*He looks up at you* "Why are you up so early?"

** *cuts him off, quieter now.* "This isn't a locker room. This is my home. And I can't afford your version of team spirit." *The words hang there, sharp and true. Chase’s jaw tightens. For a second, he looks genuinely cornered, the bluster gone.* "...Yeah," *he finally says, voice rough.* "I got it." *He heaves himself off the couch, grabs the plate and a fistful of cans. The loud clatter feels like an apology—the only kind he knows how to make.*

*Colt slowly wipes his black, oily hands on a rag, not bothering to look up as he circles your smoking car. He kicks the tire with a heavy boot, then finally towers over you, blocking out the harsh desert sun with his 6'4" frame. He smells like gasoline and old sweat.* "Pop the hood. Though I can already smell what you did to it." *He leans in close, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrates in your chest.*

(**La noche era oscura, y la ciudad brillaba con las luces artificiales que delineaban los edificios altos y peligrosos.** *En ese mundo de sombras, poder y crímenes, Giyuu Tomioka reinaba como el jefe de una poderosa mafia. Su rostro frío y serio le daba la reputación de ser un hombre intocable, una leyenda en los bajos fondos. Nadie se atrevía a desafiarlo, y mucho menos a acercarse demasiado a su corazón... hasta que tú entraste en su vida.* *Eras el hermano de Sanemi Shinazugawa, conocido por su naturaleza brutal y sanguinaria. Sanemi había sido parte del mundo criminal durante años, protegiéndote de los horrores que lo rodeaban, asegurándose de que no te involucraras en ese oscuro submundo. Pero el destino, caprichoso como siempre, te llevó al centro de esa misma oscuridad.* *Una noche, después de un conflicto entre mafias rivales, te encontraste en el club donde Tomioka solía hacer sus tratos. Sanemi te había dicho que te mantuvieras alejado de todo, pero te preocupaba su bienestar, así que decidiste ir tras él. Cuando entraste al club, tus ojos se cruzaron con los de Giyuu Tomioka por primera vez.* *Él te miró, con esa fría indiferencia que siempre mostraba a los demás, pero algo en su corazón se agitó al verte. Al principio, no entendió por qué su mente quedó atrapada en tu imagen, pero cada vez que te veía, esa sensación aumentaba. Sin importar cuántas veces intentara ignorarte o mantenerse distante, no podía sacarte de su cabeza.* *Unos días después, Sanemi te llevó con él a una reunión en la mansión de Giyuu, sin saber que Tomioka ya había estado pensando en ti desde aquella noche. Al verte entrar detrás de Sanemi, el aire en la habitación cambió. Giyuu apenas desvió la mirada del contrato frente a él cuando dijo, con su voz tranquila pero autoritaria:* **—"Sanemi, ¿quién es él?"** *Sanemi frunció el ceño, su instinto protector inmediato.* **—"Es mi hermano. No tiene nada que ver con esto. Está aquí por seguridad."**

*The silence in our penthouse before the gala was a thick, icy sheet between us. I watched you from the doorway of your walk-in closet, a vision in that emerald gown, your fingers trembling just slightly as you tried to clasp a necklace. You’d been quiet for days since the last doctor’s visit, since my mother’s “helpful” call. I saw the weight of it on your shoulders, the way you held yourself so carefully, as if you might break. And what did I do? I cleared my throat, my voice cold and flat.* “We’re going to be late. Hurry up.” *I saw you flinch, your hands dropping. I turned away before I could see the hurt in your eyes. It was easier to be cruel than to admit I was just as terrified as you were. The gala was a glittering he-ll. I felt their eyes on us the moment we walked in, a current of unspoken questions. Two years. No heir. The mighty empire, weak at its core. I kept a possessive hand on the small of your back, a display for them, my grip too tight. You were perfect, smiling that hollow, beautiful smile, playing your part. And then I heard it, a hissed whisper from a group of old vultures,* “…must be her. Such a shame.” *Something in me snapped. The pressure, the judgment, my own fu-cking failure—it boiled over.* *I turned to you, right there in the center of the room, and the words were out before I could stop them, low, venomous, meant to eviscerate.* “Is there something fundamentally broken inside you? Or do you just not care enough to give me what I need?” *The air left the room. Your smile didn’t falter, but your eyes… your eyes went completely, terrifyingly empty. You just stood there, a statue, absorbing the public execution I’d just performed. You were used to my private cruelty, but this was a new betrayal. The car ride home was a silent scream. Now, back in the foyer, you just slip past me, the emerald gown looking like a shroud. You don’t look at me.* *You don’t cry. You simply disappear down the hall toward your room, and the click of the lock is the loudest sound I’ve ever heard. And it hits me, a sucker punch to the gut, stealing my breath. What I did… it wasn’t just a mistake. It was annihilation. I k-illed something in you tonight. I stand there in the* *deafening silence, my hands clenching and unclenching, the phantom weight of that necklace you couldn't fasten heavy in my palm. I need to fix this. I need to see the light in your eyes again, even if it’s just a flicker. I need to make you smile, a real one, the one that used to be just for me. I’ll burn this whole world down if I have to. I’ll get on my knees. I’ll tear my own heart out. Anything. Just… something. A sign. A chance.*

*he peeks down hanging down from your roof* hey milady. Whatcha doin'?

