 
Bovian Image

By

Suilan Lee

Bovian Image

Published on Smashwords by Suilan Lee

Copyright © 2012 Suilan Lee

Re-edited July 2016

Cover Art by Liang Woo

Smashwords License Statement

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter One

Hong Kong

SarEr watched the ball sail into the basket with a smile. It bounced to the tarmac and on to the grass. His best friend raised his arms up in victory.

"Ten to five, I win again," Zun Lee announced.

SarEr made a face as he picked the ball and threw it back to Zun.

"It doesn't matter."

SarEr wiped sweat of his forehead with his arm.

"Oh yes it does."

Zun clutched the ball against his hip, swiping his free hand over his forehead to stop the sweat dripping into his eyes. His long hair was wet, his sleek muscles glistening since he'd removed his t-shirt. SarEr couldn't help but admire Zun's body. He was prime billboard material.

SarEr forced his gaze away from his best friend's gorgeous body. As handsome as Zun was, the man was straighter than a pin. His thoughts were better off trying to figure out why Zun thought they were in a contest.

Zun was turning their daily basketball routine into a pissing match.

A short glance at Zun's set jaw and he cursed under his breath. SarEr was afraid to ask because this free time was a gift from his father, and the only time he could spent with Zun without bodyguards hounding him. He couldn't afford to fight with Zun right now.

"Do you think I'll ever get out of here?" Zun asked suddenly, his gaze fixed on the park entrance and the town beyond.

The basketball court was in a public park that the community used for relaxation. SarEr's father owned the land and the real estate surrounding the area. Zun's family owned a hair salon in the small town where they also lived in an apartment above the shop. Zun was always talking about making it to the big city and owning a large unisex salon.

"Of course you will," SarEr said.

"I hope you're not saying that because it's what I want to hear."

Zun narrowed his dark gaze at him, no doubt judging the sincerity in SarEr's answer. They'd been best friends for a long time, and Zun always caught him in a lie.

"I mean it, Zun," SarEr said.

Zun was too ambitious to remain in such a small town.

"Good," Zun said, tossing the ball back to him. He went to pick up his t-shirt and started walking out of the park. "Come on, I'll treat you to a cold soda."

SarEr bounced the ball on the tarmac path as he followed Zun. They left the park, walking at a sedate pace. A cool breeze ruffled the tall trees along their path to the main street, drying their sweat. Zun kicked a stone and reached up to tug a hanging tree branch before they crossed the street. SarEr marveled at his best friend's height. He would never reach that branch were he to try. He was only five foot eight inches tall while Zun was six foot two.

"Did you hear what I said?" Zun interrupted his thoughts.

"What did you say?" SarEr asked.

"I need a good plan. My family is depending on me. My mother keeps working overtime. I hate seeing her struggling to make ends meet."

Zun's mother was a sweet petite woman who worked too hard to give her son and daughter a good life. What SarEr admired most about her was the fact that she never complained. The exhaustion and worry she went through never surfaced when she was with her children. Instead, she showered her children with hugs, kisses and comforting words. She'd even included him in to her circle, and for a guy who didn't have a mother, he often found her attention very endearing. He could understand Zun's determination to get her a better life.

"You keep disappearing on me," Zun said again. "What are you thinking about?"

SarEr realized that they'd walked a while in silence. They were almost near the main town now. Shops were open, restaurants serving tea to customers on veranda tables. There was only one bank and post office in the small town.

"Nothing important," SarEr said with a short smile. "Is Mei at the salon today?"

"Nope, not today," Zun said. "She's supposedly doing a project in school."

Zun suspicious tone made SarEr chuckle.

"Why don't you believe her?"

"I think she has a boyfriend."

Zun was protective of Mei. Everyone in town knew it. SarEr also knew that Mei found that protective streak annoying. She'd probably lied about where she was going. He hid a smile as Zun continued.

"Today is Saturday, you know, who goes to school on a Saturday when they don't have to go."

"Contrary to you and I, there are people who like school," SarEr teased. They were out of school, but before graduation, school had felt like a burden to both of them.

Zun growled and pushed him playfully.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying, give your sister a break," SarEr said.

"Do you like her?"

SarEr sighed.

He'd yet to tell Zun his secret. He didn't know how to. In a way, he feared that it might interfere with their friendship.

"Are you going to punch me if I say yes?"

"Hell, yes," Zun said.

"In that case, no," SarEr said with a wide grin.

SarEr stepped off the curb and bounced the ball on the tarmac. He was going to have to tell Zun that he was gay one of these days.

They walked down the street, passing the butchery, green grocers, and a supermarket. There was a teahouse where the old men liked to meet and play mahjong. Zun nodded at a man seated on a table outside the teahouse, his beat up old hat pulled down over his eyes.

"Old man Yao is always playing alone. What a strange man."

"Maybe not so strange," SarEr said. "Sometimes it's better to spend time alone."

Zun chuckled and SarEr frowned.

"What?"

"You're the strange one, SarEr."

Zun slowed down when they reached the salon.

"Alone is never better. Being human automatically makes you crave company. It's part of our genetic makeup."

A lavish sign on the windows showed off the salon's name. The Zheng Ren Salon was a neat little place that acted as both a barbershop and beauty salon. As Zun pulled the doors open, SarEr braced himself to meet the town gossips who always sat at the reception area talking to Xiao Wei.

"Mum, I'm back," Zun said to his mother.

Xiao Wei was busy setting rollers on a young woman's hair. She glanced up and smiled at both of them.

"Oh good, hello SarEr," Xiao Wei greeted.

"Hello, Miss Xiao Wei." SarEr returned her smile and winked at her. "Need help?"

"You're a funny one." Xiao Wei laughed. "Did you have a good game? I hope Zun didn't beat you too badly."

"I trounced him." Zun slumped into a low chair and closed his eyes. "He barely gave me a work out."

"Hey," SarEr protested, dropping the basketball on Zun's lap. "Stop being mean to me. I'll beat you next time. I was being nice today."

"You say that each time," Zun said lazily.

SarEr was about to join Zun on the next chair when Xiao Wei made a whistling sound. She nodded to the windows that showed off the front street when he glanced at her. His heart sunk at the sight of three black Mercedes cars parked at the front. Ten men all dressed in black suits poured out of the cars and started for the salon.

SarEr clenched his jaw as the door opened and a man with a clean-shaven head walked in. The women seated at the receptionist area started whispering to each other. The bald man ignored everyone in the room and came to stand in front of SarEr.

What was Han doing here?

The room was quiet, no one moved.

SarEr wanted to rant and rave at the intrusion but this was not the place to make a scene.

"Young Master you have to come with us," Han said in a quiet tone.

He might have been quiet, but his tone was full of authority. SarEr knew that his words were an order from his father.

"I still have time," SarEr said.

Zun who'd been relaxed in the chair stood up so that he was beside SarEr making them a united front. Han noticed but he kept his gaze on SarEr.

"What's happened?" SarEr asked.

"I can't say, Young Master, please come with me."

The tone hadn't changed. Han wasn't leaving without him. SarEr looked out again, frowning at the number of men waiting for him. They were quite capable of carrying him out. SarEr met Zun's gaze unable to hide his frustration. He glanced at Xiao Wei. She was clearly uneasy about the situation, even though she pretended to keep curling her customer's hair.

SarEr gave in with a simple nod, and Han moved to let him pass.

"See you later, SarEr," Zun said.

SarEr nodded but didn't look back. Outside, he walked to the car in the middle. Han opened the back passenger door and waited for him to enter. The rest of the men distributed themselves in the remaining cars.

***

"That poor boy," Xiao Wei said into the silence that filled the salon. "Master Nan is stifling him."

Zun watched the cars roll away and shook his head. That look on SarEr's face got him each time. He hated seeing it, especially when he knew that SarEr had been trying to make him feel better at the court today.

"He's happiest here," Zun said to his mother.

"There's nothing we can do, Zun," Xiao Wei soothed. "He is the master's son, who knows what the reasons are."

"He'll run away if it keeps up." Zun shook his head at the thought of SarEr leaving him alone in this town.

"Don't let it get to you," Xiao Wei advised.

Zun couldn't help thinking about it. SarEr's expression spelled brewing rebellion. He was sure a fight would be coming soon.

Zun sunk back into his chair with a loud a sigh.

He'd met SarEr during their first year at high school. He remembered watching the Nan Family's familiar black Mercedes car complete with a bodyguard dropping SarEr off at school.

Those days he'd hated SarEr on principle. SarEr's attitude hadn't helped the situation either. SarEr tended to get violent and bad tempered when he was nervous and before Zun had known that, they'd fought every day.

Zun spent most of that first year accusing SarEr of being a spoiled brat. They fought bitterly and their mutual hatred for each other became a part of school gossip. There was no one who could make peace between them. SarEr refused to allow his father to deal with Zun out of pride. The teachers opted to keep their interaction to a bare minimum if ever. They'd had different classes at all times, until the day that started their friendship came.

SarEr had been talking with a group of classmates during recess in the courtyard at school. Zun, hating how relaxed and entitled SarEr looked, had started walking toward the punk, only to stop when he noticed a man approaching SarEr with a strange expression. The man had been in an impeccable grey suit, but something about him had felt so wrong. A second later, Zun realized that the man held a gun in his hand. Before Zun could react or say anything, the man trained the gun on SarEr.

The boys with SarEr scrambled away, fear in their eyes the minute they realized what was going on. SarEr, however, remained where he was, facing his attacker bravely. Zun would never forget what SarEr told that man.

"Will it make you feel better to pull the trigger?" SarEr had said it with such a calm, cold voice. It had made Zun wonder what kind of person SarEr was to be so calm before death. Worry had prompted him to move beside SarEr.

"Aren't you going to run, Zun?" SarEr asked.

"No." Zun stood firm, his gaze on the man who was now wavering in his intentions. "Sir, if you kill him, you're going to have to kill me too, since I'll be the witness."

The comment made SarEr smile, a small smile, but the first he'd ever managed to get out of SarEr. It was strange thinking about it. He hadn't been afraid of the man holding a gun at them. SarEr's blasé attitude probably had something to do with his courage, but, he seriously wondered what would have happened if SarEr's bodyguards hadn't swarmed into the courtyard to save them.

"You've got guts, Lee," SarEr said, after the guards took their attacker away. "You're either stupid or you have a death wish."

"What do you think?" Zun asked, studying the punk he'd been pounding on for most of the year.

"You're stupid," SarEr said with a small shrug that had them both laughing like maniacs.

Their friendship started that day.

Five years later, they were still the best of friends. SarEr was now twenty years old and Zun worried he was going to get in a car one of these days and drive to the airport. Either that or SarEr's father was going to ship him abroad to some prestigious college.

_Which was going to leave him alone here_ , Zun sighed and shifted his attention to his mother.

She was finished with the rollers and was now rinsing the sink she'd used while her client was under the dryer. She hummed as she cleaned and Zun wondered why the woman never seemed short of good moods.

His yearning to get her a better life roared to life and Zun stood up, moving to where she was about to start running water to rinse the soap.

"I'll do that, mum. You sit and rest."

Zun took the brush she was using and moved her out of the way. Xiao Wei smiled and took the seat he'd vacated. As he rinsed the sink, he decided SarEr wasn't going to leave him behind. He was getting out of this town and making something of himself.

***

SarEr sat in the back of the black Mercedes counting back from a hundred. His temper was raging and the need to lash out was strong. He hated it when his father pulled him back home this way. Treating him like a child when he clearly wasn't. Humiliating him in front of all those people, what was the need for such a show of power? One bodyguard would have been fine.

_Ten men, c_ losing his eyes, SarEr took in a deep breath and restarted his counting.

The car made a sharp turn throwing him against the door. He grabbed the door handle to keep steady. The fact that he needed to hold on at all made him worry. The threat had to be real this time. They were driving fast to get to safety within the estate.

He didn't care though. All he knew was that they had pulled him back from a place he enjoyed. Being with Zun and Xiao Wei was like going to paradise. He glared at the approaching high black gates. Five armed men stood guard, their eyes watchful. The moment they saw the entourage of cars, the black gates slid open smoothly to reveal pristine manicured grounds.

When he'd been five years old, he'd looked forward to coming back home each time his father would take him out on an outing or even on a short walk in town. His mother had been alive then, and the excitement of telling her everything he'd seen had been a highlight in his life. She'd loved laughing at his stories. The sound of her laugh still lingered in his memories: infectious and lively. That excited feeling was gone now.

An image of the slender, elegant Ariel Nan flitted into his memory and SarEr shook his head to send it away. He really didn't want to think about his mother. A very dark void filled his heart where she belonged. All he remembered was one day she'd been planning a birthday party for him and the next he'd been standing beside his father at her funeral holding her picture. He scowled as a fresh wave of grief hit him.

The Nan Estate was no longer a home but a gilded prison to him, designed to keep everyone out as much as keep those inside in. Built on ten acres of land on the outskirts of the little rental city, the westernized mansion was by the beach and equipped with all the modern security gadgets that technology could offer in this century. As though the master of the estate didn't trust the technology, he'd posted security men on every inch of the estate to guard the gates and the house.

SarEr always felt like he was walking through a prison instead of his home. His father's paranoia seemed to have escalated after his mother's death. An unknown assailant had shot and killed Ariel Nan in their house. After her funeral, Choi Yang Nan had turned the estate into a fort.

The black Mercedes drove up to the main entrance and stopped by the stairs. A guard immediately opened the door for SarEr and he got out with a grim expression. There was no point asking why he was home. Obviously, someone had rung in another death threat.

_The story of his life_ , he scoffed.

He raced up the steps and entered the already open front door. The butler, who was also another bodyguard, indicated the office his father used on the ground floor. SarEr headed for the double doors with determination, not bothering to knock. He pushed the doors open with restrained violence.

Three men sat around his father's desk in deep discussion. They all glanced up at him when he walked in. SarEr kept his gaze firmly on his father's unaffected one.

"Leave us," SarEr said to the three men.

Now that he was here, his blood pressure was hitting dangerous heights. He wanted a free life, one not tied down by his relationship to his father.

The men glanced back at his father for confirmation. Choi Yang nodded in agreement and the men got up and left the room without another word making sure to close the doors. SarEr glared at his father, not moving to take a seat afraid that if he moved even an inch he might start ranting wildly.

"Are you going to spend every day of your life angry with me, SarEr?" Choi Yang asked, his tone gentle.

His father's gentle tone startled him. He hadn't heard it in ages.

SarEr scowled because he didn't want his anger diluted. He needed a shouting match. His father's controlling antics couldn't continue. He was twenty years old, and life had to be more than death threats and bodyguards.

"Take it away," SarEr said. "Stop having me watched and followed. I really hate it. I'm not a child anymore."

Choi Yang leaned back in his chair and shook his head.

"No."

"Father, you have to free me sometime. I can't live like this forever," SarEr said frustrated by his father's continued calm composure. He was starting to feel like an idiot with all the anger boiling inside him. "Stop punishing me."

"I am not punishing you. I'm keeping you safe. People want to hurt you to get to me, and I won't allow it. Besides, look at you right now. How can you tell me you're not a child when you look like that?"

SarEr glanced down at his shorts and sleeveless t-shirt. He was in disarray, sweaty and his clothes made him look like a teenager.

"I was playing basketball with Zun. I hope you're not taking that away. You allowed it."

SarEr shook his head unable to understand why he had to make sacrifices for the sake of Nan Enterprises.

"I won't, but you have to take the security. Remember, give and take, SarEr. That is how we compromise. You need to keep your end of the bargain." Choi Yang swung his chair gently from side to side. "You're important to me, I can't lose you."

"I don't want to live like this anymore," SarEr protested.

_Damn his father and his deals: compromise, compromise_ , he sighed.

SarEr didn't want to compromise anymore. That feeling of being in prison returned and he let out a harsh breath hoping for salvation. Suddenly, he didn't care who wanted him dead. If they were going to try to kill him then he was giving them permission. He would do anything to get away from living like this.

"You are who you are, SarEr, you can't escape it no matter where you go. Isn't that why you got those tattoos on your wrists? You've even branded yourself that you're my son," Choi Yang said. "Accept it and stop fighting. This will all end up being yours anyway, you should start preparing for it."

