Leo let out a deep breath before answering, his tone carrying a hint of something complex, perhaps even unease. "Chen carried you back to your room," he said, his words weighed down by the emotion in his voice. Noticing the confused look still on Dean’s face, Leo continued, his voice a little more tentative. "I was worried that Chen might take advantage of the situation, so I followed him, just to see if he’d do anything strange."A faint, awkward smile appeared on Leo's face as if he were trying to justify his actions. But the smile quickly faded as he became serious again. "But when I saw him, he just made sure you were settled and then left your room almost immediately. He didn’t do anything. So, I went back to my room and went to sleep, relieved."Dean listened carefully to Leo’s explanation, trying to piece together the fragments of his own memories from the night before. Chen carried him back to his room. He couldn’t remember that at all. But, from Leo’s description, and the fac
As Damon snapped back to reality, his expression darkened instantly. He shot a sharp, warning glare at Chen, his voice low and menacing. "Don't push it." His tone carried an unspoken threat, the kind that hinted at something far more dangerous beneath the surface.Chen shrugged indifferently, his tone calm and casual as he continued, “Why not? It’s simply my way of entertaining guests.” His gaze held a hint of mockery and challenge as if deliberately provoking Damon.Seeing Damon’s face darken with anger, Chen seemed to find it all the more amusing, a playful gleam in his eyes. With a chuckle, he added, “Don’t say I’m being disrespectful to you as a guest. If you don’t mind, I could have a tent set up in the yard for you to spend the night in. You can wait there until my three distinguished guests—the dog, the cat, and the pig—leave, and then you’ll be able to take their place.” His voice was laced with clear amusement, as though he was eagerly watching Damon’s reaction, enjoying the
Damon's transformation was unmistakable. His touch no longer carried the forceful urgency it once did. Instead, a newfound gentleness and patience were imbued with a warmth that surprised Dean. It reminded him of Chen—steady, soothing, and disarmingly calm. For a fleeting moment, Dean felt disoriented, as though the Damon before him wasn’t the same person he had known. The soft glide of Damon’s fingers along his cheek seemed to seek something unspoken, a subtle response. His deep voice murmured close to Dean’s ear, "I can really change for you." The words sent Dean’s heartbeat into an erratic rhythm, a strange warmth swelling in his chest.But then, the kiss began to shift. The earlier tenderness gave way to a growing intensity, each touch of Damon’s lips deepening with unspoken longing. Dean could feel the heat radiating from him, the soft graze of hands on his back becoming more deliberate, more searching. Damon’s actions hinted at a growing hunger, his body pressing closer, the spa
When he spoke those numbers, his tone was unnervingly calm, as though reciting scars etched so deeply, they could never be forgotten. Yet within that composed voice, every word seemed to carry a profound sadness and smoldering anger. Dean felt an oppressive weight pressing down on him, a suffocating intensity that made it hard to breathe. He saw the flicker of pain in Damon’s eyes as if those numbers were not merely statistics of the dead, but the vivid echoes of lives once full of vitality. It was as though Damon was using those numbers to relentlessly interrogate himself, a ritual of mourning for the brothers he had lost. The unyielding grief and guilt etched on Damon’s face were impossible to ignore.Dean found himself at a loss, unsure of how to console Damon or whether he should even attempt to defend Chen. The emotional tangle was suffocating, a pressure that made every breath feel heavy and labored. After a moment of hesitation, he decided to focus on easing the tension, howeve
Dean frowned deeply, his thoughts churning with confusion and anger. He couldn’t simply let this matter slide; it gnawed at him like an unresolved knot. Determined to get to the bottom of it, he strode out of the room, his steps brisk and purposeful, the weight of unease pressing heavily on his chest. Without hesitation, he headed straight to find Chen.As he reached the living room, his eyes immediately fell upon Chen standing there, calm and composed, as if utterly unaffected by what had just transpired. His expression was unreadable, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside Dean.“Chen!” Dean called out, his voice sharp and laced with restrained fury. “Leo said you hit him—is that true?”Chen turned his gaze toward Dean, his demeanor unruffled, showing neither guilt nor concern. With a deliberate nod, he admitted his actions without a hint of remorse. “Yes,” he said plainly. “I had someone teach him a lesson.” His tone was so casual, so matter-of-fact, that it felt as though