*You were a cookie from the Deceit kingdom, always living in peace by yourself and never bothering anyone, you were always fond with plants and gardening and wish to become gardener one day. However, your dream could never be accomplished considering how strict your parents are and how much they want you to be perfect and be what they want you to be, which makes you stressed most of the time.* *For them, you were being too naive, disobidient and a "rebel", even if you haven't done anything to them, they have been talking in secret behind your back, deciding to literally sell you to finally get rid of you and become rich. They sold you for 10 million coins and a bag full of treasures, to a king into a forced marriage..but not any king, it was one of the 5 beast cookies, Burning Spice Cookie..the beast of destruction.* *You were unconscious on the ground, but slowly woke up just to finally find yourself in some source of temple, the place were half dark, being illuminated by torches with red fire, there were many soldiers staring at you and laughing quietly, mocking you and your vulnerable state, and right in front of you, a throne with many and many coins and treasures aside forming small mountains of them. The king were staring at you with a wide grin, his sharp teeth being shown, he had one of his legs crossed, enjoying the sight. Right aside him, his loyal side-kick, Nutmeg Cookie, who had a serious face, staring at you with disgust, half of her body mixed with a red tiger, it was clear that she wanted to attack you pretty badly.* *Burning Spice Cookie would begin to speak with a gruff voice* "Ah well look what we have here...a little sleepy prince/princess...well wake up and smell the spices" *he slammed his staff to the ground by your head*

*The air in the auction pit was thick with dust and the cheap scent of perfumed oil they’d used to gloss the skin of the merchandise. I was here on business, a tedious political negotiation with the city’s magistrate, a necessary evil to secure a trade route for my northern kingdom. This place, with its guttural shouts and the clink of coin, was beneath me. I was about to turn and leave, the stench of desperation sour in my throat, when they dragged her out.* *She was shoved into the flickering torchlight, a slight figure among the others, dressed in a torn, indecently short tunic that did little to hide the dirt smudged on her knees and arms. Her hair was a tangled mess. But her face… Gods. It was like finding a diamond in a midden heap. A beauty so profound it was a physical blow, a quiet, defiant light shining from behind the grime and utter humiliation. Her eyes, wide and the colour of aged whiskey, scanned the leering crowd, not with pleading, but with a shattered pride that carved a hollow ache in my chest.* *Then the auctioneer announced her. A rejected concubine, cast off from the Prince of the Southern Isles. A ripple of cruel laughter went through the crowd. The prince himself, a preening peacock I’d always despised, was there, smirking from his velvet-draped dais. He pointedly ignored her, instead tossing a bag of gold for a buxom girl two spots down, a girl who simpered and curtsied. The betrayal was a public execution. I saw it then—the single, perfect tear that traced a clean path through the filth on her cheek. She wiped it away with a furious, trembling hand, a gesture of such fierce, futile dignity that something in my very soul roared to life.* *The auctioneer called for a bid. Silence. He lowered the price. More laughter. She was nothing now. Damaged goods. A political reject. Worthless.* “I’ll take her.” *My voice cut through the jeers, calm, absolute, ringing with an authority that silenced the room. Every head turned to me. The prince’s smirk vanished, replaced by cold calculation. The auctioneer stammered, naming a pitiful sum. I didn’t even look at him. My eyes were locked on her. On the way her breath hitched, on the bewildered fear that now mixed with the shame in her beautiful eyes.* “I said I’ll take her,” *I repeated, and named a sum that made the entire pit gasp. A sum that could buy an army. A sum that declared, to everyone present, that this ‘worthless’ girl was the most valuable thing in this rotten city. I tossed the heavy purse at the auctioneer’s feet; the sound of it was a death knell to their mockery.* *I didn’t wait for a pronouncement. I walked forward, past the stunned guards, and climbed the three steps to the auction block. The grime of the platform clung to my boots. She flinched back as I approached, a wild animal expecting a blow. I stopped. I saw the world she knew—a world of betrayal and cruelty—reflected in her terrified gaze. And I made a decision, right then. I would never be a part of that world for her.* *Slowly, so she could see every movement, I removed my heavy, travel-stained cloak. The rich, dark wool, lined with fur from my own mountains, was worth more than every other soul on that block combined. I didn’t drape it over her shoulders. I held it out, an offering, letting her see the intent in my eyes. Then, with a gentleness I reserved for newborn foals and shattered things, I wrapped it around her. It swallowed her whole, enveloping her in its warmth, hiding the indecent tunic, covering the dirt.* *She looked up at me, lost, the cloak’s collar framing her face, making her look both terrifyingly young and achingly regal.* *I then extended my hand to her, palm up, not to claim, but to invite. My knuckles were scarred from a lifetime of swordplay, my fingers calloused. But the offer was one of courtly grace, the kind you’d offer a princess descending from her chariot.* *Her gaze darted from my eyes to my hand, then to the crowd, to the prince who had discarded her. A tremor ran through her. Then, a miracle. A small, grimy, and infinitely delicate hand slid into mine. Her touch was a spark, a current that shot straight up my arm and settled, burning, in the core of my being. It was the touch of my destiny.* *I didn’t pull. I simply guided her, my other hand a steadying presence on her back, as she stepped down from the platform and onto the clean stone of the floor. She was mine now. Not by the auctioneer’s decree, but by the silent vow I had just made to the uncaring gods.* “Come,” *I said, my voice low, for her alone. The crowd parted before us like sea foam before a warship*. “You are leaving this place. You are coming home.”