Turning his wrists over, SarEr stared at the tattoos on his inner wrists. The kanji symbols of his name and his father's name. His father had been furious with him when he got them. It had been a rebellion of sorts after evading yet another kidnap attempt. His father had called it a crime against his body. Looking at his father now and that stable firm gaze, he understood one thing. No matter how much he raged or yelled, the bodyguards would remain, they would even increase.

With a suffering sigh, SarEr capitulated.

"What happened this time?" he asked with resignation.

He wasn't even sure he wanted to know. He already knew the drill. Having too much money and power in the right places also meant carrying around burdens of unsatisfied business partners, jealous people and sick psychos who just wanted to kidnap for money.

"Someone wants me to stop looking into your mother's death. The detectives in charge are both dead. They were found murdered two hours ago." Choi Yang shook his head. "I think someone close to us is behind it all. The only people who knew how close we're getting are within the estate."

SarEr winced. His mother's murder remained unsolved. His father kept overturning stones that sometimes meant threats to stop looking into the murder. He wished his father would stop looking into it at all. It would be worse if he lost his father too.

But how could he tell Choi Yang that?

His mother deserved justice.

SarEr swallowed hard.

"Do you have a suspect?"

"I got an anonymous call thirty minutes ago warning me to stop looking into your mom's death. Han and his team are tracing the call, but so far, nothing has turned up. The entire estate is under lockdown. Whoever it is knows my private number and the progress the two detectives have made. I'm afraid this puts you in danger as well. Your MIT acceptance letter arrived. I gave it to Han. Hopefully you'll be safer in college away from the estate."

SarEr felt weak.

He always tried not to ask about the details, because when he did, the answers made him angry. He didn't want to imagine that someone he knew had killed his mother. Cursing under his breath, he wiped a trembling hand down his face. How he hated the reality of dealing with his mother's murder. It hurt to think about her. It hurt more to watch his father try to get justice for her.

"I'll be in my rooms."

"Don't leave the estate, SarEr. Don't give Han a hard time today," Choi Yang warned.

SarEr glanced at his father for a moment, noting the frown on the older man's forehead. His father was a handsome man in his mid-forties. He had an arrogant tilt to his chin and his eyes were sharp behind the reading glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He wore his hair long, and in a tight ponytail at the back of his head. SarEr remembered playing with his father's hair when he'd been young and Choi Yang had carried him. Those days his father's smile had come readily, not now though. His father's lips were always set in a grim line.

SarEr missed his father's smile as much as he missed his mother's laugh. Judging from recent events, he doubted he was going to be seeing his father's smile any time soon. He bowed his head slightly to his father and headed to the door.

_So much for his anger_ , he thought.

He'd get a shower and go to sleep, tomorrow he had two hours with Zun, he could hold on until then. Beyond that, he could only hope leaving for college would take away all these problems.

***

Chapter Two

"I am tired of trying to make you understand, Michael," Mika Lucianne said in exasperation.

She stared at the designs laid out on the worktable in her office.

"Haute Couture will not increase Niad Fashion's profits. I need you to design clothes for the fall ready-to-wear line. Can you do that?"

"I hate it when you do this to me," Michael protested with a strained tone.

Mika looked at her eldest son. They were at their family home in Ginza, Japan. It was a Friday afternoon, and Michael had come to submit the designs she'd asked for the fall line. He was incredibly talented but he couldn't seem to take criticism. Niad Fashion was on the brink of change, and they needed to make their mark in the industry with their new ready-to-wear line. However, Michael's attitude was leaving them dead in the water.

Mika folded her arms against her chest and paced the length of her worktable. Of her three sons, Michael was the one who'd taken after her late husband. His looks favored his Italian father: from his hazel eyes, his black curly hair to the incredible talent for high fashion and creativity. Michael had even inherited his father's temperament. So stubborn and unbending, it made him impossible to persuade.

"Michael," Mika started, but he stopped her by standing and raising his hands up.

"Mum, I'm never going to be what you want me to be. Niad Fashion's ready-to-wear line is not me, you need to take a step back, and focus on the right son."

"Antonio deals with the financials, you deal with the design," Mika said.

Her second born son did not have the design gene. Instead, Antonio had a brilliant mind for mathematics and ran the financial side of the company. It had been Antonio's idea to venture into the ready-to-wear industry intensively. She sighed as she stared at their company's head designer.

What was she to do with Michael?

"All I'm asking of you is to make a few concessions in your design style. How can you even suggest I ask Antonio?"

"I am not talking about Antonio," Michael said. "And I've tried making concessions in my design, I always end up unhappy with the results. Don't ask me to do that to myself."

"Are you suggesting Cole?" Mika stopped pacing to look at her eldest son. "Cole is still in school. He is also in Italy, how do you suggest we have him focus on the business while he is so far away?"

"You need to check on your youngest son more," Michael said with a chuckle. "And don't take what he says at face value. He has been quite busy these past two years."

"What do you mean?"

"Go visit him in Milan." Michael advised. "And don't act as though you're there to convince him to come back here. You'll lose him."

"What don't I know, Michael? Is Cole okay? Is he in trouble?" Mika asked, panic setting in.

Family always came first before business. She loved her sons so much; she'd do anything to make sure they were all right. Cole was in Italy because she'd felt that was the best place for him while she brought up the company. She called him regularly and visited him every month. He'd been too young when his father died. When Raphael's parents had offered to look after Cole in Italy, she'd thought it a good idea in order to give Cole stability. Now to hear that something was up with him, she shook her head.

"Michael, don't do this to your mother, tell me what's wrong with Cole."

"He's not in school," Michael said, giving her a wide smile. "I don't think this should come from me, so go visit Cole. He moved out of Nonna and Grandpa's house in Sicily. Go straight to Milan, he has an apartment there."

Michael reached for his cell phone and sent her a message.

"That's the address he gave me. Don't tell him I sent you there. He won't forgive me."

***

Cole's Fashion was having a show at the Sevilla Hotel. The three assistants who worked for Cole's Fashion had spent the day before arranging the hall on the second floor for the runway show. They'd arrived at five o'clock in the morning to complete the arrangements as well as prepare gift bags for their guests and Milan's top fashion critics. Attached to the main hall, was a preparation room filled with fourteen models, hairdressers, make-up artists, dressers and assistants.

Cole adjusted seams, arranged dresses, made sure that each design was sitting right. He worked around a make-up artist to adjust a collar on a white shirt.

Once done, he looked around the room searching. A frown creased his smooth forehead when he didn't find.

Someone was missing.

He placed the tape he was holding on a table, and walked around the room looking for his boyfriend.

"Have you seen Danny?" he asked an assistant when he couldn't locate him.

"He went into the little office you're using across the hall." She adjusted her clipboard. "Guests have started arriving. We're showing them to their seats. I should also let you know that the press is insisting they want a look backstage."

"Allow them in when we are three minutes to show time. We're still in chaos right now," Cole said.

She hurried away and Cole headed for the makeshift office. It was a good place to escape from the madness preparing a fashion show could be. He slipped into the little room and let out a sigh when he saw Danny leaning against the desk.

"What are you doing in here? The show is about to start soon, we should get you to makeup."

"I don't know if I can do this," Danny said, his voice trembling. "All those people, Cole, I can't do it."

"Danny."

Cole sighed at the familiar words. He wished he could infuse his self-confidence into Danny. His boyfriend was shy and had such low self-esteem it was painful to watch him sometimes. He moved closer to Danny, stopping when he was standing inches away from the slender young man. He hooked a finger under Danny's chin and tilted his beautiful face up so that he was looking into startling hazel eyes.

"Hey, you, where's your smile?"

Cole pressed a chaste kiss on trembling lips.

"Cheer up. Do you know how sad you look right now? It's depressing me. We are about to have a grand fashion show out there, you're wearing the most fabulous summer clothes I've ever made, why are you moping?"

"Because, I might let you down," Danny replied. "I don't ever want to let you down, Cole."

Cole wrapped his arms around Danny and rocked him gently, burying his face into Danny's blonde hair. Slender arms tightened around his waist and he closed his eyes, pressing another kiss into Danny's hair.

"I love you," Cole said. "I love you and you don't need to worry about letting me down, because it will never happen, Danny."

"Are you sure?" Danny asked, clinging to Cole.

"I'm sure. Now, come on, we have to show off your awesome bod out there. You don't need the makeup."

"Hey," Danny protested with a weak laugh. "Makeup makes the show."

"Really," Cole said, happy to hear that teasing note in Danny's voice.

"That's why you have me, so I can remind you of such things," Danny replied, pressing his own kisses on Cole's neck.

The feel of them made Cole's heart soar. He loved it when Danny got affectionate. He pulled back slowly and took Danny's lips in a full kiss, hoping to keep him in a happy mood. He smiled when Danny pressed closer rubbing against his arousal. They both groaned because they really didn't have time to do more. Cole sucked on Danny's tongue, savoring his taste, running his hands down Danny's back and wished for more time.

He broke the kiss and touched the corner of Danny's swollen lips with a finger. Danny met his gaze with dazed hazel eyes.

"You taste really good," Cole whispered. "I can't wait to do more of that after the show. I'll let you have free reign too."

"You're such a tease."

Danny sighed, his handsome face flushed with color. The melancholy look was gone and a glint shone in those eyes. Cole hurried him back to the dressing room where the makeup artist took over.

Cole hung around them for a moment keeping a close watch on Danny's mood. When Danny started joking around with the makeup artist and one of the assistants, he moved away to attend to the rest of the models.

Things were running smoothly, no hassles yet.

_It paid to plan,_ he thought as the fashion show producer started the show ten minutes later.

Cole stood in the wings of the runway inspecting each model before she or he got on the runway. The summer line was strong. He'd chosen to do shorts, light shirts and t-shirts. Bright colors to celebrate the summer weather, floating light fabrics garments to accommodate the sweltering heat of summer. He'd also added a unique cut he reserved for Cole's Fashion Men.

He turned around when an arm wrapped around his waist. He smiled at the sight of Danny in the final piece. Danny's make-up made his skin fairer, his hair pulled back from his face severely to fall down his back in wild spikes. Cole had no idea how the hairstylists did their work so fast. Danny smiled and the light caught at a silver strip under his left eye.

"You look gorgeous." Cole praised, careful not to wrinkle the stark white shirt Danny wore. The collar on the shirt dramatically stood up in the back of the neck, making it look like a coat with sharp edges. The short sleeves garnished with silver buttons that shone in the light. The shirt was unbuttoned in order to show off gold-checked calf-length shorts. There was a silver chain hanging on Danny's left hip with the standard Cole Fashion's logo on it.

Cole adjusted the collar keeping a keen eye on the runway and the male model posed at the end.

"Papa called a few minutes ago." Danny looked at him with a small smile. "He wants us to drop off wine crates tomorrow morning. I told him I'd do it. You'll be swamped at the store tomorrow."

"I don't mind taking them. I'll call in everyone to work." Cole soothed as he thought about Danny's dad. "What about your motorcycle? Did they fix it?"

"Yeah, I'll pick it up in the morning." Danny took in a deep breath as the music changed. "I'm next."

Cole smiled and kissed Danny's lips. "I'll be right here when you're done."

Danny stepped on to the runway. His energy fierce as he walked down the white walkway, enthralling the audience to buy his clothes, it was always amazing to watch Danny work.

They made such an odd pair, Cole thought as Danny posed at the end of the runway. A flurry of cameras flashed when Danny pulled off the shirt and held it over his shoulder. _Sexy, hot, stunning_ those were some of the words running through everyone's head right now.

Cole could only think _mine_.

Danny was the main reason why he'd started his fashion house in Milan. He'd chosen a life here with Danny. He smiled as his lover turned and walked back. He didn't want anything more than this.

Fashion and Danny, his life was full.

The models did a final lineup on the runway and then he was following them to thank the guests for coming. Cole hoped they'd give good reviews and buy his designs because he and Danny were in need of a vacation.

***

Mika Lucianne sat in the front row of the fashion show watching the designs on the runway with awe. Somewhere in the past five years, her twenty-two year old son had created a fashion house and turned it into a success in Milan. Cole's Fashion had a strong following. The people seated around her were veterans of the line. Positive murmurs assured her the line would be an enormous success.

How could she be the last to know?

The male model wearing the final design appeared at the start of the runway. He was blonde, his hair a stunning mess of spikes at the back. He wore an elegant white shirt with an interesting collar cut. The back of the collar was up and the edges of the collar were tipped and opened at the neck, the shirt had short sleeves that spotted silver buttons. His gold-checkered knee length shorts had a dangling silver chain. Like all the other models, he had no shoes.

The look spoke of utter relaxation, and comfort in the coming heat. The model walked with confidence down the runway pausing at the end of the runway, he allowed a full view of his figure before he walked back and reappeared a moment later with Cole on his arm.

Mika couldn't help smiling widely as her son was presented with a large bouquet of flowers. He bowed his thanks and waved at the clapping audience before he returned backstage. She wondered why Cole had felt he needed to lie about his success to her. It hurt to know that he had kept all this from her. It really hurt.

***

Cole stood in a corner talking to three of his models who were hoping to keep the pieces they were wearing. He thanked them for modelling his clothes and told them to come see him at the boutique the next day. He hoped he'd remember their faces in the morning as they hurried away.

Gods he was tired.

Cole leaned on the wall behind him. Sipping his champagne, he looked around wondering where Danny was, he really wanted to escape this after-party and take Danny out.

"You've been hiding something from me," his mother's voice cut into his thoughts.

Cole slapped his free hand to his mouth as he choked on his champagne. Wiping his mouth with his palm, he turned to find his mother standing a few feet away.

"Mom, what are you doing here?" Cole asked in shock.

It wasn't the best question, but she was supposed to be in Tokyo running the family fashion house.

"Hello to you too," Mika Lucianne said, with a wince. She looked around the busy room. "I thought I should see what my youngest son's been up to."

"Oh, Mum," Cole said and moved to hug her tightly.

Now that the shock of seeing her was gone, it was so good to see her.

She looked so beautiful in an elegant sapphire dress that flared at her waist into a full-bodied skirt that stopped just above her knee. The straps on her shoulders were made of small shining blue beads that danced with the light. Her mink black hair cut shoulder length. A few years ago, she'd been taller than he was but now he towered over her.

"I'm happy to see you."

Cole touched a dangling blue earring and smiled as it spun into motion.

"I'm happy to see you too, but am also very angry with you." Mika pulled back, her gaze severe, as she demanded in a hurt tone. "How could you keep this from me?"

"I'm sorry," Cole said. "It's a very long story...which you want to hear." Cole added when he saw the expression on Mika's face.

Damn Michael for this, obviously, this was about Niad Fashions, the family business. He reached out to a passing waiter and swiped a full champagne glass. He handed the glass to his mother.

"Here, have a glass of champagne."

"I know you, Cole," she said after a moment of silence.

Cole wondered if she did. He hoped she did because the explanations she'd come for were going to disappoint her. He wasn't returning to Japan. Mika sipped her drink.

"Don't worry. I'm not here to talk about Niad Fashions."

"Are you sure, Mum?" Cole asked with a frown.

Mika smiled as she met his gaze. She shrugged, an elegant movement that sent those straps at her shoulders glittering.

"I don't want to talk about Niad. I want to talk about you and Cole's Fashion. I'm so proud of you."

Cole paused, giving her a skeptical look. Cole's Fashion was probably killing her right now. She was probably raging inside about how he needed to go back to Japan and help with the family business. He hid a smile when she kept her silence.

"Are you really sure, Mum?"

Mika nodded and sipped her champagne looking around the festive room. She took another sip and smiled at him.

"Really, Cole," she said. "You can even show me the girl you like. The one that made you move out of your grandparent's house."

Cole frowned. The crowd shifted and he caught a glimpse of Danny making his way toward him. Things were always better out in the open, taking in a deep breath, he said. "Actually, about that....

***

Chapter Three

Hong Kong

_Someone wanted him dead, really wanted him dead_ , SarEr thought with a deep frown.

Hot water sprayed over his head in the shower and he closed his eyes allowing the heat to ease his aching muscles.

Two days ago, he'd been walking through the back gardens of the estate hoping to escape into town when a bullet whizzed by his head. He touched the edge of his left ear, wincing as his fingers grazed the burning skin. The bullet had left a friction burn on his ear lobe. Years of self-defense had saved him. He'd ducked down fast, making sure to keep hidden in the bushes surrounding him.

