The restaurant staff, clearly intimidated by Damon's commanding presence, kept their distance, none daring to approach or interrupt him.Dean’s mind raced, a torrent of thoughts flooding through him. He had no idea what Damon’s next move might be. Would he suddenly make a scene and forcibly drag Dean away? Or worse, was Leo somehow working with Damon and had lured him into a trap? The invisible pressure bore down on him, every muscle in his body taut with tension. But Dean knew he couldn’t afford to panic. He needed to stay composed and craft the perfect response, and quickly.Leo’s voice broke through hi
Leo hesitated visibly at Dean's request, a flicker of unease crossing his face. His gaze wavered as though weighing his thoughts carefully. Finally, he spoke, though his voice carried an unmistakable note of caution and worry."Dean," he began, the words measured and deliberate, "I can’t make decisions on Damon’s behalf. To be honest, I’m not even sure what’s on his mind right now. Maybe these attacks he orchestrated aren’t just about finding you—" He paused abruptly, uncertain whether to continue, the weight of his own speculation visibly holding him back.Dean’s eyes never left him, sharp and probing, silently pressing Leo to go on. Leo took a deep breath, as though steeling himself, before pressing forward."Actually," he admitted, his voice lower now, "I’m worried Damon might have his own agenda. You know... Ch—" He caught himself mid-word, visibly startled by his own slip. He had been about to utter the name "Chen" but swiftly corrected course. "That man," he continued carefully,
Hearing this, Damon turned to Leo, a flicker of puzzlement crossing his eyes. "You’re really hungry?" His tone carried a hint of impatience, as though Leo’s suggestion had disrupted the rhythm of his thoughts.Leo froze for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Just as he was about to speak, Damon cut him off, calling out to the waiter with a commanding voice: "Waiter, bring out all the cooked food you have. The kid’s starving." His words were blunt and forceful, radiating an unmistakable sense of authority that felt almost oppressive.Meanwhile, Chen wasn’t idle. Turning to the waiter, he said gently, "Could you please bring this gentleman a cup of hot chocolate?" His words, though brief, were imbued with warmth and genuine care. Dean, noticing Chen’s considerate gesture, felt a faint sense of comfort, though it starkly contrasted with Damon’s cold and domineering demeanor.As Chen’s quiet act of kindness played out, Damon’s expression darkened even further. His brows knitted tightly,
Dean took a deep breath, steeling himself before addressing Leo. “It seems we’re not getting anywhere here,” he said decisively. “Leo, how about this—you come to stay with me. No, scratch that, go stay at Chen’s place for a few days. We’ll get some time to catch up.” His tone carried a certain finality, as though this was the only viable solution. Dean’s true aim was clear: to get Leo out of this tense environment, even if temporarily, and to carve out some uninterrupted time to reconnect.Leo glanced at Chen nervously, his unease plain to see. “I… I’ll be safe there, right?” he asked hesitantly. There was a flicker of doubt in his voice, betraying his uncertainty about Chen’s intentions and whether staying at his place would truly offer refuge or plunge him deeper into danger.Dean rolled his eyes with exasperation, his patience wearing thin. Standing up, he reached over and gave Leo a light pat on the head, a gesture somewhere between reassurance and admonishment. “If it wasn’t safe
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