Dean clicked open the most recent reports and quickly skimmed through them. With the reading skills he’d honed during his time at the law firm, he could easily understand the doctor's notes and advice. The latest reports indicated that Chen's physical condition was generally good, with no major abnormalities. However, Dean's gaze quickly shifted from these new reports to the older ones. He began scrolling through the records from 10 to 15 years ago.He had expected it to take some time to sift through the files, but when he reached the records from 12 years ago, the frequency of the checkups immediately caught his attention. At the age of 18, Chen had nearly weekly checkups! This aligned perfectly with the timeline the butler had provided. Dean’s heart began to race; he felt as though he was getting closer to the truth.He opened the earliest physical report from Chen's 18th year, and the content of the report shocked him. It detailed Chen’s injuries: multiple stab and slash wounds, w
Dean's heart skipped a beat, and his body leaned slightly forward as he cautiously asked, "So these were what the Dragon Gang people told you?"Leo shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes gleaming with a touch of mischief. "It wasn't them telling me directly. It was their members discussing it in front of me. I was just a kid sitting there, unnoticed, and I heard every word loud and clear."Dean took a deep breath. "Isn't there any other version of the story?"Leo's expression suddenly shifted, his demeanor becoming more alert, and his voice raised slightly. "Dean, you really are playing with fire here! Do you have any idea how dangerous these questions are?"But Dean's tone remained resolute. "It's not that I want to play with fire; I just want to get to the bottom of the truth."Leo's brows furrowed slightly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "You’ve never been involved in this business. Why do you want to know the truth? Me, on the other hand, it's different—I’m a full-fledged m
Listening intently to Chen’s account, Dean began to realize that the attacker’s background was anything but ordinary. Chen hadn’t named anyone explicitly but had dropped enough hints for a picture to form—this assailant moved with an agility and precision that stood out, their style of execution markedly different from the rough, straightforward tactics typical of the Cobra Gang. What’s more, the presence of someone so seemingly calculated and skilled in this setting felt jarringly out of place, almost as if an external force had quietly intervened.Though still a rookie in the underworld, Dean had developed enough instincts to sense when something didn’t add up—and if he could see it, so could Damon, a seasoned boss in the underworld. Dean had expected Damon to brush it off, to defend his gang’s reputation with a typical show of bravado, dismissing the incident as inconsequential. To his surprise, Damon didn’t react that way.Instead, after a moment of heavy silence, Damon spoke deli
Dean froze for a moment, caught off guard by the suggestion. His hesitation was clear, his gaze flickering between Chen and the problem at hand. Yet, as he assessed the height, he had to admit the idea made sense. With a resigned sigh, Dean carefully perched himself on Chen’s lap, feeling a flicker of self-consciousness.As he settled, Chen’s hands instinctively rested at Dean’s waist, holding him lightly to ensure he didn’t lose balance. The gesture was subtle but steady, and for a brief moment, the air between them grew unusually quiet, charged with a tension neither was willing to name.Surprisingly, Dean didn’t seem the least bit fazed by their proximity. Instead, he quickly immersed himself in his “task,” holding the razor with a careful precision that suggested an almost personal familiarity. His movements were gentle but meticulous as if tending to his own face. The sheer concentration on Dean’s face caught Chen off guard, leaving him momentarily entranced. Especially when Dean
Chen’s kiss seemed to hold a kind of magic, one that gradually made Dean lose himself, allowing him to let go of every ounce of resistance. His eyes fluttered shut, his pulse quickened, and his mind grew hazy. All that remained was the feeling of being drawn closer, of surrendering to the overwhelming intimacy they shared.At that very moment, a faint sound came from outside the door, but neither of them noticed. Neither did they realize that the bathroom door left slightly ajar, had slowly begun to creak open.It wasn’t until Dean suddenly felt a rush of cold air that his eyes snapped open, his face instantly flushing with a deep crimson. Just moments before, he had completely forgotten his surroundings, lost entirely in the heat of the kiss with Chen. Now, the reality of the situation hit him like a cold wave, and embarrassment washed over him as his mind scrambled to process what had just happened.At the doorway stood Leo, his eyes wide with shock as he stared blankly at the two o
Dean froze momentarily, his emotions a storm of anger and confusion. He turned to Leo, his gaze sharp and piercing. “What are you talking about? And what do you mean by ‘them’? Even if it’s a man, it should be him—not ‘them.’”The words slipped out before he fully realized the intensity behind them, but in that very outburst, he recognized something deeper within himself—a truth he hadn’t fully acknowledged before. The sharpness of his own voice was a revelation, one that spoke louder than any carefully measured response. It was as if the weight of his feelings had suddenly been brought to the surface, unfiltered and undeniable.Leo chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with playful mischief. “So, who are you going to pick?” His tone was calm, but there was an undeniable air of casual provocation.Dean opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. The question hung in the air, and he realized he had no answer. His thoughts were a tangled mess, and his emotions swirled too chaotical
Dean felt a sudden storm of conflicting emotions well up inside him. Damon’s suspicions weren’t entirely unfounded, and Dean was aware of that. Yet, he wasn’t ready to lay his cards on the table just yet. There was too much at stake, and perhaps, too much pride to surrender so easily.Dean took a deep breath, his gaze gradually firming up. “I don’t distrust anyone, nor do I completely trust anyone. But I trust the truth. That’s why I came to you—for help in finding it.” His words came out without hesitation, yet they carried a faint trace of unease, a subtle vulnerability. Deep down, even Dean wasn’t entirely sure of the full shape of the truth. All he could hope was that Damon would grasp this nuance.But Damon wasn’t so easily placated. His expression sharpened, his gaze cutting through Dean’s carefully chosen words. “Your reaction this morning didn’t quite say that,” he said, his tone lightly tinged with irony but still composed, calculated.Dean’s chest tightened, his pulse quicke
Damon didn’t respond immediately, merely lowering his head with a quiet sneer, as if he couldn’t care less about Chen’s accusation. But for Dean, the weight of the moment grew heavier by the second. He hadn’t expected to become the focal point of their conflict. The tension between the two men was increasingly suffocating, and it was Chen’s final words that struck him the hardest. He realized then that he hadn’t truly resolved the issue at hand—he had simply been dragged along without even realizing it.“That was in the past. Didn’t you hear him? Dean said I’ve been good to him,” Damon suddenly spoke up, his voice laced with a provocative edge. It was as though he hoped that one sentence would somehow restore his position in Dean’s mind as if to reclaim the ground he’d lost.But Chen’s gaze remained unwavering, his reply concise and sharp. “That’s just him being polite.” Chen’s words were blunt, but each one carried a depth of insight that couldn’t be ignored. He knew, as clearly as a
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