He'd dialed Han and hadn't moved until he saw his bodyguard rushing into the gardens with his men. As a result of that incident, Han was practically following him everywhere.

This afternoon, he'd felt so restless, they'd ended up in a sparring session in the basement gym. Han was unforgiving in training. Every muscle in his body was complaining. He hoped the hot water would help ease the aches enough for him to sleep.

"Are you alright?"

SarEr lifted his head at the intrusion, turning to find Jiro Nang standing at the shower door. Jiro was his father's errand boy, and one of the men Han had following him around. Jiro leaned on the doorjamb watching him with an amused gaze.

"What do you want?" SarEr asked.

He wasn't in the mood to deal with Jiro. They'd once been friends, a long time ago, but that Jiro was long gone. Instead, a conniving, meddling bastard had replaced the nice young boy he'd known.

"Han was rough with you. Did you like it?" Jiro sneered, crossing his arms against his chest. "Although, I think he already knows how you feel about other men."

"Get out of here, Jiro," SarEr said. He really didn't need this tonight. "You don't have to stay. Han will be back shortly."

"I wanted to tell you that I'm collecting rent this month. We need to keep you safe in the estate, Prince."

Jiro chuckled, an evil sound that made SarEr wonder if Jiro practiced in the mirror.

"I've told you before to stop calling me that," SarEr said, irritated. "You don't need to collect rent. I can still do it."

"But Master Nan is worried for your safety," Jiro taunted. "You are not to leave the estate, and the rent must be collected."

"I'll talk to Father," SarEr insisted. "Don't do anything before I talk to him."

Jiro's answer was a wicked laugh as he turned to leave the bathroom.

Damn bastard.

Thinking about Zun and Xiao Wei, SarEr turned off the water and grabbed a towel. He dried his chest and back negligently and wore the robe he'd tossed on the sink counter. He stalked out tying the robe just as Han walked in holding a bottle of jojoba oil.

"Why didn't you tell me about Jiro?" SarEr demanded, moving around Han.

In his bedroom, he headed for the closet. He needed to talk to his father about Jiro tonight. If Jiro went to collect rent down there—

SarEr shuddered. Zun always lost his cool around Jiro's nasty temperament.

"I told you to say something when—,"

"Jiro won't do anything," Han said, placing the massage oil on the bedside table and hurrying after him into the walk-in closet.

"He is going to harass Zun's family in the morning. I promised them it wouldn't happen again. I have to talk to father," SarEr said worried.

Han grabbed his arms from behind, holding him still.

"Stop freaking out. Jiro only wants to cause you trouble. Your father gave explicit orders. Everyone knows you're responsible for those properties. Jiro has no authority there."

"It's difficult not to freak out when he comes in here and taunts me."

SarEr strained against Han's tight hold on his arms.

Han took a step closer, his heat surrounding SarEr. After spending an afternoon being thrown on a mat by this same man, those strong arms felt real good just holding him. SarEr closed his eyes and exhaled the heat building between them. He ached, and having Han so close was tempting.

"I'm so tired," he murmured.

SarEr opened his eyes, staring into the mirror. He gave a silent gasp at the sight of his robe open. He hadn't tied the knot tight enough and it had come undone. Han watched him intently. Those dark eyes cataloguing his body with such fervor, his erection filled.

"Han," SarEr started to protest and would have shrugged Han's grip away but Han only tightened it, holding him prisoner.

"I've missed you," Han said in a heated whisper.

Han lowered his head and pressed a kiss on SarEr's bare shoulder, trailing kisses to along SarEr's neck and up to his ear. SarEr bit his lower lip to keep from moaning.

"All you think about these days is how to escape the estate." Han nipped his earlobe, a gentle bite that had SarEr gasping. "You could have been killed two days ago, you know that right? What is it that Zun has?"

"I—

"Hush, I don't want to hear it. This is my time, SarEr." Han licked SarEr's earlobe, sending delicious thrills down SarEr's back. "Do you want me to stop?"

SarEr cursed under his breath. He was painfully hard. They hadn't done this in weeks and he wanted it. He hated that Han could overpower him this easily. His body seemed to react to Han no matter what. It was pure lust, there was no love involved, but damn it he couldn't give it up.

"Do you want me to stop?" Han asked again.

SarEr stared into those dark eyes through the mirror. Han knew what he wanted. Still, Han held his gaze and sucked on the curve of his neck, driving him crazy.

"No," he whispered.

Han smiled and pulled SarEr back against him. He shifted so that he held both of SarEr's hands with one of his and ordered SarEr to watch as he moved his free hand down SarEr's chiseled torso. That large callused hand toyed with SarEr's nipples, slowly pinching one then the other. SarEr hissed in arousal, his breath coming fast as Han trailed maddening fingers lower to his stomach, lower still, gently tracing the soft juncture of his thigh before that hand found his weeping cock.

"I see you've missed me," Han said with quiet approval. "I'm going to make you cum and then I'll take you until you remember who you belong to."

SarEr closed his eyes. Heat flooded his body. He couldn't fight it even if he tried. Han was relentless, driving him to madness.

"Stop listening to Jiro Nang, he is jealous of you," Han said into his ear. "What he thinks is not important."

SarEr allowed his head to fall back on Han's broad shoulder. He was at the brink, one more stroke that was all he needed. Han's grip on his cock eased, refusing to give it to him. SarEr bit his lip in frustration. Opening his eyes, he stared at the ceiling for a moment.

"He—he could tell my father about us," SarEr said, afraid.

"Your father should never worry you, SarEr."

Han turned him around and took his lips in a punishing kiss.

***

SarEr woke up the next morning to find Han seated in an armchair across his bed.

Han was fully dressed in a black shirt, slacks and shoes. His attention on the cell phone he was holding.

SarEr rubbed his eyes irritated by Han's ability to be so awake this early.

"Why are you going through my phone?" SarEr asked.

"I'm making sure you're not getting threatening messages," Han replied. "You shouldn't get so angry in the morning, baby."

"Cut that out," SarEr said. He pushed the sheets away and sat up. "It's irritating not having any privacy around you."

"I've seen it all, SarEr," Han said, flashing him a smile. "I know everything about you. That's what makes me a good bodyguard. Zun has been texting you a lot."

"So what," SarEr asked, reaching for his white robe at the foot of the bed.

He pulled it on and tied the belt tight around his waist. He ran a hand through his messy black hair and stood.

"Zun is my friend. Why do you judge him more than my father does? Every time I'm with him, you can't seem to wait to pull me away. You've kept me away from him for a week now. What is it with you?"

"Zun will never understand your world. He might be your friend right now, but tomorrow, he will turn on you. I've seen that happen to your father often enough. I'm trying to protect you from the same thing."

"That's bullshit," SarEr said, and headed to the bathroom. Zun was different. Their friendship was different, stronger. "Don't judge Zun, Han. He's a good friend."

"We'll have to wait and see. You're heading for college soon. You two won't see each other for a couple of years. We'll see if he'll want to see you when you get back."

SarEr closed the door against that judging tone. He didn't want to think about a world where he and Zun would stop being friends.

***

"Can't I go out for a while?" SarEr implored his father at breakfast. "Just for a little bit—, two hours. I'll be at Zun's. You can send two men with me. No one is going to try to—,"

"No." Choi Yang cut him off, his face hidden behind a newspaper. "I'm not risking your life."

"How long are you going to keep doing this?"

SarEr pushed his plate of eggs away, his appetite nonexistent. He'd been hoping to get out of the estate for a while today. Zun was starting to wonder if he'd left town.

"Come on Dad, please!"

"I won't change my mind. Eat your breakfast and head to the gym." Choi Yang put the paper down and reached for his coffee. "I'll keep you in here until the new inspectors arrest the person shooting at you within the estate."

"That could take years," SarEr exclaimed dramatically. "In case you didn't notice, there are shots flying at me everyday. I shouldn't have to stop living my life."

"If you keep whining, I'm going to take your privileges with Zun away." Choi Yang warned his dark eyes flashing. "I'm serious, SarEr. Don't disobey my orders this time. Follow everything Han tells you."

SarEr sighed.

It was like arguing with a stone. No matter how many times he banged his head on the stone, he would be the one with the pounding headache. Frustrated, SarEr stood and left the dining table with a curt goodbye to his father.

Damn man was so stubborn.

SarEr wished he'd been born in a simpler family like Zun.

***

Mei Lee sat in the Zheng Ren salon that morning, letting a short sigh escape as she looked around the salon. She'd just finished cleaning up in anticipation of a busy day. The windows gleamed in the morning sun, the tiled floor sparkled; reclining back on the revolving chair, Mei smiled at the sight.

Her mother was due in ten minutes.

Mei put her foot on the floor and swung her chair around. She savored the quiet calm before the storm because at eight o'clock customers would troop in and wouldn't stop until five-thirty in the evening.

Her thoughts immediately strayed to her brother. Zun was unhappy and restless of late. He hadn't been able to see SarEr for a week. Mei worried because her brother was only happy when SarEr was around.

What would happen when SarEr went off to college?

She'd heard rumors about the young master going abroad.

_SarEr_ , she blushed.

SarEr with his beautiful eyes, handsome face, and really toned body, and that sexy mouth, she couldn't help having a crush on him. He was always so nice and polite to her. Though, she'd once seen the other side of SarEr's temper, the unrestrained, violent side that scared her. Late in the evening, Jiro showed up with his two cronies to harass her mother over rent. SarEr had raced in five minutes later and punched Jiro, pushing him out of the salon, his eyes flashing with anger. SarEr hadn't been gentle.

Mei sighed. As much as SarEr had looked scary, he'd also looked handsome. Jiro deserved the beating he got. The bastard was always taking things without permission, disrespecting people and abusing the power that Master Nan gave him. She really didn't like Jiro Nang. SarEr had won that day, but it hadn't made Jiro happy.

She was imagining SarEr coming to search for Zun at the salon and finding her when the salon door crashed open. The sound scared her and she turned to stare at the men pouring into the salon. They were all dressed in black and red leather. Her first thought was that they were here with SarEr. A closer look cured her of this notion as she realized their expressions were all wrong. A gasp escaped when Jiro Nang strolled in with a sickening smile on his face.

"Hi, Mei," he greeted, nodding his head to the men with him.

They closed the door behind him and pulled down the blinds, making Mei's blood run cold.

Jiro wasn't as handsome as SarEr was, although they were the same height. They also both kept their hair the same length. SarEr preferred to keep his in spiky styles that gave him a sexy edge, while Jiro's style just made him look evil. He had dark eyes that were never friendly, and his mouth had thin lips currently curved into an ugly sneer. He looked bigger than SarEr and that worried her, if Jiro tried to restrain her, she wouldn't be able to fight him off, even with the self-defense training Zun gave her.

Mei took a step back, and made sure there were several workstations between them. She hoped her mother would be back soon. Zun was out shopping for groceries and was due back in an hour, she wished him back right now.

"Don't be so worried, Mei," Jiro purred lazily, his gaze moving over the room. "I'm here on official business. Master Nan sent me because Prince is not available."

SarEr hated that nickname.

She'd heard him tell Zun once that they called him that because he was Master Nan's only son and there wasn't a person as protected. At the slightest threat, Master Nan demanded the best for his son.

She frowned. SarEr would have called them last night if he were unavailable to collect rent. He'd promised her mother.

"The month is not over yet, we still have three days to go," Mei managed through her fear. "My brother will be here soon. Can't you wait for him?"

"No, no, I can't do that," Jiro said, shaking his head. "You're trying to delay me, little girl."

Jiro signaled his men and they started breaking equipment on the counters. The breaking mirrors made Mei scream in protest because this salon was her family's livelihood.

"Stop."

She rushed to one of the men, trying to stop him before he dropped a hairdryer. He pushed her off easily and she stumbled back with a sob.

She turned to Jiro.

"Why are you doing this?"

Jiro watched her with a slight smile of satisfaction. He wasn't here for rent. She could see it now. He was here to punish SarEr in some way. Their pain would hurt SarEr and she couldn't stand by while Jiro got his way.

She focused her attention on his men. Running to the dryers lined up on the right side, she tried to stop one of the men from breaking them with a baseball bat. He grabbed her hair and threw her out of the way. He swung the wooden bat over the dryer hoods crashing them. She bit her lip hard when she fell on the floor. Spitting out blood, she scrambled to her feet and rushed back to grab him again, but he shook her off. Behind her, one of the men broke a wooden chair the pieces scattered on the floor.

The destruction had her punching the man who'd broken the chair. Damn it, these bastards were wrecking everything.

How was her family going to recover from this?

Insurance always took a while to pay. They hadn't insured all of their equipment because they didn't have enough money to keep up with a large payment.

Mei screamed in anger and punched the man breaking their furniture.

He retaliated by pushing her hard and she tripped over a chair.

Mei lost her balance and fell back. Excruciating pain exploded in her chest. It felt like she was on fire, she couldn't move, and breathing got harder. She gasped and closed her eyes as a wave of pain overtook her.

"Shit!" she heard Jiro say.

Mei opened her eyes, coughing out the warm liquid filling her mouth. It felt like her mouth was full of saliva, but it didn't taste right.

Jiro came to stand over her.

"What the fuck, Dasi?"

"Call an ambulance," one of the men said in a panic from across the room.

The man who had pushed her grabbed Jiro's arm and started pulling him away from Mei toward the door.

"They can't find us here."

Jiro kept standing over her.

Mei mastered all the accusation she could in her eyes. The pain was getting unbearable and her mouth was filling faster than she could cough out the blood. She knew it was blood now; the metallic taste was choking her senses. She wouldn't keep quiet about this. The moment she got up from here, she was going to have Zun call SarEr and tell him what Jiro had done.

Jiro's men dragged him away, and the last thing she heard was the door closing after them before she blacked out.

***

Zun adjusted the grocery bags in his arms, walking leisurely as he planned his day on his way back to the salon. He was hoping to convince Mei to stay with their mum today so that he could go into the city. He wanted to check out his options on getting a job, and the colleges available as well. He'd been toying with the idea of getting trained on hair design and styling. It would come in handy for when they opened a more prestigious place in the city. His mother would then supervise hairstylists instead of work as one, which would mean less work for her.

_It was time to move on_ , he thought.

Rumors that SarEr was leaving for college were getting persistent. Zun couldn't ignore it any longer. SarEr belonged to a different world, where great things awaited him. Zun doubted they would see each other again if SarEr left.

He reached the salon and pushed the doors open with his back. He frowned when he noted the closed blinds. A quick glance at his watch told him it was just before eight o'clock.

Where was Mei?

She was supposed to have cleaned up and opened the blinds.

Zun stopped when his sneakers crunched broken glass. He looked around the salon suddenly noting the debris. His bags dropped to the floor when he saw the still figure lying in the middle of the salon, a pool of blood spreading on the tiled floor.

He let out a strangled cry and rushed forward when he realized it was Mei. He fell to his knees by her side, took her arm and tried to shake her awake. She didn't seem to be breathing. He touched her neck to check for a pulse. Her black sweater was soaked with blood. Pushing up the edges of her sweater, he gasped when he saw the rugged two-inch thick wood in her chest.

"Oh God, Mei!"

***

SarEr finished his run in the basement gym and walked back to his rooms trying to formulate ways to get Han to let him visit Zun. He was tired of staying in the estate. Sweat trickled down his left temple and he used the edge of the towel around his neck to wipe his face. He walked into his room only to stop short when he walked into a man carrying a black snake in his hand. He jumped back in shock barely holding back a shout.

Han appeared at the door when the man walked off to discard the dead carcass.

"A cobra," Han explained grimly.

SarEr leaned against the wall willing his knees to keep him up. Han came to wrap an arm around his shoulders and led him into the living room in his suite because a clean-up crew was in the bathroom.

"The snake was waiting in your sink."

SarEr covered his face with the towel. He hated snakes. Han had trained him to react fast, but snakes paralyzed him. He shook slightly at the thought of what could have happened.

"Who is doing this?"

"We'll find out soon." Han promised. "I need to find out who was in your suite in the past hour. Your bathroom should be clear now. Will you be alright alone?"

"I'm fine," SarEr snapped without looking at Han.

