“Are you sure you’re not slipping?” Mr. Charlie asked, his voice cool but razor-sharp.

Jack didn’t move, but it took everything in him to keep his hands steady. He forced a smile, the same one he’d perfected over years of lying through his teeth.

“Positive.”

Mr. Charlie stepped forward. One step at a time and then another. Until he was just inches from Jack’s face. Very close to Jack's face. Jack didn’t move. He knew better. Any retreat would be seen as a weakness.

“I’ve built this empire on discipline,” Mr. Charlie said. “Not feelings. Not mercy. And certainly not... confusion.”

His breath smelled like aged bourbon and gunmetal. Jack kept his face still.

“Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Mr. Charlie’s eyes lingered for a second longer, searching his face for something invisible. Then he stepped back.

“Good. Because the day you start hesitating…” He paused, a cruel smile twitching at his mouth. “Is the day I end you myself.”

The words didn’t hit Jack like a threat. They landed like a promise.

Later, in the back garden of the estate, Jack sat alone on the stone bench. Moonlight spilled across the space like milk on cold marble. The night air was thick, scented with damp earth and something faintly metallic.

Rin leaned against a tree trunk, flipping a knife between his fingers in slow, fluid motions.

“You lied to him.”

Jack didn’t look up.

“You covered for Jay,” Rin added, his voice lower now. “Why?”

Silence.

“Why?” Rin pressed again, stepping away from the shadows.

Jack exhaled through his nose. he finally looked up. His eyes looked hollow in the moonlight. “Because I don’t want him dead.”

Rin blinked. “That’s not loyalty, Jack. That’s something else.”

“I know.”

Rin stepped closer, voice softer now, but still firm. “You’re playing a dangerous game. If your father finds out—”

“He’ll kill me,” Jack said, finishing the sentence like it was already engraved on his tombstone. “Yeah. I know.”

Rin crouched in front of him, and then their eyes met. “Then what’s the plan?”

“I don’t have one,” Jack admitted, voice rough.

“Then get one. Fast.” Rin stood again, slipping the knife back into his jacket. “Because of this world?” He gestured to the sky above them. “It eats love for breakfast.”

Jack laughed, the sound bitter and low. “Good thing I haven’t called it love yet.”

Rin looked at him for a long time, then said quietly, “Maybe not out loud. But your eyes have.”

Jack didn’t deny it. Because he couldn’t.

Meanwhile…

In the Vavaporn estate, the atmosphere was dense with unspoken threats.

Jay stood motionless in his father’s private study. The room was all dark wood, heavy leather, and suffocating silence. A single glass of whiskey sat untouched on the desk, beside a cigar slowly burning to ash.

Jay’s arm throbbed under the clean bandages beneath his shirt. The bullet wound was healing, but the pain in his chest—the one he couldn’t explain—only grew heavier.

Across from him, Vavaporn stared. Smoke curled between them, thick as fog.

“What happened that night?” Vavaporn asked, his voice deceptively calm.

Jay’s throat closed up. He blinked slowly. “What night?”

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” his father snapped, voice sharper now.

He tapped a single finger against the desk. “The night Jack Charlie dragged you into that car. You thought I wouldn’t hear about that?”

Jay glanced down, then away. “We ran into trouble. That’s all.”

“Trouble?” Vavaporn scoffed. “You came home drenched in blood. Your shoulder was nearly torn open. And you—”

He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “You disappeared for almost twelve hours. Where did you sleep?”

Jay said nothing.

“You think I won’t find out?” his father continued, voice colder than ice. “You think I haven’t already tried?”

A pause. Then, almost softly: “You took a bullet. But not for yourself, I assume.”

Jay’s pulse kicked up. He didn’t answer.

“Why were you careless, Jay?” Vavaporn asked, standing slowly. “Why would you let anyone close enough to shoot you?”

He began circling the desk, steps deliberate. “Unless… you were too busy protecting someone else.”

Jay’s fists clenched behind his back. This was a trap. He knew it. One wrong word, and Jack would die. Maybe him, too.

“It was an ambush,” Jay said finally, his voice level. “I handled it. That’s all you need to know.”

His father stopped behind him. A shadow stretched across Jay’s feet like a noose.

“I built this empire with blood and instinct,” Vavaporn said lowly. “I can smell a lie before it leaves your mouth. You came back different. Quiet. Distant. You’re hiding something.”

Then, after a beat—

“Is it Jack?”

Jay’s heart slammed once against his ribs.

He kept still. “Why would I protect a Charlie?”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to find out.”

In that moment, Jay’s mind flooded with images—Jack’s breathless laugh in the darkness, the warmth of his hand brushing his, the spark between them. Their lips, the silence, the surrender. The truth.

But none of that mattered now.

If he admitted anything, Jack would be dead by morning.

So Jay turned. Slowly.

Face blank. Eyes hard. Voice steady.

“Dad… you know I hate Jack Charlie.”

Vavaporn squinted, not buying it yet.

Jay pressed on, louder, firmer.

“I’ve hated him since we were kids. I’ve hated the way he talks and the way he thinks he’s smarter than everyone else. The way he walks around like he owns this city.”

He took a slow breath. One more mask on top of the many.

“You raised me to never forget what the Charlies did to us. What Jack’s father did to our blood. You think I’d ever forget that?”

Vavaporn didn’t respond. He just studied him like an animal he didn’t quite trust.

Jay stepped closer, defiant. “We are rivals. Till death do us part. That’s the truth. Jack Charlie is nothing to me. Just a target.”

Silence.

Then—

“And yet…” Vavaporn said, “You took a bullet that night.”

Jay froze. Just for half a second. But it was enough.

“A bullet that should’ve hit me,” he said, coldly now. “I was careless—not because I was saving anyone. I was too busy chasing him down. It won’t happen again.”

He lifted his chin. Met his father’s gaze.

“If I ever get the chance, I’ll kill Jack Charlie myself. You have my word.”

The words came out like knives. Jagged. Bloody. Each syllable tore at something fragile inside him.

Because he remembered the boy in that hidden hallway. The look in his eyes. The quiet surrender of two hearts that weren’t supposed to exist in the same sentence.

But that boy had no place here. Not in this house. Not in front of this man.

Jay turned and walked out. The door closed behind him with a loud click.

It sounded like the beginning of the end.

He walked through the long hallway, each step harder than the last. He had just sworn loyalty. Sworn hatred. Sworn death.

For love.

For Jack.

His heart pounded in his ears.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

1 New Message.

From a name he wasn’t supposed to see.

A name he should’ve erased.

Jack.