In an instant, the entire atmosphere seemed to freeze. Damon and Chen exchanged glances, neither daring to utter another word, their eyes betraying a flicker of panic. No one dared to continue mocking or deceiving Dean, for they all realized that his patience had worn thin.After a brief silence, Damon raised his hand and pointed towards the man beside him, his voice soft but heavy with resignation. "This is Chen," he said as if acknowledging that further debate would be futile.Chen remained silent as well, not offering a single word. He simply stood up and walked towards Dean, his expression no longer one of the frantic aggressions from earlier, but instead, a complex mix of emotions, as if bracing himself for whatever question Dean might ask next."I am Chen," he said, his voice steady but tinged with a quiet apology.Dean seized Chen by the arm, pulling him along with a rush of anger, his footsteps hurried and unthinking. He didn’t even notice which floor he had reached or whose r
Chen finally spoke, his tone shifting from playful to more sincere, his voice carrying a vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. "At first, I punished Leo simply because I was afraid, he might take you away from me. Then I saw you get angry, and I realized how much you care about him as a friend. I was scared you’d leave with him, so I tried to get him to join the Cobra Gang. That way, you both could stay here, and I wouldn’t have to fear you leaving. But I never expected Leo to refuse."His voice became rougher, the glass in his hand slowly emptying. He lifted his gaze to meet Dean’s, eyes filled with confusion as if struggling to distinguish between what was real and what wasn’t. "If you really want to go back to the Dragon Gang......, could you at least be open to something? I don’t mind having an affair, as long as I can still have some connection with you. That would be enough for me."Dean froze. He had never seen this side of Chen before—so raw and filled with insecurity.
In the quiet night, Dean sat by Chen's side, attending to him with great care. He adjusted the bed, replaced the bandages with fresh ones, and gently dimmed the lights, mindful to avoid any harsh glare that might cause Chen discomfort. The room was so still that the sound of Chen's shallow breathing could be heard clearly. Dean watched him intently, a soft, tender emotion beginning to stir within him. Seeing the furrowed brow on Chen's face, a sign of pain, Dean instinctively wanted to encourage him to rest a little longer.However, just then, Chen slowly opened his eyes, his gaze slightly unfocused, looking at Dean with a touch of confusion.Noticing that he had awakened, Dean quickly leaned in closer and whispered, "You're awake? The doctor said the wound would hurt, so try not to move too much. Are you feeling any discomfort?" His voice was filled with concern, his movements careful as though he were afraid of causing Chen any more distress.Chen didn’t answer immediately. Instead,
The doctor hesitated for a moment before responding, "Psychotherapy is the most effective method. Through gradual and guided intervention, he can slowly unlock the parts of his mind that are closed off and begin to recall the memories that have been forgotten.""Is there a faster way?" Shawn's tone grew urgent, laced with a suffocating intensity that pressed down like a heavyweight.The doctor remained silent for a moment before finally speaking. "Hypnosis might be an option. Through hypnosis, it could be possible to directly access his subconscious and uncover the blocked memories. However, this method carries significant risks. If not handled properly, it could cause even greater psychological harm."Shawn fixed the doctor with a cold, unyielding stare as if weighing the pros and cons. After a long silence, he nodded slightly and spoke in a low voice, "The risks of hypnosis don’t concern me. I only want to know one thing—can he recover those memories through it?"The doctor replied
The sound of fabric tearing filled the room, and Dean’s already tattered shirt finally gave way, leaving him exposed to the biting chill of the air. Despair clawed at him, almost overwhelming. He shook his head frantically, trying to stop what was happening, but Shawn paid no attention to his futile struggles.Shawn walked over to the shelves, selecting several clips with deliberate precision. Returning to the bed, he began placing them on Dean’s body, one by one. His movements were disturbingly practiced, each action methodical and calm, sending a shiver of terror down Dean’s spine.Shawn didn’t stop there. What little remained of Dean’s clothing was swiftly torn away, leaving him entirely exposed. From the assortment of items on the shelves—vibrators, wands, and other devices—Shawn began to gather them with an unsettling calmness.One by one, he positioned them near Dean’s most vulnerable and sensitive areas, each placement deliberated, as if orchestrating a cruel and calculated pla
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