He really wasn't but having Han hovering made it worse. He needed to leave this estate. It would be a relief to step out of the house and walk around the garden without fear. He wanted to run on the beach without fifty people following him to keep him safe.

Han sighed and gripped SarEr's shoulder as though he could read his mind.

"I'll find out who it is."

"I know," SarEr said. "Go on, I need to clean up."

Han studied his face for a moment before he hurried out of the bedroom.

SarEr stood staring out the window at a loss. Despite the clear death threat, he still wanted to leave the estate. If he could do it without anyone finding out, it would be better.

His cell phone beeped at the bedside table. He hurried to check it hoping it was Zun. Instead, he found a short message from an unknown number.

Lee Mei is in the hospital.

SarEr hadn't been down to the business street in a week but Zun would have told him if Mei was in hospital. She'd been fine when he left them. He dialed Zun's number, when there was no answer, he tried Xiao Wei's number.

Panic filled him when none of them answered.

He paced the length of his bedroom windows trying to think whom he could call. The property manager in town would alert Han that he had called. Cursing under his breath, SarEr dialed the number that had sent him the text message. When no one answered, he threw the phone on the bed and ran to his bathroom for a quick shower.

When he was dressed, he tried calling Zun again. When there was no answer, SarEr decided to head to the hospital.

SarEr sneaked out of his suite of rooms, and used the service wing of the mansion. He walked fast and only slowed down when he made it to the back garage where the employees parked. He'd parked a sports car there a month ago after another covert jaunt outside the estate. The black Lamborghini was covered with the white cover he'd used to hide it then.

Ignoring it, he headed for a black Toyota with a staff sticker used for errands. The keys were always left inside. The windows were tinted and the guards would assume one of the kitchen staff was going out to the grocery store.

SarEr drove out of the garage fast headed to the small town. He headed straight to the salon to find a crowd outside Xiao Wei's salon. The mess he found at the salon left him unsettled. The neighbors directed him to the hospital with solemn faces. SarEr drove fast and what seemed like an hour but was only thirty minutes later, he pulled into the hospital parking lot.

He ignored the curious glances that came from living in an area where everyone knew who he was. He headed straight for the inquiry desk and the nurse in-charge directed him to a small waiting room in the emergency wing. He found Zun and Xiao Wei sitting on a hard bench, their faces wrecked with grief. Zun sat beside his mother an arm around her shoulder as she cried silently into his shoulder.

Panic had SarEr rushing to Zun's side. He touched Zun's shoulder.

"What's happened to Mei? Why aren't you picking my calls?" SarEr asked.

Zun shrugged off his hand refusing to acknowledge his presence.

Surprised by the rejection, SarEr frowned.

"What's going on, Zun?"

"How can you ask me that question?"

Raw anger tinged Zun's voice.

The four people in the waiting room glanced up at his angry tone. Zun didn't notice. His eyes glazed with grief, Zun got to his feet and grabbed SarEr by his shirt collar. SarEr held his hands up in surrender when Zun shook him hard, then slammed him into the wall behind them.

"My sister is dying in there and you have the nerve to ask what's wrong?" Zun exploded. "Your people put her in here. Why couldn't you leave her alone and come for me?"

"Damn it, Zun," SarEr said, holding on to the tight fists at his neck. "Calm down, and tell me why Mei is in here. I need you to tell me, so I can help."

Zun stared at him trying to gauge his sincerity.

SarEr kept his tone calm.

"Zun, tell me what happened to Mei."

"That bastard, Jiro Nang," Zun said, the anger coursing through him making his body tremble. Tears in his eyes, Zun continued.

"Jiro assaulted Mei. I found her on the floor, a big wood splinter in her chest. She was bleeding so much—, I couldn't get it to stop."

"Hush," SarEr soothed as the fists at his neck loosened and he was able to break free of Zun's tight hold.

Jiro Nang again, SarEr frowned wondering why the bastard had gone to Xiao Wei's salon.

He reached for Zun's hands holding them gently. There was no resistance because Zun was falling apart. SarEr walked him back to where Xiao Wei watched them with worry. When Zun hugged his mother again, SarEr cursed under his breath. He should have trusted his gut about Jiro Nang. He'd worried about what Jiro would do after his threat last night despite Han's assurances. He could never have imagined something like this.

SarEr crouched by Xiao Wei and took her trembling fingers. He squeezed them gently.

"I'll find out what I can," he promised her. "Zun, what time did you come in?"

"Around eight-thirty in the morning," Zun said. "They're not telling us much except that she's in surgery. I'm worried that if they find out we have no insurance they won't help us."

"Stay with your mom," SarEr said, standing up. "I'll be right back."

SarEr went back to the inquiry desk. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his personal credit card, and handed it to the registration nurse in charge.

"Lee Mei, charge everything to that account and find me someone to tell us what's going on with her."

"Mr. Nan," the nurse stood up staring at his black card. She tapped a few keys on her computer. "She's still in surgery."

SarEr glared at her feeling murderous. He leaned over the counter and unleashed his temper.

"Her mother has been seated in that waiting room for hours. Two more minutes and that will be too much, lady. Get me someone who can help me!"

***

Chapter Four

Four hours later, Mei was out of surgery and settled in the intensive care unit. SarEr assured by the nurses that she had the best doctor, took Xiao Wei to sit with her daughter. Once that was done, he stepped out to talk to the doctor in-charge with Zun beside him.

"Why did it take so long?" SarEr asked the tired doctor.

"I was removing shards of wood that damaged part of her left lung and it wasn't an easy process. She lost a lot of blood at the scene. We've managed to stabilize her, and we'll keep a close watch on her. I can't say anymore at this point."

"There is hope, right," SarEr asked. "She's pulled through surgery, what are her chances?"

"She's holding on tight. The splinters were too many but we've fixed the damage. Our main fear is infection, so she'll remain in the intensive care unit. We're going to keep her comfortable and watch her for the next twenty-four hours."

SarEr thanked the doctor and led Zun away from Mei's room. They managed a few feet before Zun broke down on his shoulder. He held on tightly soothing Zun as he cried.

"SarEr, she has to make it, for my mother."

SarEr prayed for a miracle, he hadn't read hope in the doctor's eyes, but it didn't matter. He was going to make his own hope. He spent the next few hours moving between Xiao Wei, who remained by Mei's bedside and a private waiting room where Zun sat staring listlessly out the window.

SarEr made sure they both ate and was about to go asking for the doctor when his cell phone beeped against his hip. He paused in the hallway, his gaze on the caller ID.

It was Han.

SarEr hadn't given the man much thought since he'd left the estate earlier. He should probably have called Han and told him what was going on. He answered the call on the third ring.

"Where are you?" Han demanded into his ear. "The entire estate is in chaos. No one saw you leave, where are you hiding?"

"I need help." SarEr started. "Something happened today—,"

Before he could finish, pain exploded behind his eyes. He gasped and crumbled to the floor.

***

"SarEr," Han shouted into his phone but all he got was a beeping tone. He hung up and dialed again. SarEr's number was engaged.

"The call was too short," the tech guys from security informed him.

"Activate his tracker," Han ordered not liking the way SarEr's call had cut off.

He should have had someone watching him at all times.

"Where is Jiro? He was supposed to get back to me about Zun Lee's whereabouts."

"Boss, there was an incident in town. The Lees' are at the hospital. Jiro went to find out what is going on."

"What incident?" Han frowned.

"Mei Lee was assaulted this morning. No one knows who did it but she was rushed to the hospital."

"Why am I finding out now?" Han roared as he rushed out of the security room.

If SarEr had found out, he would have gone to the hospital. Three men followed him down the stairs to the front door.

"What time was this incident?"

"Around nine in the morning, the neighbors say they saw the ambulance parked at the hair salon."

Han cursed under his breath as he got into the black SUV that rolled up to the stairs. They needed to hurry; he had a bad feeling about this.

***

SarEr jerked awake groaning as pain lanced through his head. It was dark and he lay on his stomach on cold concrete. It took him a moment to realize that he had a black hood over his head. He moved to remove it but his arms were tied behind him.

"SarEr," Zun's voice penetrated the cloud of pain. "SarEr, are you alright?"

"Zun," he groaned as he rolled over to his side and tried to sit up.

His heart was pounding in his chest. They weren't in the hospital anymore. The last thing he remembered was talking to Han on his phone.

"You're alright, thank God." Zun's relief when he sat up eased his panic a little. "Don't struggle so much, we're in a utility closet. There is a shelf above you."

SarEr turned his head toward Zun's voice. "You're not hooded. Where are we?"

"I don't know." Zun sighed. "I've been trying to figure it out. My mum is still out."

"Your mum," SarEr gasped. "Xiao Wei is here too?"

"Yeah, they hit her pretty hard. I'm a little worried, she hasn't moved. Do you know who they are?"

_The person trying to kill him,_ he thought with a pang of fear.

He didn't have a clue, but why attack Xiao Wei and Zun? They had nothing to do with his family.

"Can you reach me?"

"No, I'm handcuffed to a shelf." Zun jiggled metal against the wood. "I think you can move though. If you crawl closer, I can take off that hood for you."

SarEr didn't hesitate. He slid on the floor in the direction of Zun's voice. It wasn't that much of a distance; he got to his knees and stood up slowly. He leaned as close as he could against Zun and the hood came off.

He blinked a few times in the dim light. They were in a utility closet full of cleaning chemicals, sponges and rugs. Zun turned to show him Xiao Wei braced against the shelf. Her hands tightly tied to the shelf above her. Her clean pink dress had a patch of dirt at the front.

"We have to get out of here." SarEr looked around the room hoping to find something to cut off the ropes tying his hands. "Did you see who took us?"

Zun started answer, but the door opened stopping him.

SarEr gasped when he saw Jiro Nang walk in flanked by four men. SarEr stared at the men behind Jiro. All of them were bald headed, dressed in black suits and wore black gloves on their hands. Assassins for hire. His father's business friends often used them to handle matters.

"Why are you doing this, Jiro?" SarEr asked.

Slow anger burned, as the need to rush the bastard filled every inch of him.

Mei was fighting for her life because of this bastard. When he got home, he was going to have Jiro fired and arrested. He was going to get justice for Zun.

"I'm going to bury you for this."

"If you had stayed away, this wouldn't involve you. You just had to meddle, didn't you? If you hadn't shown up at the hospital, no one would have known what happened," Jiro accused. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. You made my job easier, thanks for that, Prince."

"What do you mean by make your job easier? After what you did to Mei, you don't have a job. I'll make sure of it. You should be getting ready to go to jail," SarEr warned.

Jiro sneered.

"Where is the proof? The girl in hospital has been taken care of, now all that's left is her brother and mother, and then... you. You are so naïve, even after all you've been going through lately. You still haven't figured it out yet."

SarEr's gaze narrowed. Cobra in his bathroom, shots in the garden, the attempts on his life were inside the estate. Eyes wide, he stared at the man standing before him with a very sickening smile.

"I'm going to clean Mei's situation up. It will be like it never happened," Jiro said wickedly. "As for you, my dear Prince, your purpose is much bigger than these peasants. You're going to help me deceive your father or you're dead."

"Never," SarEr said, his gaze on the three men behind Jiro.

He was sure Han had activated the tracker they'd injected in him after the incident in the garden. He just needed to stall until Han got here. He wasn't going to go down without a fight.

"There won't be a hole big enough for you to hide if you do kill me. You know that, right?" SarEr taunted moving away from Zun and taking a few steps closer to Jiro. "My father will have your head."

"It won't matter in a few minutes," Jiro said and nodded to his men.

They grabbed his arms and dragged him out of the utility closet. SarEr struggled against their rough treatment as they went into a short dark hallway. They stopped in a small living room with a monitor on a desk.

Behind him, he heard more struggles and Zun and Xiao Wei were suddenly thrown onto the floor beside him. Zun managed to get on his knees placing his body over Xiao Wei's protectively. Xiao Wei jerked awake. She sat up when she realized men holding guns surrounded them. She reached for Zun with a small whimper.

Jiro stood beside SarEr holding a gun.

"Time to make a choice, SarEr Nan," Jiro said, pointing to the computer screen.

SarEr recognized his father sitting at a table in a restaurant. SarEr didn't know the man seated across his father. He looked at Jiro with a frown.

"Your father's life or the two peasants kneeling beside you," Jiro elaborated. A waiter holding a wine bottle appeared at his father table. "That wine is laced with enough epinephrine to kill your father in seconds. You have two minutes to decide SarEr."

***

Mika Lucianne was starting to feel a bit of an idiot the more she learned about her youngest son's life in Italy. Cole had graduated early from school, and instead of returning to Japan, he moved out of his grandparent's home in Sicily and headed for Milan. Cole rented an apartment and with capital he borrowed from his grandfather, he started Cole's Fashion. A thriving clothing boutique where the boutique's latest designs were flying off the shelves.

Her son was gay.

This, she was starting to realize, was the main reason he was reluctant to go back to Japan. He was afraid of her reaction.

As she walked through the boutique, studying the different designs on the shelves, she realized that her capabilities as a mother were under a test here. She couldn't mention Niad Fashions, and she couldn't, under any circumstances, criticize her son's boyfriend who was the young model who'd worn the finale design. Since she was staying at Cole's apartment, she'd seen them together.

Cole was happy, which is all she ever wanted for her children. Maybe all she could do here was give Cole her blessings.

"How long have you two been dating?" Mika asked, when Cole came to find her.

He carried a set of women's skinny jeans on hangers. He added them on a rack to her left.

"For about four years and a half," Cole replied. He adjusted the price on one of the jeans and paused to study her. "You don't have to ask if it bothers you."

"Cole, it's fine," Mika said, leaning on a pillar to study him. His black hair curled on his head thanks to his father's heritage. The only part of her she could see was his olive skin and his eyes. "I'm really disappointed, you know."

"Why?" Cole asked, putting more jeans on the rack.

He kept his gaze on the jeans, no doubt expecting her to say something negative. She smiled to herself.

"You are my son, Cole. I love you no matter who you are or what you do. I'm upset you didn't realize that," Mika said, studying her son.

She'd spent a week getting to know him. Cole was such a collection of sides. He was creative, grown up, vulnerable to a point, but otherwise very strong. His success with Cole's Fashion was astounding. She couldn't deny that he really knew how to capture interest. She was proud of him.

Cole moved to her side, and pressed a kiss on her forehead. She glanced up at him in surprise.

"I love you too. I should also tell you that you tend to be a control freak and I'm pleasantly surprised that you've been here a week and haven't tried to control me yet."

"Must be Italy," Mika teased him with a wink.

Last night, she'd watched Cole and Danny working in the kitchen while making dinner. The way they'd moved around each other. They'd tease each other, included her in their banter. It was bittersweet seeing Cole so happy. Knowing she could never pull him out of this place, Mika made a decision. She would never tell Cole how much she needed him in Niad Fashions. Instead, she would source a head designer, an outsider.

Cole deserved to keep what he'd built here.

She breathed out her disappointment and smiled at Cole.

"I think we should do something fun. I'm only here for two more days, my dear. Where's Danny? I like his company.

"He took his motorcycle to the garage a few days ago. He's been postponing to get it because he didn't want to leave you alone. I convinced him to pick it up this morning." Cole glanced at his watch. "He should have returned."

Mika reached out and rubbed Cole's chin with her thumb.

"I'll take you both out to dinner later, if that's okay with you."

Cole held her gaze for a moment, then he nodded at her acceptance of his life.

"That will be lovely, Mom."

"We can go to Danny's favorite restaurant," Mika said.

"He loves _La Marguerite_. It's a little place a few blocks from here. They serve the best pasta."

Mika nodded and was about to push off the pillar when one of Cole's assistants came holding the phone. She handed it to Cole and took over the jeans arrangement while Mika leaned back on the pillar and watched her son answer the call.

Mika knew before he gasped that something was wrong. Pushing off the pillar, she took the phone from him when he stared at her at a loss.

"Hello," she said in Italian, thanking the lessons she'd taken when she'd started dating Raphael, her husband. "This is Mika Lucianne, Cole Lucianne's mother, what's the problem?"

"There has been an accident. If you can please come down to the St. Maria Antoinette hospital downtown," a man said on the other side.

"We'll be right there."

The ride to St. Maria took forever. Cole glared at his mother when she stopped at a traffic light. Fear blocked his airways at the thought of Danny in hospital. That man had sounded critical; he couldn't even imagine the thought of Danny in hospital.