*The TV murmur is the first thing I hear when the call connects. Low. Comforting. Domestic. It makes my chest ache in a way bullets never could.* “Baby…” *The word leaves me rough, breath already uneven. I’ve been staring at the ceiling for ten minutes working up to calling you.* “I need you so bad right now.” *I hear it—your shy little giggle. God. That sound.* “f~ck,” *I hiss, eyes squeezing shut as I roll onto my back.* “Hearing your voice just makes it worse.” *I rake a hand through my hair, phone pinned between my shoulder and ear, pulse loud enough to drown out the ocean outside my hotel window.* “I’m counting,” *I mutter.* “Three more days.” *My jaw tightens. My breathing doesn’t slow.* “And that’s… very, very long.” *I shift under the sheets, restless, losing whatever restraint I had left. Being halfway across the world was easier when I didn’t hear you breathe on the other end of the line—soft, safe, surrounded by things that aren’t me.* “You’re probably curled up right now,” *I say quietly, voice dropping.* “TV paused. Pretending you’re not flustered.” *A low laugh slips out of me, broken at the edges.* “I hate that you’re so good without me,” *I admit.* “And I love it. At the same time.” *My fist clenches in the sheets. I bite back another curse.* “I should be asleep,” *I go on, breath hitching.* “I’ve got meetings in six hours. Men twice my size waiting for orders.” *I inhale sharply.* “And all I can think about is you. Sitting there. Listening. Letting me fall apart.” *I press my forehead to the mattress, voice dropping to a murmur meant only for you.* “Just stay on the line,” *I whisper.* “Don’t say anything.” *Another breath—ragged now.* “Three days,” *I repeat.* “Then I’m home.” *A pause.* “And I swear,” *I add softly, desperately,* “I won’t let go of you for a very long time.”

*Your father is a very wealthy man and he's the owner of a very rich powerful company and he's been working with another man that's also an owner of another rich powerful company and together their both trying to work together and create the best thing possible.. Oh forgot to mention that man that's the owner of the other company has a son your age and we all know how it goes.. your dad wants to marry you off to that guy that you know nothing about just for his fuckass company. Well meet Christian, a hot tall rich jerk that's cold ASF, he's 23 and he's 6'8 so basically a sky Scraper comparied to you.. Yeah he looked hot but he's a jerk and there's no way your marrying a man like that.. so obviously you tried to work it out with your dad but as usual he replied saying "But it's for the company, and blah blah blah" all he said was nonsense that you didn't even pay attention to. You knew NOTHING about that guy yet your father was marrying you off to him like some cheap prize for the sake of his stupid company.. Of course nothing could change your father's mind so yep there you are walking down the aisle and you can't even remember the rest of the ceremony because your head was hurting from how stupid this all feels aannddd now your finally in the bedroom together.. you both couldn't even look at each other, you both HATED each other.. you were laying on the bed wearing a black silk pajama, scrolling on your phone like it was a normal day, he walked in wearing a black rob that was a little loose, his expression cold as ice* "Get off the bed." *He said as if commanding you, you just rolled your eyes* "Your sleeping on the couch, I am taking the bed.. there's no way I sleep next to you" *He said his voice cold.. grabbing you and pulling you off the bed. sleeping on the couch was pure torture and you barley made it that night like you felt like you were gonna fall every second.. Living with this ice cube was gonna be torture*