Ben noticed Dean's reaction and flashed a warm smile, extending his hand toward him. "Hello, Dean, I’m Benjamin Winston."Dean’s body stiffened slightly, a wave of unfamiliarity and unease washing over him, making it feel like he could hardly breathe. His eyes instinctively flickered over Ben, but then quickly dropped to the floor as he struggled to figure out how to respond. The memories of the past surged within him, and he couldn’t help but question if he was truly ready to face these people. Though he tried to steady his breathing, a sharp sense of caution kept prickling at him, urging him to be on guard.Shawn seemed to notice Dean’s hesitation, his brow furrowing as his voice dropped to a low, impatient tone. “What are you doing? Throwing a tantrum? You’d better not play games in front of Uncle Ben.”There was an undeniable sense of command in Shawn’s voice that made Dean tense up. He forced himself to suppress the rising disgust and looked between Ben and Shawn, a wave of confu
Dean furrowed his brows, his emotions growing more complex. "Are you really going to talk badly about her in front of her own brother? And not just any brother—her twin, someone who shares the same face as her." He did his best to suppress the anger bubbling up inside him, his voice laced with warning and discontent.Ted shrugged dismissively, continuing without a hint of concern. "This isn't bad-mouthing, it's just the truth as I see it. Even if you two are twins with the same face... wait, no, not the same. Trust me." Ted glanced at Dean, sizing him up, as if comparing him to someone from his past before continuing."She saved the boss once, and from that moment, he saw her as his savior. Then she kept running away and coming back, running away and coming back. It’s so obvious, playing hard to get," Ted said, his tone dripping with mockery. "Totally unlike you. I’ve seen you argue back, resist, even run off through that forest. You still haven’t accepted my boss, and I respect that.
A flicker of hesitation passed through Dean’s eyes. He opened his mouth slightly, then, with a note of quiet hope, he asked, "Is that possible?" His tone carried a subtle yearning, as though even this simple request might bring him a moment of warmth.Shawn fell silent for a moment, like pondering something. Finally, he spoke, his voice laced with an enigmatic tone. "The party tonight, many representatives from various gangs will be attending." There was a mysterious quality to his words as if everything about the evening held connections to some unknown matters.Dean’s hope flared up in an instant upon hearing Shawn’s words, but just as he was about to let a smile form, Shawn’s next sentence hit him like a bucket of cold water, dousing all his expectations. "Unfortunately, neither the Dragon Gang nor the Cobra Gang will be attending. Looks like you won’t be seeing your Damon Greyson or Chen Dankworth after all. What a shame," Shawn said, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his
He muttered softly to himself, "Yes, Dr. Parker... Dr. Parker." The thought seemed to bring a glimmer of hope, a small shift in his heart. Perhaps Dr. Parker’s hypnosis session could offer him a new kind of change. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the path that would lead him out of this suffocating situation.This treatment was different from the previous one. It wasn’t taking place in his own room, but in a place he had carefully selected. Dean felt a twinge of hesitation; his choice wasn’t driven solely by comfort, instead it was via a more personal motive. He wanted to speak with Dr. Parker, and this place—Shawn’s room—was the most secluded and hidden in his mind. It was the perfect place to have the conversation he had been avoiding.Though this room was usually off-limits to everyone plus Shawn wasn’t here today, Dean had more than enough time to process his thoughts. He wasn’t bound by the usual rules this time; in fact, he felt a hint of selfishness. He knew he needed the quie
"Thank you, Dad, thank you, Mom!" The twin siblings said in unison, their voices bright and sweet, full of the innocent joy and carefree nature only children possess. They huddled close together, their small bodies enveloped by the warmth and love of their parents.Dean watched them, a wave of unfamiliar emotion rising within him. He remembered once being like these children, living carefree days surrounded by the love and warmth of his parents. The scene before him now brought an unexpected sense of belonging and affection, as if he were witnessing a part of his own past that had long been buried.After the two children blew out the candles on the birthday cake, they turned and offered the slices to their parents. The boy, with a serious expression, said, "You should eat first, Dad and Mom!" The girl smiled and nodded, her eyes full of love and respect for her parents.The mother looked at the two children, her eyes filled with pride. She smiled gently and said, “Our Sandra and Dean
"I can't... I can't watch this anymore..." Dean murmured, tears silently slipping down his face. A wave of indescribable pain and fury surged within him. He knew, deep down, that he could never escape—his past wounds, the fear he had once endured, would follow him for the rest of his life.However, when he saw the aftermath, his sadness transformed into rage. His parents—those who had once always cared for and protected them—had become so cold, so distant. Ever since the incident, little Dean’s life changed, as though he had been cast from paradise into an abyss. They hadn’t stepped forward to protect their child; instead, they had made the unforgivable choice of betrayal."How could this...?" Dean could hardly catch his breath. For money, his parents had chosen to sell their conscience, their hands stained with filthy transactions. "How could they... abandon their own child for money?" His tears, once again, blurred his vision, as the weight of this betrayal drowned him in despair.T
Just as he clung desperately to the faintest glimmer of hope in the final moments, a sudden, crisp knock echoed from the door. The sound shattered the oppressive stillness of the room, sending Dean’s heart into a wild, pounding rhythm.He hurried toward the door, his steps urgent and almost frantic, driven by an uncontrollable need to confront whatever lay on the other side. A flicker of disbelief lingered in his mind—could it be the salvation he so desperately sought, waiting just beyond this threshold?As the door swung open, there stood Ted, his face adorned with that familiar nonchalant, almost indifferent expression. Dean’s eyes locked onto him, a nervous tension gripping his every muscle. He clung to the faintest thread of hope, his voice trembling ever so slightly as he spoke. “We don’t have to go to the party, right?” His question carried a fragile optimism as if the salvation he had been yearning for might finally arrive at this very moment, hanging on the next words to fall
Dean slowly opened his eyes, his mind clouded as if submerged in a dense fog. He looked around, realizing he was lying in an unfamiliar room. Unlike a hotel, the space was simple yet elegant, but more like a cozy bedroom in a private home. The wooden furniture carried a slightly aged feel, but it was well-kept and comfortable. A few landscape paintings on the walls added a touch of liveliness to the otherwise tranquil atmosphere. A faint scent of perfume lingered in the air, mixed with the heavier, more masculine scent of cologne. It made Dean feel uneasy, a strange sense of discomfort creeping through him. He blinked rapidly, struggling to clear his foggy mind and make sense of his surroundings. "Where am I?" Dean's voice was weak as he pushed himself up, his body trembling with the lingering effects of the drug, making his movements sluggish and uncoordinated. He tried to piece together the fragments of what had happened before—Shawn giving him that drink, the loss of consciousness
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