Mika recklessly cut off an oncoming car to enter the emergency drive. She dropped Cole off at the entrance and he raced in, frantic. Cole grabbed on to the first nurse he could find.

"I'm here for Danny Palozzi. He was in a car accident?" The nurse gave him an odd look and directed him to another nurse.

He rushed toward her his fingers turning cold. He needed to see Danny now.

"Excuse me. I'm here for Danny Palozzi."

"Cole Lucianne?" the nurse asked in a gentle tone.

"Yes, I'm Danny Palozzi's in case of emergency," Cole answered. "Is he alright? We came as fast as we could. May I see him?"

"Please come with me."

The nurse took his elbow and led him to the benches along a wall in the busy emergency room."

"What's wrong? Where is Danny?" Cole panicked.

"There's no easy way to tell you this. I'm sorry to inform you, Danny died on arrival to the hospital. He suffered severe trauma from the accident. We did all we could for him but he didn't make it and—"

Numbness crept in fast, Cole felt like his body was turning to stone. He couldn't understand what the nurse was saying.

"I—C—can't—"

"I'll give you sometime," the nurse continued. She squeezed his hands tight, her face full of sympathy. "You may see him for the purposes of identification. Do you want me to call someone?"

His ears were ringing. Cole stared at the nurse unseeing. Danny couldn't be dead. He was so vibrant, so alive and wild. They had just had coffee in the morning in the kitchen. Danny had teased him for putting too much sugar in his coffee. Danny had kissed him goodbye and rushed out the door with a wave.

Mika finally showed up. She sat beside him, an arm going round his shoulder. She greeted the nurse.

"I'm his mother. How is Danny?"

The nurse turned to her in relief.

Tears filled his eyes as the nurse repeated the news in a kind voice. After a moment, things just dimmed.

"I'm so sorry, Cole."

Mika pulled him in to a half hug.

Cole barely heard her, he felt as though she was talking from a far off place. The emergency room halls bustled, people moving in and out, phones rang, children cried, sirens, doctors, nurses, everything seemed to blend. He couldn't think.

"Cole," Mika said after a while. She shook him slightly to pull him out of his stupor. "I'll take you home."

"We can't leave him here," he whispered. gripping her hand. "We can't. I have—I have to take him home."

"I know, darling. I'll take care of everything," Mika soothed. When he didn't move, she crouched down before him and looked into his grief stricken face. "Cole."

"What am I going to do?" he asked her. His eyes filled with tears. "Mom, what will I do without Danny?"

Mika pulled him into a tight hug. Right now, when it was so raw, all she could do was hold him as he fell apart. When he wrapped his arms around her, she closed her eyes, his grief becoming her own. Tears slid down her face too when he sobbed.

"We were taking him to dinner," Cole sobbed.

***

They laid Daniel Shaw Palozzi to rest at his father's family home in Sicily. Cole could barely keep the tears from flowing down his cheeks as he watched mourners place flowers on Danny's coffin. Mika held on to him, probably afraid that he might try to jump into the hole beside Danny. It certainly felt like an idea, but he was too tired. He just wanted to go back to their apartment and bury himself in their bed. It was the safest place to be.

"Place your flower on the coffin, Cole," Mika said.

She walked him forward, she placed her white chrysanthemum on the coffin, and he followed suit. She pulled him back with her, and they both watched as Danny's father did the same thing. When he was done, he came to Cole and they hugged. Mr. Palozzi's hug broke him.

Cole pulled away and ran from the service, headed for the limousine they had used to come here. He flung himself into the backseat and allowed his tears to flow freely. He couldn't live through this. What was the point anyway? He'd fought so hard to make a life they could share. Cole's fashion was his life with Danny. Without him, what was he supposed to do? Shaking his head, Cole doubled over in pain.

The door opened and Mika slid in beside him. She placed a hand on his back. Her touch eased the pain, but it didn't stop it.

"Cole, I'm right here," Mika said. "If nothing else makes sense, know your brothers and I, are with you."

***

Five Years later

Tokyo
Chapter Five

Off peak hours at Streamers were always the best time to visit the coffee shop for a quiet conversation with a friend. Sipping his _ristretto_ , Savan Bovian closed his eyes in silent appreciation of a cup of quality coffee, before he set the branded glass mug back on the wooden table. He lifted his head to smile at the twenty-two year old singer seated across him, sipping her own coffee. She was dressed casually, and had a pink Niad cap pulled low over her head. It was effectively hiding her identity, although if anyone took a closer look there was no doubt she was the award-winning singer Valerie Aki.

She met his gaze and grinned.

"You were right, this is really good."

"I know my coffee," Savan said with a satisfied nod. "I hope it wasn't inconvenient to meet like this."

"Not at all," Valerie replied. "Unusual, but I like it. You surprise me, Mr. Bovian."

"Please call me, Savan. Why do I surprise you?"

"I didn't think you would take my request considering your popularity these days. It's very hard to get a hold of you."

"I haven't accepted to work with you yet. We're still getting to know each other," Savan replied with a small roll of his leather-clad shoulders.

He glanced outside the windows, watching pedestrians walking on the streets of Shibuya.

"How tight is your schedule on a normal day?" he asked.

"It depends on what is going on," Valerie replied. "Some days are packed, others not so much. I have to consult with my manager and agent. Savan, please tell me this is a yes, I really need you as my hair stylist. You work magic."

Savan shook his head at the praise and returned his attention back to her. She was currently wearing her brown hair in a low ponytail. She tended to go with the current trends, if they worked together, she might not like the direction he chose. He never followed trends.

Styling was creative for him; he preferred working with the individual's natural beauty to direct hair cut designs. Some clients didn't like that approach so he tried to stay away from long-term commitments.

"How did you hear about Bovian Image?" Savan asked.

"A model who is working with you on the upcoming Niad Fashion show," Valerie answered with a small smile. "She said you were phenomenal. Anyone who can impress Mika Lucianne is beyond great. It's rumored you did her hair and she couldn't stop talking about it."

"Hmm," Savan frowned. He didn't like thinking about Mika Lucianne. "Give me your direct number. I don't like dealing with managers and agents."

He reached into his leather jacket pocket and pulled out a black phone. A gasp escaped as he looked at it in surprise. The small disposable phone was new. He had bought it this morning before driving to Shibuya. His heartbeat skipped and he glanced up guiltily.

Valerie was busy rummaging in her hobo bag, so she didn't note his momentary panic. Gripping the gadget tightly, Savan wondered when the deep-seated fear in his gut would end.

Suddenly, sitting still became impossible and the hair on the back of his neck prickled. His dark gaze swept over the other customers in the coffee shop. No one was paying attention to him. He let out a short breath and turned to Valerie.

He had almost forgotten. The past five years seemed to rerun one after the other.

Trapped in a dingy room in the middle of the night, forced to his knees while Jiro shoved the barrel of a gun into Xiao Wei's mouth. Zun screaming in fear as tears streamed down his mother's face.

He had begged for their lives that night and forfeited his own.

Savan gulped back the lump that rose up to his throat at the memory of the missing person's reports his father had made. His old face plastered in newspapers, television, the internet, he gripped the phone more tightly.

His gaze moved to the faint reflection of his face in the windows beside him. He was a taller now, and thinner, though not too thin to be unhealthy. He'd grown his hair. He wore it in straight, uneven edges. He'd dyed the jagged mass black in the back with a blond fringe that fell over his right eye. Liang, his business partner called it his emo disguise. The fitted leather jacket was over a black t-shirt, and his black tight jeans disappeared into black half boots. The earrings going down his left ear finished the look.

He did not resembled the boy he had been five years ago. The man looking back at him was no longer protected or cherished.

Savan leaned his right elbow on the table and pressed his palm to his temple. He couldn't think about this right now. Not here, in public, shaking his head, he jerked when Valerie touched his right arm.

"Savan, are you alright?" Valerie asked, her voice filled with concern.

"My name is—," he stopped, lifting his head up fast.

Valerie was frowning at him.

Damn it, using aliases should be easy by now. Moving his hand away from her touch, he glanced down at his left hand where he still gripped the disposable phone tightly. The call that had prompted him to buy it filled his thoughts.

"Savan," Valerie said, her tone unsure.

His continued silence was unsettling her, but he couldn't seem to keep it together. Savan gave her a slight smile when he realized she was expecting a response to something she'd said. He had no idea what.

He shouldn't have agreed to meet Valerie. Not today anyway, he grimaced. Pushing his chair back, he stood up and bowed slightly.

"Something's come up, Valerie," he said. "Let's reschedule, you can come to the salon in Harajuku."

He didn't give her time to respond but rushed out of the coffee shop. Zipping up his leather jacket against the chilly weather, he stuck the phone into his left pocket and hurried to his motorcycle. He was weaving through traffic in the next minute.

My name is—

He maneuvered around a slow moving van, and increased his speed as traffic let up. The wind felt good on his face, leaning lower, he allowed the powerful machine to take over, sweeping him in to breath-taking speed. When he was flying, the sound of the wind deafening, cars flying past him, he didn't know what they were anymore, he let out a soft sigh and acknowledged the truth.

My name is SarEr Nan.

It felt blasphemous to think it as he slowed down to take an exit that would lead him to a quiet residential area. He'd had so many other names. Jing in Beijing, Tao in Shanghai, Lee in Seoul, countless more as they had moved around China and India.

Now, he was Savan, and Zun was Liang.

It was their longest alias. Frankly, it was starting to make him worry.

Savan pulled into a park and stopped the motorcycle in the parking lot. He sat still looking around the park for a moment before he reached into his pocket and pulled out the disposable phone. A small gadget that hadn't cost much, but afforded him the anonymity he needed. No registration and once he threw it out; no one would ever know where the call had come from.

Despite the promise to leave them alone if they left Hong Kong, Jiro's men made it a point to make sure they left whatever country they ran to, if Choi Yang's search got too close.

They always threatened to kill Zun's mom, so before they'd moved to Japan from New Caledonia, two years ago, they'd taken measures to protect her. The only day they could contact Xiao Wei was on Mei's death anniversary.

He and Zun were taking serious risks with the flourishing business that was scaling up faster than they had imagined. They'd both trained in hair design in the course of their numerous escapes from Jiro. It had seemed the logical course of action to open a hair salon in Harajuku when they moved to Japan. Their success while appreciated was making him worry. He was half scared of that bastard Jiro walking into their salon one morning and forcing them to pack up and leave.

Out of habit, Savan looked around again to make sure no one had followed him. Paranoia was something that he couldn't afford to lose no matter how safe he felt. It kept them alive. Jiro's men could get very aggressive in their campaigns. He had two bullet wounds on his left thigh for underestimating those bastards.

He dialed the number he'd memorized with diligence and brought the phone to his ear. His right hand gripped the motorcycle handle tightly when it rang on the other end.

"Hello," Xiao Wei answered, her tone hesitant.

"It's me," he said, his heart pounding so hard he was sure everyone in the park could hear it. "How have you been, Xiao Wei?"

"I've been fine, my dear. Are you taking care of yourself? Zun called me earlier. He's worried about you. Are you eating?"

"We're fine," he answered trying to reassure her. He kept his tone up beat. "What about you?"

"Don't worry about me. I've made a few friends and we're meeting later to burn incense for my Mei. I know you two can't be here, but I was hoping that I could see you even if it's a short visit. I miss you both so much."

"We miss you too, but you know we can't risk you again. We have to keep you safe. Forgive me for keeping your son away from you this way."

Savan closed his eyes, trying to reconcile the maternal concern she so easily gave with the crime he'd committed against her. How could she remain so compassionate with him after all the problems he'd caused her?

"Please burn extra incense for me. I thought about sending something but it isn't safe."

"I understand. SarEr," Xiao Wei said, that name made him gasp, his fingers turning white on the handle. "Stop blaming yourself, this isn't your fault."

"I have to go."

"Alright, eat well, my dear. I love you, my son," Xiao Wei said with a tearful voice.

He turned off the phone.

Tears tracked down his face and he sat for a moment letting them flow. After a minute, he got off the motorcycle and walked to the trashcan mounted on the sidewalk. He dumped the phone and wiped his face with his palms. Walking back, he swung back on the motorcycle and took in a deep breath.

_Enough moping_ , he thought as he rolled out of the parking lot.

Savan was waiting to merge into traffic when his actual cell phone rang and he had to stop to reach for the bluetooth clip in his trouser pocket. He answered the call keeping his attention on traffic.

"Savan, what happened with Valerie? She's panicking and her manager keeps calling the shop," Liang said into his ear. "Where are you?"

"On the way back," Savan answered. "I told her I'd meet her at the salon next time. Give her an appointment if she calls again."

"What's going on?" Liang asked, no doubt reading too much into the situation again. Savan sighed and merged into traffic.

"I'm on the road. Let's talk when I get there later."

There was a pause, before Liang said, "Fine, if you're done carrying burdens you should drop, don't forget you have a fashion show later today."

"I haven't forgotten," Savan said as Liang ended the call.

He doubted he could forget anything that darned fashion designer did.

Keeping at a legal speed, he set a course for Ginza. His thoughts centered on his latest big job. Two months ago, Mika Lucianne had insisted that she wanted Bovian Image to style the models for a private fashion show. Cole Lucianne, the head designer at Niad Fashions, was doing the show to bring in important European buyers and he was especially including designs from his private collection for the show. No one had seen the designs except the models that were to wear the dresses.

Mika had called Savan and forced him to audition on her to get the contract. He was still angry with her for the way she'd done it. She had a very condescending attitude that rubbed him in all the wrong places. They had gotten into a bitter argument when she challenged his talent. Damn woman was too hard headed for her own good.

Of course, compared to Mika, her son was the King of Hell.

Cole was a monster compared to her, Savan thought bitterly.

That idiot, with his rules, and demands, letting out a slow breath to keep calm, Savan consoled himself with the fact that after today, they didn't have to see each other again.

His phone buzzed again, and he reached up to answer it just as the traffic light on his lane turned red. He answered with a bored tone as he brought the motorcycle to a stop. Mika Lucianne exploded in his ear.

"Where the hell are you? We have a crisis and you're out playing, seriously Savan, is anything important to you?"

"What crisis?" Savan asked, rolling his eyes at her dramatics.

He had two stylists on site already, and he'd done most of the prep work the day before, any crisis would be on the side of Niad.

"Yui has cut her hair," Mika said and then promptly hung up.

Crisis was an understatement.

Yui was the main event in the show. She was supposed to be spotting amazing, life changing locks that would have stunned the audience into shelling out money. She was killing him. After all the prep work he'd done the day before, he was going to shoot her when he saw her.

Savan glanced at his watch and shook his head, it was a little after five o'clock, the show was starting at seven. Without the crisis, he would have had plenty of time to work on the models before the show. With this, he could almost feel the shiver of an icy gaze drilling a hole in his back.

Cole had to be literally having a cow.

Yui had officially screwed the rest of his day.

***

Chapter Six

Cole stood at the white board in one corner of the backstage hall staring at the lineup of the fifteen designs that were going to be on the runway in an hour and a half. Fifteen designs, and the design he'd thought would make the finale design was without a model. He moved the runner up to the last spot and took a step back.

"Her hair shouldn't be a problem if the head hairstylist fixes it," his mother said coming to stand beside him. "That dress can't be cut out of the show."

"I don't want to refit it," Cole said, staring at the board thoughtfully.

His mother was right, but it was always good to consider the possibility. He looked around the large room where models were already arriving and getting started on their preparations. The hair stylists were already hard at work at their station, glancing at them—, he frowned.

"He's not here yet."

"I called him," Mika said. "Don't start scowling yet, without Yui's stupid decision making, we were going to be on time. I cleared the schedule with him yesterday."

"Do you realize you spend ninety percent of the time making excuses for him?" Cole asked.

He refused to dwell on that particular explosive keg.

This show was purely to impress, and that was how he'd created the designs. Each of the fifteen dresses represented a jewelry company attending their event tonight. His older brother, Antonio, had come up with the idea in order to get more investments and increase popularity with high couture jewelers.

He'd characterized each of the models using the mythical goddesses the fifteen designs represented. He started ticking the names of those who didn't have issues in the room. Iris, Rhea, Selene, Luna, Sol, Venus, Graces, Fates, Eos, Ceres, he paused when he got to Athena.

