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
At Dean's words, the twins seemed to relax, exchanging a quick smile, but the next moment, they locked eyes with one another, and their relaxed expressions quickly morphed into one of challenge. Dean rolled his eyes, shaking his head in exasperation. With a push, he shoved his way past them and quickly slipped between their bodies to get out the door.Dean thought his plans for the day were neatly in place. The only hiccup seemed to be the unexpected responsibility of the twins to take him back and forth. He assumed the day wouldn't be too complicated. But not long after, he realized how wrong he was. Things were taking an unexpected turn, and the situation was rapidly veering off course. When he finally settled into Damon’s car, he waited for a long time—but Leo still hadn't gotten in.Just as Dean was about to search for the elusive figure of Leo, his peripheral vision caught sight of something near Chen's sports car. Leo was being dragged into the car by Chen, unable to escape desp
Damon's words hung heavily in the air. "I can’t help it," he said, his voice carrying a subdued weight. "It feels like if I let my guard down for even a second, Chen will take you away from me." The confession was laden with unspoken fears, a thread of vulnerability and quiet desperation woven into his tone.Dean’s heart skipped a beat. He looked at Damon and saw someone different from the assertive, self-assured person he was used to. In this moment, Damon seemed softer, almost fragile—more like a boy grappling with his insecurities than the commanding figure Dean had always known. The transformation was striking, and it left Dean at a loss.The mixture of emotions within him swirled into an intricate knot—sympathy, confusion, and something deeper, harder to name. He wanted to reach out, to offer reassurance but found himself struggling to find the right words. Damon’s openness was rare, and Dean felt both moved and unprepared to face it. All he could do was hold Damon’s gaze, his ow
The atmosphere had grown uncomfortably awkward, and Dean couldn’t help but feel a wave of exasperation—not because of Linda’s reaction, but because of those two damned twins. Damon and Chen stood there, seemingly unbothered by the unexpected tension, their indifference only deepening the awkwardness. Dean pressed his lips together, searching for a way to defuse the situation and lighten the mood.Thankfully, Tara stepped in without hesitation. “Alright, gentlemen, why don’t we head to the store and grab some ingredients? We’ll need them for the barbecue later,” she suggested, her voice calm yet commanding, carrying a no-nonsense authority that left little room for objection. “Let these three relax in the camper while we’re gone.”Turning to Linda, Dean, and Leo, she said reassuringly, “You all chat and get comfortable—we won’t be long.” With that, she took the lead, heading toward the car. Damon and Chen exchanged a glance with Dean but said nothing as they followed her. Their movemen
The atmosphere in the camper immediately crackled with tension. Dean froze in place, his expression shifting between disbelief, shock, and outright indignation. “I—You—” he sputtered, his words caught in a tangled mix of embarrassment and rage. His face burned red as he glared daggers at Leo, clearly moments away from launching into a full-blown tirade.Just as Dean opened his mouth to deliver a sharp retort, Linda surprised him by chiming in. “Actually… I’m curious too,” she admitted, raising her eyebrows with a cheeky smile. Her tone was half-joking, but her eyes sparkled with the undeniable glee of someone fully immersed in the drama.Caught in the crossfire, Dean found himself at a loss for words. His gaze shifted helplessly between Linda and Leo before he finally sighed in resignation. “It’s... different,” he admitted quietly. He paused, as if gathering the courage to elaborate, then continued, his voice tinged with an honest vulnerability. “One’s strong-willed, the other’s gentl
Tara climbed into the vehicle, carrying the groceries she’d just purchased from the supermarket. After setting them down on the table, she clapped her hands decisively and said, “All set! We can head out now. So, who’s driving?”Chen was the next to board. After neatly arranging his share of the items, he spoke up without hesitation. “I’ll drive. Dean, can you check the navigation for me?” His tone was calm, almost casual, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—an unmistakable hint of expectation, as though he was looking for a small excuse to interact with Dean.But before the words had even settled, Damon, still lingering by the door, wasn’t about to be outdone. “Do you really need Dean to handle navigation?” he quipped, stepping past Chen and making his way to the table. Raising an eyebrow and flashing a sly grin, he added, “Why don’t I drive instead? Dean can sit with me and relax—no tasks, no worries. Sounds much better, doesn’t it?”The subtle tension between the two b
The words hit Dean like a sharp, direct blow, striking deep within him. He lowered his gaze, remaining silent for a moment, before letting out a long, resigned sigh. “Maybe… But what about you? If it were you, what would you do?”Without hesitation, Linda raised an eyebrow and smiled confidently, her tone light and assured. “I’d take both.” She said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world, a decision so simple it didn’t even warrant a second thought.Dean glanced up at her, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “Linda, do you know… this is way beyond anything I thought I could handle.” His voice dropped to a softer, almost reflective tone, as if speaking more to himself than to her—almost as though he were answering a version of himself from another time. Perhaps, he was not only referring to his present emotional turmoil but to the deeply ingrained taboos and principles that had shaped his past, his previous life.Linda lis
"You!" Leo's expression shifted in an instant from aggrieved to furious. He brandished the fork in his hand, as if ready to charge forward and demand justice at any moment. Unfortunately, faced with the twins' calm and unwavering demeanor, his attempted retaliation came across as both feeble and comical.To diffuse the tension, Tara stood up and clapped her hands. "Alright, alright, that's enough! No more arguing! Such a delightful meal deserves the perfect drink to go with it." She flashed a sly smile before turning to the car and pulling out a mysterious box. Inside were her prized cocktail tools and an assortment of spirits. "Today, you’ll get to witness my masterpiece!"And with that, Tara's cocktail performance began. She moved with practiced finesse—shaking, pouring, and spinning with fluid precision. The liquor sparkled under the glow of the fire and the soft light, casting mesmerizing hues that danced like rainbows. The seamless flow of her motions left everyone stunned, mouth
Shawn paused for a moment, then frowned, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and a touch of helplessness. "Ah, I forgot you can't handle spice." He leaned over the table, propping his elbow on it, and looked down at Dean, his gaze sharp. After a brief silence, he sighed and muttered, "Couldn't you have just told me you can't eat this?"Dean pressed a hand to his throat, struggling to calm the coughing fit. He lifted his gaze, his eyes carrying a trace of exhaustion, but his voice remained soft and distant. "It's fine," he murmured.Shawn shot him a sharp look, clearly dissatisfied with Dean's dismissive response but chose not to press the issue further. He slid his untouched bowl of white porridge in front of Dean, his tone firm. "Eat mine, I haven't touched it yet." Without waiting for a reply, he took Dean's bowl, placing it in front of himself.Dean glanced at the bowl of porridge, hesitating for a brief moment before picking up the spoon and scooping up a mouthful. The warm
Shawn stood frozen, his gaze dark and fixed on the scene before him. His fists clenched, knuckles turning white as if he were struggling to control some rising emotion. Finally, he stormed forward, crouching and roughly grabbing Dean’s chin, forcing his head up. His voice was cold and biting. "Is it really that hard?"Dean was caught off guard, and the force on his face made him wince in pain. His throat felt as if it might tear apart, and now Shawn's grip on his chin forced him to tilt his head back, aggravating the wounds on his neck. Even the bite marks on his shoulders seemed to intensify in pain, the tension in his muscles worsening it all. He gritted his teeth, but couldn't stop himself from taking a sharp breath, his eyes stinging and reddening, tears quietly slipping down his face."Are you complaining because you're picky? And even crying now?" Shawn looked down at Dean, his voice devoid of any sympathy, laced instead with a hint of mockery. He pressed his thumb hard against
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