"She's in the bathroom," Mika said helpfully. "Her hair is done. She's going to makeup next."

"I have to choose between, Gaia, Aphrodite, and Flora, one of them will open the show, the other will close. Meanwhile, we need to figure out what to do about Hera. The Swarovski jewels are on that design."

"Michael might be able to help with the fitting, he can loan us one of his lead models," Mika suggested. "She will understand if we have to pin it on her, she'll know how to walk."

"I can't believe we're even contemplating this." Cole dropped the marker he held on its holder. "What the fuck is wrong with Yui? Partying all night, and showing up with a sheered head."

Just thinking about it made him shake with anger.

Rubbing his eyes, Cole groaned when his assistant came rushing holding out a cell phone and a clipboard full of papers.

"Antonio is on the phone. I don't know who told him about Yui, but he's panicking. He wants to talk to you," Miaka said, handing the clip board to Mika.

"I'll sort this out," Mika promised Cole as he stared at the caller ID on his phone. "Tell Antonio everything is fine, Cole, and mean it."

Cole grimaced, walking out of the hall to the corridor where he could gain some modicum of privacy. His eyes were gritty, and he still needed to change from the loose black shirt, and soft white pants he'd worn at six in the morning. He brought the phone to his ear.

"What's up, Antonio?"

"I have plans riding on this fashion show, Cole. I can't handle depressing news like I'm getting while watching these representatives taking seats, ready to watch their merchandise on your designs."

"If this is your way of showing support, it sucks," Cole replied. His gaze on his leather sandals, he leaned on the wall and tried to come up with a solution to Yui. "It's a small staffing problem, Michael and I will fix it."

"You're including Michael," Antonio said his tone rising.

Cole closed his eyes with a wince.

Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned Michael was helping. Everyone tended to react the same way whenever Michael was included in a crisis.

"Antonio, please, I'm sure the bar is open next door. It's still early, why don't you get something to calm down and let me handle this side of things. Don't you trust me?"

"You know I trust you, but—"

"But nothing," Cole interrupted him. "The show will go on without a hitch. I'm hanging up now."

Cole let out a long sigh and allowed his head to drop for a moment. His confidence was lagging today. Yui was murdering him. When she had walked in, her red locks butchered by some unknown hairdresser, he'd wanted to kill her. If there had been a gun close by, he might have shot her. He hadn't even given her a chance to explain, he'd just kicked her out of the hall. To think he'd spent the past week fitting Hera's dress on her, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. All that work for nothing, it burned.

The double doors at the end of the corridor opened and he glanced up in time to see Savan Bovian walk in from the lobby and he wasn't alone. The sight of the woman walking behind him had Cole's blood pressure sky rocketing to unheard of heights. It thundered in his ears as though he was going to have a heart attack in the next minute. Hours of work, the stress of dealing with Antonio and the darned investors, the fabric issues the production department had made him go through, all of it seemed to explode in that moment.

He couldn't have stopped it if he wanted to. The bloody wardrobe disaster couldn't walk in here hauling that woman as though she hadn't just ruined his perfectly planned fashion show.

"Turn around and get her out of here," Cole said, pushing off the wall.

Cole moved to stop their progress into the large dressing room. He couldn't help noticing that Savan held Yui's hand tightly, his body positioned to protect her in the case Cole was to lash out. Those slender fingers that teased hair into submission so easily clenched around Yui's—

Cole stopped that thought.

"I won't have her in my show and that is final."

"I can fix it," Savan said, not letting go of Yui's hand.

She was clearly shaking as she tried to pull away from Savan's hold, but the punk was not letting go. Cole wished he would.

"If you move, I'll get started and the show can go on."

"Who do you think you are? What can you do about a woman who has no hair? You were there during the production meeting, weren't you? Or do you only have a pretty face and no brains?"

"Don't go there." Savan warned standing his ground. He handed his motorcycle helmet to Yui and moved a step closer to Cole. "I said I can fix her hair to fit the theme, but you need to move so that I can get started."

"You're not listening," Cole replied, his hands clenched into fists as he stared down into cool dark onyx eyes. "She's not modeling any clothes of mine."

"Aren't you overreacting here," Savan asked with a frown.

Frustration mixed in with emotions already riding him hard as his eyes helplessly followed the dance of lines on Savan's smooth forehead. The urge to reach out and move the blond fringe away from Savan's forehead so that he could see more of that frown annoyed him.

Stepping back, Cole turned to Yui. Her eyes were red from crying. She lowered her gaze and he scoffed. Beautiful women and their weapons, of course Savan would fall for all those tears.

"We had a deal, Yui," he said then. "Didn't we?"

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Your hair was supposed to be kept long for the sake of this fashion show. I especially asked you to do so, and still, you broke the deal," he said, with a shake of his head. "That dress was to be the finale, if you wear it now, you're going to be in the middle of the lineup. You have no idea how much it pains me to say that. The offer to be the face of Niad is also off the table. Are you still willing to stand there?"

"She is," Savan replied with a hard tone.

Cole couldn't help returning his gaze to dark eyes. He'd never met someone so unsettling. Savan seemed like a man caught on the verge of an event at all times. He strove to remain untouched by people and situations yet, here he was fighting for a model that had screwed up.

What did he think he was doing? Why did he care what would happen to Yui?

Her reputation was already ruined. Cutting her hair before a show was going to cause trouble for her on any jobs she thought to take in the future. Savan had to know that.

_Or maybe_ , Cole fought the ugly need to lash out as he finished his last thought.

Were they dating?

"I'm talking to Yui," Cole said. "I don't understand how your answers factor into anything she does."

"I've made it my business," Savan replied. "If she doesn't care what her position in the lineup is, are you going to let me fix her hair?"

"I don't understand you," Cole exploded.

It would be a good thing if Savan could fix Yui's hair but why did he need to fight for her so valiantly? Closing the distance between them, their noses practically touching, he could breathe in Savan's scent. A maddening mixture of mint, lavender and vanilla filled his lungs. He closed his eyes as heat simmered deliciously, until he was fully erect. His trousers got too tight and the need to pull Savan closer rose.

"You're invading my space," Savan said coldly.

Blinking, Cole stepped back and let out a harsh breath. It had been so long since he'd reacted to anyone this way. It felt like a betrayal.

_Danny_.

Cole bit his lip hard in punishment.

"Go on in, at least that solves one problem. As soon as you're done with her hair, call me, she doesn't go on unless I approve it."

"Yes, master," Savan said, his tone mocking.

Savan walked around him and into the large dressing room.

Yui hurried after her knight, and Cole stood in the hallway puzzled by his own behavior. He needed this show to end, things would go back to normal and he could concentrate on something more important than his carnal thoughts. It was bad enough that he was lusting after a punk with terrible fashion sense. He let out a sigh and decided that after the show tonight he was going to have to do better than his hand in the shower.

***

Savan could barely breathe, his steps faltered the moment they walked in to the large dressing room. He paused, let go of Yui's hand and took in a deep gulp of air to calm down.

This was getting unreasonable, Cole was out of his mind. Did he have to be so forceful about everything?

"Thanks," Yui said, looking at him as though he'd just saved her from the depths of hell. "I owe you fifty, Savan."

"Don't thank me yet," he replied, looking around the room.

The rest of the models were giving Yui bad looks, no doubt because she was back after having committed such a _faux pas_.

Savan pointed to the hair and make-up area.

"Let's go, we don't have much time. I still think you should have called me last night instead of allowing your mother to do this to your hair."

Yui sighed and followed him to the line of chairs set up with bright lights shining to allow perfect lighting. She slid into an empty chair and stared at her face in the mirror while Savan put away his helmet.

"I already told you, she gets that way. I have no way of controlling it. I wish I could explain it to you."

Yui sighed and he glanced at her with concern.

Meeting his gaze, she blushed.

"Listen, we're all not like you, Savan. Our lives aren't as free as yours seems to be. I have a family who depends on me. Even though I'm a super model, people think I have it all, but it's not easy watching my mother lose her mind. What could I do?"

"You could have called me," Savan said quietly, wondering if he really did come off as being free.

Shying away from his own problems, he focused on Yui's hair, running his fingers through it as he planned his design.

"She didn't have to cut the hair off. You could have used a wig. I've shown you how to get one on really fast."

"It was late, and I wasn't in a position to save my hair," she said, shaking her head.

Savan couldn't help marveling that she still seemed taller than him even seated. Her beauty was classic: not too pretty, but ethereal enough to be stunning. She walked the runway as if she owned the entire world. Her confidence was inspiring, and if you didn't know her past and her personal life, one might mistake Yui for having it all.

"Next time, call me before you go see her. You have my private number, don't you?" Savan demanded, forgiving her.

To be truthful, he'd forgiven her the moment he'd driven up to Niad and found her crying seated on the curb. She'd looked so miserable, remembering his own issues earlier; he hadn't had the heart to yell.

Picking up a wrap, he put it around her shoulders and pushed her chair closer to the mirrors and the counter of products put there by his assistants. Smiling at Yui, she let out a relieved sigh.

"You should have seen the monster's face when I walked in. I thought I was done for."

"What have I told you about playing with fire?" Savan asked.

The day before, he'd spent a considerable amount of time moisturizing her long hair before he'd turned it red for her role as _Hera_. Staring at the sheared locks now, he could hardly believe it was gone.

"I mourn your hair. It was beautiful."

"Savan," Yui said, looking at him through the mirrors. "Are you sure I can't make you date me?"

Sinking his fingers into her hair, he wiggled them making her smile before he spoke.

"I'm as gay they come, my love, and proud of it. A hug and a night out getting stinking drunk is the best I can do for you. First, we have to get through the next two hours."

Thankfully, he usually planned for most types of problems when taking a job like this. Glancing at his assistants, he was happy to see that only two models remained. His most talented stylist, a young man named Kaito was busy working on _Gaia'_ s hair.

Her colors were all shades of green, her blond mane of hair tumbling down her back in large barrel curls. Kaito was weaving green pieces of fake human hair into the blond to compliment her makeup.

Sali, his other hairstylist, was busy fitting an intricate flower piece of daisies for _Flora,_ the goddess of flowers. The other twelve models were done, and wearing their dresses. The excitement was intense as with each minute, the show drew near.

Dressers rushed from one model to another, the fashion producer was ordering his minions around, and there was Cole, juggling incessant questions from photographers, and dealing with issues on the dresses.

Happy that things were moving along, Savan got to work on Yui. He retrieved packages of fake red hair from a stash in a box. He laid the packages out on the table, and got to work, blocking out everyone else in the room. Using hair glue, he fixed the track lines in Yui's hair. He worked steadily until he'd filled her whole head with red fake hair.

Running his fingers through the mass of hair that had accumulated down Yui's back, Savan nodded his satisfaction.

Now that she had long hair again, they were going to get started on Hera's hair design. Her crown was to be a pearlescent red crown that would fit at the top of her head.

Grabbing the red and gold glittering string that Kaito handed him, Savan started weaving it through some of the hair on her right side, while Kaito did the left. He took Kaito's side holding them together on the back of Yui's head and tied the glittering string around the twists. He reached for the crown made of scales polished to a red pearlescent shine and arranged it to fit in the twists so that there would be no chance of falling or slipping off. He used a roller to give her hair the barrel curls that everyone else wore.

"How much longer," Mika asked as Savan did the last curls.

He turned off the roller and put it in its holder.

"I'm done."

Mika moved around him to look at Yui and gasped.

Savan glanced at Yui's reflection in the mirror and smiled in satisfaction. Forcing fake hair into compliance was easier than actual hair. The full-bodied barrel curls were perfect, and the color was a vibrant red that complimented her warm skin. She seemed out of this world. Yui moved closer to the mirror, and the lights captured the glittering string in her hair perfectly.

"Cole wanted to approve it," Savan said, flexing his arms above his head.

He glanced around the room, noting that the models had moved to the waiting area where Cole was inspecting them. The make-up artists were making adjustments and the dressers were arranging fabric on the dresses. Catching the eye of one of the nicer ladies who did make up, Savan waved her over.

"I'll get her dresser," Mika said with a secret smile.

"Savan," Yui said, when the make-up crew surrounded her.

He paused to look at her.

"Thanks."

"No problem," Savan waved at her and motioned for his crew to start packing up. Finding Mika at the clothing racks, he watched as she opened the bag holding Yui's dress. "Do you need anything else from me?"

"Yui was last," Mika answered.

She was staring at the dress, and frankly so was he. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. The crystals sewn into the bodice flashed in the light, like glittering ice on a bed of lush red silk.

"You won't stay for the end?"

"I don't need to. I'll leave two stylists for later," Savan replied.

"Fine," Mika said, looking at him. "Thank you, I know it's been trying dealing with my son. You did well."

"I suppose," Savan glanced at the tall man talking to a photographer.

One last look, before he walked away. Drinking in the sight of broad shoulders, encased in a pristine white shirt, slender hips that moved on to long legs in black slacks. That black curling hair that spoke of his Italian heritage. Cole laughed and Savan couldn't help the twitch on his own lips. The man had an infectious beautiful laugh.

"Savan," Mika cut into his thoughts and his gaze moved to her swiftly. "You were leaving."

Her reminder sobered him.

He couldn't lust after people he couldn't have.

Nodding curtly, he turned and walked away from her, _and him._

***

"Yui is closing," Mika said, when she found Cole at the runway entrance.

Cole waved off the second last model, and turned to look at her puzzled.

"Gaia closes, we talked about this. If Yui is done, she should be right here."

Cole turned to inspect the two models standing with him.

"Trust me, Cole," Mika replied. "Yui will close."

Not wanting to get into an argument, Cole frowned and was about to take his mother's hand to pull her to the side, when Yui appeared. She _was perfect_. The dress and the hair were just as he'd imagined it on paper.

She stopped beside Mika, her left hand on her stomach. She was shaking with nerves. She glanced at him nervously, and he smiled.

"Yui goes last," Cole said, knowing a good showstopper when he saw one. "Where is he?"

"He left," Mika replied.

Cole frowned and watched as his mother walked away without further explanation.

What did she mean Savan had left?

"I know where he goes after work," Yui said, her gaze repentant. "The least I can do is pay him back, right? I'll give you the address when we're done."

"Give it to me now," Cole said, handing her his cell phone.

He had a list of questions for his head hair stylist.

First on the list, was what kind of man left a job without a single word?

***
Chapter Seven

Cole read the sign on the front of the red brick building, comparing it to the black card Yui had given him. A black sign that resembled the card hang haphazardly with the words, ' _Club Hitoiro'_ printed in red.

Cole slipped the card back into his pocket and glanced across the street to the three-story building with a Bovian Image sign on the ground floor.

_How convenient_ , he thought.

He turned toward the club entrance, but his gaze paused on the black Ducati parked in the club lot. It was unmistakable, the helmet he'd seen Savan carry around shone under the streetlights.

Two bulky men guarded the black double doors of the club. He waited behind a rowdy group of girls and listened as they tried to get into the club without their identification. One of the bouncers at the door motioned them to the side and Cole produced the card Yui had given him.

"You're a new face, why do you have this card?" the bouncer asked, staring at him with skepticism.

"Savan gave it to me," he said, following Yui's instructions.

He'd thought it useless information.

"Ah," the bouncer said with a satisfied nod. "He's on the second floor by now."

Agreeing as though he understood what that was about, Cole walked into the seemingly quiet club. The owner knew a little bit about soundproofing because a wave of loud music hit him at once after he entered the second entrance to a dimly lit raging dance club.

The place was crowded, and loud, he couldn't hear himself think. Strobe lights pierced the dim light, green to blue to red, it made him feel like he'd stepped into another world. Savan's misfit wardrobe started to make sense when he realized everyone in here seemed to share his style. Ripped fitted t-shirts, skinny jeans, and boots, women in skirts held together with safety pins, hair that bordered on punk rock, really bright make up. A young man walked by him in a fishnet top and leather pants that seemed to have been melded to his body.

No wonder Yui had been worried about him when she gave him the card. Shaking his head, he wondered how he was ever going to find Savan in this mess. Hands deep in his black coat, he walked around the club, navigating a maze of clearly crazed individuals, until he found the bar.

"What's your poison?" the bartender asked when he leaned on the counter.

"Scotch, neat," he answered.

The glass appeared in less than a minute and he handed over the cash.

"Hey, do you know where I can find Savan?"

"Try upstairs," the bartender, pointed to a staircase on his right. It was closed off with a red rope. "You'll need a card to get up there."

Cole tossed back his drink. He hissed at the burn down his throat and pushed off the counter. The card was starting to become a useful piece of plastic. There were no questions asked when he flashed it. Climbing up the stairs, he came up to the second floor and an equally loud dance floor.

Except up here, there were low tables on the far end with deep red couches, and curtains that could provide privacy if needed. He caught a glimpse of two men kissing, nestled in one of the red couches in the corner. In the next booth, a young woman straddled her boyfriend's lap while she did her best to explore his mouth.

Cole's gaze slid to the next lounge area. He paused when he saw Savan pouring a drink from a bottle and tossing it back without a wince.

His head hair stylist was working on getting as drunk as possible. Smiling at the sight, he cut through the crowded dance floor to get to the booth and slid into the seat across Savan.

"That bad a day," he mused, when Savan poured another drink and tossed it back. "I didn't think I pissed you off this much."

"What are you doing here?" Savan asked in greeting.

He didn't look up, and the blonde fringe covered his face.

Their working relationship was a trial on any day, this was not going to be easy, Cole thought as he leaned forward on the table. His gaze fell on the slender fingers holding the bottle. He'd never noticed them before. Most times, he was too preoccupied with Savan's handsome face to look anywhere else.

_Magic hands_ , he mused, that's what his mother had called them.

"Are you going to sit there watching me all night?" Savan demanded after a while.

"You left without talking to me," Cole accused. "Why?"

"The job was done, what more did we need to talk about?"

"You didn't give me a chance to apologize," Cole said with a sigh.

Those onyx eyes lifted, finally, and he was plunged into a dark gaze.

_Were they always these intense_? Cole wondered.

"For what I said in the hallway, I was being unreasonable."

"I'm used to it," Savan replied with a shrug.

Savan lifted the bottle again to pour another shot, but he paused and looked at him.

"Is that all?"

"It should be," Cole said, but it wasn't.

He wanted to know what was going on in Savan's head. Why he was sitting here in this dark club drinking like there was no tomorrow. Savan looked too tense, as though he might break should someone touch him.

"Then leave," Savan said. "You stand out too much, all that polished character is grating on my nerves. How did you get up here anyway?"

"And I thought I was a bad drunk," Cole scoffed at Savan's outburst.

What a bad attitude, it should have been enough for him to leave but he didn't.

"What's going on with you?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Savan replied, returning to his drinking.

Looking around the club again, Cole was surprised to see a man dressed impeccably in a black shirt and slacks walking toward them. It was Ahmon Sanori, heir to the Sanori group of companies. He wore his dark hair short and spiky. Ahmon's eyes were shadowed black and he wore an earring on his left ear. His was a refined punk style.

Intriguing, so many possibilities, Cole thought.

Ahmon was a well-bred heir to a money empire that was as old as time.

Cole was surprised to see Ahmon slide next to Savan, and wrap an arm around Savan's shoulders. Ahmon then leaned in and pressed a very wet kiss on Savan's neck. Jealousy so hot, rose.

"Who is your visitor?" Ahmon asked, when he was done marking his territory.

Savan glanced at Cole with a shrug.

"He was just leaving, weren't you, Cole?"

Cole met dark eyes and felt a punch in his gut that he hadn't been expecting. He wasn't sure why it hurt to see Savan in someone else's arms, but it did. It shouldn't matter. In fact, seeing him with a boyfriend was supposed to be a good thing. It freed him from this need to know more about Savan.

"Cole," Savan prompted. "I wouldn't want you to get lost in here, should we get you an escort. We're pretty wild around here."

"I'll make sure he gets out safely," Ahmon said, smiling lasciviously at Savan.

Cole felt bile rise up at the thought of these two together. He got up and stumbled out of his seat. Waving a hand at them, he ground out.

"I can find my way out. Thank you again for tonight, Savan. See you around."

Savan shrugged, and Cole hurried out of the club as quickly as he could. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting tonight. Savan falling into his arms would have been ideal. However, the plan to come find Savan had been a stupid idea.

***

Sweat trailed down his back, Savan leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Every nerve in his body singing with pleasure, he could barely keep standing. Seeking fingers trailed up his back, caressing, burning, he moaned as a hot hand stroked his cock in firm strokes. Opening his eyes, he buried his face in his lover's shoulder as those knowing fingers increased their speed.

Clenching the black fabric of Ahmon's shirt, he almost panicked when the strokes paused.

"Don't stop," he slurred out in a heated whisper.

A finger traced over his sensitive head, before that hand continued its firm strokes. His hips followed eagerly, he was so close. Ahmon sunk fingers into Savan's hair and pulled his head back, hard lips captured his own in a purely sensual kiss.

An unrelenting kiss that took all thought away, he didn't want it to end. All that mattered were the delicious sensations coming from the heated strokes on his aching, weeping cock. Ahmon shifted his lips to Savan's jaw, then to the curve of his neck, sliding that maddening tongue along to his left ear where he captured his earlobe. His teeth teased the earring studs there. Ahmon moaned; his hot breath tickling, then he bit Savan's earlobe gently.

Savan clamped teeth on his lower lip to keep from yelling out as he exploded, coming in hard jerks that had Ahmon pressing him against the wall so that he could keep standing through his violent ecstasy.

Loud beats of music flooded his exhausted senses. Savan closed his eyes. Ahmon was zipping up his fly and pressing soft kisses on his neck. Sighing in bliss, he brought a hand up to touch Ahmon's jaw.

"What about you?"

"Are you really in a condition to help anyone tonight?" Ahmon asked, as he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket.

He wiped his hand and folded the handkerchief. He returned it to his pocket to throw away later.

"You're drunk, Savan."

Glad for the wall behind him, Savan wiped a trembling hand down his sweaty face and stared at the man who was helping hold him up with a hand on his right shoulder. After leaving the fashion show, he'd headed straight for Club Hitoiro. The club was a convenient hang out joint that always had a party no matter what day of the week.

Savan ordered a bottle of whisky, and judging from how his head felt, and the hot hand job in the dark corner of the club, he was beyond drunk. Too drunk to think about Cole's surprising visit and the expression the man had worn before he'd left.

Those eyes—he leaned into Ahmon's inviting body.

"I'm up for it. Let's do it in your office," Savan said.

The thought of going home was not appealing. He didn't want to remember why he hated today so much. He was clearly not drunk enough yet if he could still think.

"Before we go there though, I need another drink."

Pushing Ahmon off him, Savan stumbled in the direction of the bar barely able to keep standing. He rubbed his eyes to clear the haze of the dimly lit club. He vaguely wondered what time it was. The deejay was spinning Far East Movement, and the crowd was dancing wildly. He stumbled into a bunch of girls who were rushing to the dance floor. They laughed and he smiled at them as they moved on.

Savan was at the bar when Ahmon finally got to him. Taking the bottle the bartender handed him, he tried to concentrate on pouring the liquor into his glass. It seemed like there were two, or maybe three. When he couldn't figure out which glass, he brought the bottle up to his lips and took a healthy sip. The liquid burned down his throat, making him wince in appreciation.

"What the hell happened today? Why are you acting like this?" Ahmon asked, pushing him into a stool. "Was it that man who came earlier? I can take care of it, if you tell me."

"Leave him alone," Savan said. Ahmon could get vicious. Cole didn't need his kind of trouble. "Stop worrying, I had a hard day."

Lifting the bottle again, he started to take another sip, but Ahmon grabbed the bottle away.

"Give that back," Savan said, hot anger boiling up to the surface like lava, he clenched his fists, eyes flashing in fury. "I don't feel like playing twenty questions right now."

"Make me," Ahmon shot back. Pushing the bottle back to the bartender, he leaned closer so that their faces were an inch apart. "You're pissing me off. What am I to you? Are we cheap sex on the side when you're having a bad day?"

"If it fits," Savan replied and wasn't surprised to feel the sting of a slap on his jaw. His head whipped to the side at the force. Bringing a hand up to touch his sore lip, he spat out blood. "That's very mature of you, Ahmon."

Ahmon glared at him.

"You're right. I'm the stupid one here. Did you have a fight with your precious Liang? Is he not giving it to you?"

"Don't talk about Liang like that," Savan said with a quiet growl.

"Why not, since he's the only one who does it for you," Ahmon continued. "We should invite him the next time we end up in a dark corner together. Hmm...it would be so good."

Savan wasn't aware of having moved. One second he was trying to control the red haze in his head, the next, he was clenching fistfuls of Ahmon's black shirt and swinging his right hand in swift punches and getting back as good as he was giving.

"Stop it, Savan! Stop," Liang's voice was yelling in to his ear.

Liang wound strong arms around his torso pulling him away from a retaliating Ahmon. Savan coughed and winced when his eye stung.

"Calm down, and stop fighting me."

Savan's gaze still fixed on an angry Ahmon, he allowed Liang to pull him back until they were a few feet away. Shrugging Liang's hold away, Savan wiped a hand over his mouth and came away with a smear of blood.

"I should have known," Liang said, shaking his head in disappointment. "Ahmon of all people, you're completely shit faced."

"Liang," he said, trying to be repentant, but he could barely see the man's face.

Damn, he was drunk. The world was spinning and the ground was coming up faster than normal.

_Was it always this close_?

"Shit," Liang said.

Arms were back around his torso and he was being lead through the curious crowd.

"Ahmon, I'm sorry. Let's talk tomorrow, I gotta get him home."

"Tell..."

The words seemed to fade away. He wanted to know what Ahmon had said, but Liang led him away. They were suddenly outside. A chilly breeze hit him so hard it almost sobered him.

"You shouldn't have stopped us," Savan complained.

"I was worried about Ahmon. He would have hated injuring you more than he already has," Liang replied, keeping a tight hold as they crossed the street. "I thought you promised to be coming straight home on days like this. Instead, you run to the person who makes you spiral out of control."

"I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about it. Please, just let me pass out already, and don't wake me up in the morning."

Liang sighed, or at least it sounded like he sighed.

Savan didn't get a chance to talk about anything after that. They were back at Bovian Image. Liang took them up to the loft on the third floor using the elevator, and Savan thankfully passed out on his bed where Liang deposited him unceremoniously.

***

He woke up with a piercing headache, the blinds in his room were wide open and the sun assaulted his eyes. He tugged his sheet and pulled it higher turning on his side away from the window.

"Morning," Liang said, and his eyes flew open to see his best friend seated in an armchair leisurely going through a newspaper. "There's aspirin and a glass of water on the bedside table. I figured you'd feel like crap this morning."

Savan's gaze moved to the tall glass of water on the right bedside table, taking in the condensation on it. It was obvious it had been there for a while. He wasn't sure he should get up. Judging from Liang's pose, he was in for a long lecture.

"Sit up, Savan, we need to talk," Liang said. He folded up the newspaper and placed it on the side stool. "You were out of control last night. You almost caused a riot at Hitoiro attacking Ahmon that way."

"He deserved it." Moving slowly, careful not to jar his head, Savan sat up against the bed and reached for the aspirin and water. "Zun, these talks are getting really old. I'm not a kid."

"You should have seen yourself last night, I thought we were back in elementary school," Liang replied. "You're going to need dark glasses to cover the bruised eye. The staff will be curious."

Savan drank the medicine and pressed the half-empty glass of water on his left eye.

"What do you want to tell me?"

"I'll take over the Niad account," Liang said. "We can't afford your destructive behavior anymore. We have a few more days—"

"I agree," Savan cut in. "I was planning on exchanging with you anyway. I can't go back there one more time. I'm sorry I lost control, I was very drunk."

"Because of Mei's anniversary, your attraction to Cole Lucianne, or are you still blaming yourself for our pitiful reality?" Liang asked with a raised brow.

Surprised by the question, Savan glanced at his best friend and found warm eyes studying him intently.

No doubt seeing everything again, he thought glumly, even the worst parts of him.

Glancing away, Savan took in a deep breath and let it out in stages.

"No matter what you say, Zun, if your family had never known me, none of this would have happened. Mei would be alive, you and your mother would be running a prestigious salon somewhere in Hong Kong, instead of hiding out in all kinds of places. I ruined your lives and that will never change."

"Bullshit," Liang said.

Savan's eyes widened turning to Liang at those words.

"You want to walk around taking responsibilities for what others have done, and I can't allow that. I'm right where I want to be."

"Because you have no choice," Savan said. "If Jiro wasn't threatening your life, or your mother's life, you'd be happily living it back in Hong Kong."

"Shut up, SarEr," Liang said harshly, using the name Savan tried to forget whenever he could. "Don't you think you're taking on too much? If you keep saying you're to blame, you're going to start bruising my mother's and my pride."

"Pride," Savan said in surprise. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Liang stood up, unfolding his tall frame easily. He started pacing on bare feet along the carpeted floor. Where Savan was thin, Liang had a more muscular frame, his shoulders filled out the black Bovian Image t-shirt he wore. His hair was long to his shoulders and tied back in a low ponytail. Unlike Savan, he had no piercings, although he did have a black dragon tattoo on his left upper arm.

"Stop glaring at me and listen," Liang said. "The night we left Hong Kong, when we were in that room and Jiro's men were holding us down, I can't begin to explain how terrified I was. I wanted to blame you for Mei being in hospital, but you were so worried that you couldn't save us. I couldn't do it. When they forced guns into our mouths, I wasn't sure we would be able to escape. But we did, thanks to you."

"Zun," Savan started, not wanting to think about the past. He was having a hard time processing it lately.

"Listen up," Liang ordered. "I wish you had told me what was going on with you before Mei's assault. It couldn't have been easy worrying about your safety like that, but you tried to protect me and didn't say a word. When Jiro forced us to our knees, and asked you to decide our fate, I panicked. I was so afraid. If it had been me in your shoes, I probably would have betrayed you, SarEr."

Savan placed the glass of water on the bedside table, his hand trembling a bit.

"Jiro is a bastard; there is nothing you could do that would betray me where he is concerned, Zun."

"I'm not finished. You were born wealthy, and I wasn't, yet we were best friends. It was unexpected, and I cherished it to a point. I always thought it would reach a time where you'd leave and go away to do your father's businesses and forget my family at the little salon we owned. SarEr, you're a rich man's child who shouldn't care for people like me. So that night, I figured our lives were over. Instead, you saved us."

"Mei is dead, I couldn't save her," Savan said. "How can you call it saving when we're living in hiding like this? I'm half afraid Jiro is going to show up soon."

"You're still not getting it," Liang said, stopping in his tracks. "I owe you my life and my mom's, SarEr. I owe you, not the other way round, so stop blaming yourself."

Savan didn't move after that, he sat still watching Liang.

He'd never thought of it that way. He _couldn't_ think of it that way, not with Mei dead and Xiao Wei unable to see her precious son.

"I can't help it, Zun. You're saddled with a person like me, always causing trouble."

He leaned his head back on the headboard wondering where they were heading.

"I don't know what Jiro wants to do with your family," Liang said.

Taking back his seat, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Mom is safe for now. We have enough money saved to be able to help her if trouble came. So, the running we've been doing lately is purely you, SarEr. You are afraid of what Jiro can do, while the truth is, he should be afraid of what _you_ can do to him. I think it's time we think about making a stand. We need to understand why he doesn't want you to stay in one city. Why he doesn't want your father to find you."

"What, no," Savan exclaimed.

He didn't mean to shout out the words, but he couldn't help the panic that seized him. Facing off with Jiro was going to take more than he had right now. Savan shook his head.

"No way, he will end up finding your mother and killing her. I can't carry that around as well."

"I'm telling you to think about it," Liang said. "You're losing sight of who you are. You don't like it when I call you your real name and that should be cause for worry."

"It's better not to use it for the sake of appearances," Savan said.

Wasn't it?

If people overheard them, it would be weird. Remembering what he'd almost done with Valerie yesterday, he sighed.

"The less people remember when we leave, the safer we are in our next hide out."

"How long do you plan on running?" Liang demanded. "Can you do it the rest of your life?"

"Why are you doing this?" Savan asked with a frown. "Are you bailing on me? Is it that you want to date? Are you in love with some woman?"

"I'm more worried about you. Cole Lucianne has gotten to you, hasn't he?" Liang asked. "You're acting up because you can't do anything about him. I'm starting to think you should go for it."

"No attachments," Savan said. "Those are the rules that keep us alive. Let's stop talking about this Liang. I'll behave from now on, okay? No more fights, I promise."

Looking away from Liang, his gaze slowly moved to the sunny windows. He didn't know whom he was anymore, so how could he even think of having a relationship.

Cole Lucianne was not the type to have a quick fuck in a dark corner. Savan shuddered. No, Cole was everything else.

Pain stabbed in his heart at the thought of the man.

Why had Cole come looking for him last night?

***
Chapter Eight

"The show was a success," Antonio said with a wide smile, two mornings after the fashion show.

Cole flipped through a bunch of drawings sent to him by the junior designers.

"We have received ninety percent response from the various companies we invited last night. I'm still waiting for two more companies."

"Why do you think they are delaying?" Cole asked, looking at his older brother. "We can't allow them to back out after the stress it took to get where we were last night."

Antonio smiled.

"Relax, Gems is going to be calling us later in the day. One of their execs is a friend and he called me early this morning with the promise. Of course, I can't confirm it officially until they send in their orders. As for Takayumi Jewels, I've heard nothing."

"Takayumi is the most important in that whole bunch because of his vast in-country market share. I want in, Antonio."

"Talk to Savan," Antonio said. "He and Takayumi are the best of friends. He might be able to sway their decision back to us."

"Meaning you already know that they are choosing another fashion house for their campaign."

Cole sighed.

Dropping the designs on his desk, he stood up from his chair and walked to the large windows overlooking the city.

He suddenly couldn't help wishing for the simple days in Milan. At least then, he'd only had to worry about the state of his shop. Those memories seemed like a thousand years ago. Putting his hands into his charcoal grey slacks, he thought of Danny.

There were days Danny would run into the store in Milan with a wide grin on his face, his cheeks flushed from being out in the sun. Danny would proceed to regale his staff and their customers with his morning adventures in the park or in the market, while Cole looked on with amusement.

Life had been simple those days.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Cole savored that memory, but not too long. He couldn't indulge in that old sorrow now, no matter how much he wished. Danny wasn't here anymore and Cole was responsible for a work force of a little over seven hundred people. Niad Fashions was his life and nothing could interfere. Not even a stubborn man who refused to move with modern times.

"I'll go see Takayumi personally," Cole said. He opened his eyes and turned to look at his brother. "I'll talk him into the deal."

"Go with Savan," Antonio advised. "You will more luck swaying Takayumi with him on your side."

"Why are you insisting on using Savan?" Cole asked. "Why can't we keep it in house, you may come along if you'd like. Or, I could take Michael. He can be an asset if he wishes, or even mother."

"All good choices, but, Savan knows Takayumi. I don't know all the details, but Bovian Image has held a contract with Takayumi for as long as they've been open. Takayumi recommended Savan to us."

Cole shook his head hoping for a different solution. He wished he'd never gone looking for Savan in Harajuku. Then the sight of Savan in another man's arms wouldn't plague his nights. Rubbing his eyes, he walked back to his desk.

"I'll take Mom. Takayumi is a reasonable business man. There is no reason why he shouldn't meet with us."

"Fine, go see if you'll sway him, but don't push him. If he gets angry with us, we can kiss the whole deal goodbye."

Cole shrugged and watched his brother leave his office. He wasn't about to rely on Savan for anything, if he didn't have to.

***

Mika watched her son pace the length of their living room. Cole was like a caged animal, she thought as she lazily sipped red wine from her glass. She hadn't seen him this agitated in years.

Cole shut down emotionally after Danny's death, to the point of giving up on Cole's fashion. She'd bought the company to save it and merge it with Niad Fashions. It hadn't taken much convincing to return Cole home to Japan. She'd simply packed everything and put him in a plane. He hadn't touched a design for eight months after that.

Then one morning, she woke up to find him in the study, the floor covered with designs. She hadn't asked. She'd simply put him to work at Niad Fashions, given him something to hold on to, and he'd ran with it. The result was an international brand.

Niad Fashions surpassed what she'd envisioned. Cole was a visionary, and he worked tirelessly. Which wasn't bad for the company, but she was starting to worry about him now. She was glad for his success, but his happiness was important as well. She wished she could see him happy.

The last time she'd seen him smile genuinely was that afternoon at his store in Milan. When she'd promised to take him and Danny out for dinner, his lips had curved just so, it had reminded her so much of her husband, Raphael.

"Mom, are you listening to me?" Cole broke into her thoughts. "Why are you smiling? This is a disaster. Takayumi's demands are impossible, what kind of businessman is he? I think we should do what Michael is suggesting."

"What is that?" Mika asked with a frown.

Cole glared at her and stopped his pacing. He looked handsome today in a blue shirt, and a pair of dark blue slacks. His hair was mussed from the many times he'd run his fingers through it. Those dark eyes of his were blazing with some kind of emotion she couldn't define, but she was glad to see it.

"Replace Takayumi's company with a smaller one, and help them make their advertising campaign. The cost will be higher, but it saves my peace of mind. I refuse to work with Savan Bovian who won't work with us again, something about their contract ending, and another company taking his time. What kind of businesses are these people running?"

Mika thought about the last time she saw Savan. She couldn't understand how someone so rough and wild could create elegance and sophistication with a simple touch.

What he'd done with Yui's hair was still sending waves in their circles. Savan talked softly and that smile of his was divine, but his eyes—, she frowned. His eyes were the reason she got hostile with him. Savan's eyes were full of secrets and deep anger hidden inside.

The motorcycle didn't help at all. It was good he was walking away from Niad. She'd not missed the looks her son was giving that boy. She watched Cole resume his pacing and her frown deepened.

"The night Savan did Yui's hair, the National Hair Design Association contacted me. They wanted to include him in their next competition gala. I sent the invitation to him, and he has declined the offer. Does that make sense?"

No, but then Savan's attitude was a mystery in general. Focusing on the current problem, her thoughts went back to the dinner they'd come from with the infamous Takayumi.

They'd had a lively time at Takayumi's house. Sitting at a very long table with fifty people, eating fresh cuts of sushi and drinking _sake_ , the atmosphere had gotten very loud and rowdy. She'd been hoping for a quiet dinner where they might talk business, but—, she shook her head.

Afterward dinner, Takayumi's lawyer handed Cole their demands in an airtight contract. The contract included having Bovian Image work all the shows Takayumi and Niad put together. Takayumi specifically wanted Savan, and no one else from Bovian Image. However, one call to Savan, and he'd declined the offer.

Savan's decline was the reason why Cole seemed caught in this tornado of emotion that was driving him into a pacing frenzy on her expensive Persian rug.

"We can't walk away from Takayumi," she said.

Business wise, Takayumi Jewels was worth the trouble. Takayumi's reputation was solid and a relationship with the company would boost sales on this new campaign. Whereas a brand new company would cost them cash. One hair designer couldn't be the reason they weren't working with Takayumi.

"It will be a very public fall-out if we walk away from Takayumi Jewels. The press will crucify us for working with foreign companies and ignoring a native. Two, his market share is astounding, a younger company will be battling for his share market and he has the control right now. I'm sorry Cole, but Takayumi has us by the balls."

"Savan won't agree to work with us," Cole said, stopping in his tracks. "And, I won't beg him, Mom. I won't play that role."

"What about cajoling?" she suggested.

She might have to do some groveling as well, but only if necessary. It seemed Takayumi had a soft spot for Savan.

"Listen, I'm sure Savan only wants an apology for the stress in the past."

"Not happening," Cole said. He shook his head, and threw his arms up. "Find another company. I think the costs are worth it."

She was missing something here she thought with a little panic. There was no way her son would jeopardize business this way. Cole was always so straight, looking at the bottom line first. Niad Fashions came first with him. This should have been a breeze. Placing the half-empty glass of wine on the coffee table before her, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her lap.

"Cole," she said. "What am I missing?"

***

Cole stared at his mother for a full minute before he ran fingers through his hair and moved to an armchair across her and sat.

He was losing it, that was what she was missing.

Takayumi's dinner had driven him mad. All those people discussing Takayumi's exploits in loud voices as they ate. Plenty of those exploits seemed to include Savan. Vacations in Osaka, skiing in Sapporo, festivals all over Kyoto. Takayumi spent a lot of time with Savan.

Takayumi had insisted that if he weren't happily married to his wife, he'd go after the vulnerable, fun loving hairstylist.

Cole tried to imagine the image they were painting of Savan, and it seemed too impossible. All he got from that idiot was a cold attitude. Shaking his head, he frowned at his mother.

"It's stupid really. I can't explain it."

"You like Savan."

His mother's expression was one of certainty. Cole wondered how she could be so sure, when he wasn't. He was caught between hating the man, and wanting to strangle him.

"What if I do?" Cole asked. "Would that be bad? I haven't—,"

Cole chuckled at his indecision.

"This is stupid. I'll deal with it."

"Oh, Cole," his mother sighed. "Why can't it be any of the models that work with you at Niad, or even some boy working in the offices?"

"I don't know," Cole said, standing up. "I'll work it out, Mom. The company should be separate from my needs. I'll go see him—"

"I can talk to him," Mika cut in.

"No," Cole said, holding out his hands as he jumped up, as if to physically stop her.

The thought of that conversation—

Savan would only get angrier.

"I'll deal with this, you're forbidden from going to see him."

"What, you're not—"

"Mom, stay out of this," Cole said. "Leave Takayumi to me, I'll make sure we get the contract. Don't go down to Bovian Image."

Grabbing his suit jacket from the couch, he pulled it on and tried to return some semblance of order to his hair. Giving up, he leaned down to press a kiss on his mother's cheek. He waved her down when she moved to stand up.

"Finish your wine, Mom. I'll see myself out. We'll talk at the office tomorrow."

"Fine," Mika said.

Cole left the living room with fast strides. Outside in his black Mercedes, he stared out at the lighted perfectly manicured lawn confused about what to do next. If he went back to see Savan, he wasn't going to be able to stop his need to know more about him.

***

"Savan, Takayumi- _sensei_ insisted on having you in this new campaign. Why won't you agree?" Rina, the Bovian Image lawyer, lamented again.

She stood in the main salon floor watching Savan work on a young girl's hair.

"I gave you my answer. I'm really busy, why won't they take Liang?" Savan asked, as he sectioned off hair and trimmed the edges expertly.

He continued cutting, sending a reassuring smile to his young charge. She wanted a new look, and wasn't so sure about cutting her hair. It was taking all he had to keep her calm as she watched pieces of her hair fall to the tiled floor. Brushing out the section he'd already cut, he continued working without glancing at Rina.

"You are impossible," Rina shouted, earning curious glances from the other clients in the room.

Rina ignored them all and stood tapping a peep-toe heel on the tiled floor.

"Takayumi- _sensei_ wants you, and you know what that means. He seems to worship the ground you walk on. I don't know what that's about because I just want to fuc—,"

"Watch your language," Savan cut her off.

His concern firmly on the little girl in his chair.

"If they won't take Liang, then it's too bad. I don't have the time, Rina."

"You mean, you won't give the time," Rina said in exasperation. "I need a drink every time I deal with you."

She turned and walked off in a huff. Savan hid a smile. Glancing into the mirror, he laughed when he saw the little girl smiling with him.

"She's very cross," he said. "It makes her look terrible. You, on the other hand, are going to be even more beautiful when I'm done with you."

She grinned wider and he continued the haircut. He was just settling into the rhythm when he glanced up and saw Cole Lucianne striding into his salon as if he owned the place. Groaning under his breath, Savan hoped that he was hallucinating. He was prone to such madness, and he accepted it now, keeping his focus on the dark hair he was working on. If he ignored the sight perhaps Cole's specter might disappear.

"I know you saw me coming in," Cole said in greeting, effectively destroying his little theory.

Cole ignored his short glare and moved to lean on the wall beside the large mirror mounted on the wall above the vanity counter where his tools were. Cole looked good in a black V-neck top and matching black slacks. His feet were in the leather sandals the man liked to wear when he wasn't in the office. It was irritating that it was something he'd noticed.

Savan continued working on the girl's hair, his lips tightening into a grimace. He had been expecting this visit, but not like this. He'd hoped it would happen upstairs in his office, where he could keep his cold façade and be fine for it. It would have been even better if Cole showed up on a day Savan was out on a call.

The little girl squirmed, no doubt sensing his tension and he sighed. Ignoring his unwanted visitor, he returned his attention to the innocent child and finished cutting her hair quickly. Brushing it out, he worked styling crème into the soft strands and brushed the hair out to reveal a light, full-bodied layered cut. The little girl smiled as she moved her head from side to side and her hair fell back into the cut.

"You look gorgeous," he said, undoing the wrap around her.

Placing the wrap on the vanity table, he made sure her neck was clear of any stray hairs and handed her a stick of lip-gloss from the freebie basket on the vanity table.

"You can come in at any time, and one of the hair dressers will give it a brush for free, alright?"

"Thanks so much," she said, getting off the chair. She smiled into the mirror again. "You were right about the cut."

"Good, tell your mom to call for your next appointment," Savan said, keeping his gaze on the little girl as she said goodbye with a shy smile and hurried away.

Fighting the urge to run out of the salon, he forced his gaze back to Cole to find the man watching him intently.

It was unsettling.

"Why don't we take this up to my office?"

"No, I like watching you in your natural habitat," Cole replied. His gaze smoldering hot as he kept it firmly on Savan's face. "What happened to your eye?"

Savan glanced into the mirror and cursed the darkened skin on his left eye. It was starting to fade away but the bruise was still visible. Looking away, he took the wrap he'd used and dumped it into a laundry basket a few feet away.

"Nothing, what are you doing here?"

"Getting to know you," Cole said, looking around the salon. "I have never been inside your salon before. For a boudoir-style salon, I was expecting, bright pink colors and such, but it's very elegant and modern. You have the sumptuous glamour down to an art."

Savan shrugged and glanced around the room. There were fifteen freestanding hairstyling stations separated five feet apart. Leaving adequate walkway space for an open effect on the main floor of the salon, the furniture used was in rich purple and white colors that brightened up the place. Out in the waiting area, there were fluffy cushioned chaise lounges with dramatic chandeliers that served as overhead lighting. They'd chosen to go with the boudoir-style kind of décor because it worked for the salon's client base. He was proud of the shop, but he doubted Cole was here to discuss interior design.

"If you're here about the Takayumi deal, I really can't help you," Savan said.

He motioned for one of the free stylists to come over and clean up his station. Walking to the sink, he washed his hands and wiped them on a clean towel.

"I'm engaged elsewhere."

"I thought you might say that," Cole said, crossing his arms against his chest. With a casual shrug, he gave Savan a short smile. "Are you trying to make a point?"

"No point," Savan said, throwing the towel into the laundry bin as well. "Bovian Image has offered you a solution. Liang is available. If you're not willing to take it, I don't see how we can compromise."

"Takayumi is insisting on having you," Cole said, his gaze narrowed.

Savan felt like he was facing a firing squad. He refused to feel intimidated, moving to stand before Cole.

Why couldn't the man take no for an answer?

His gaze caught movement through the mirror: two junior stylists were watching them curiously.

Savan cursed under his breath.

"I'll double the fee," Cole said abruptly, still lounging against the wall. "Send Liang to the people you're working with. You can't say no to that kind of money, you'd have to be a very stupid businessman."

Motioning for them to leave the main floor, Savan led the way out through a side door. Cole followed, his steps slow. He was in no hurry to leave. No doubt, he had it in his mind to leave only when he had the answer he wanted.

"I can't break a promise I've given to another client just because Niad Fashions needs me."

"Let's get one thing straight," Cole said. "I don't need you, Savan. Takayumi needs you."

"I'm glad we have that straight."

Savan stopped in the hallway. Facing Cole, he gave him a dazzling smile.

"Then this should be easy for you to understand. I am not available. You're going to have to use Liang. Now, if there is nothing else, I have to go."

"What is it with you?" Cole asked, grabbing Savan's left arm, stopping him from walking away. "I came to ask in person. I'm offering you more money than the project is really worth. What the hell is the problem?"

"There is no problem," Savan said, shrugging away Cole's arm.

Savan couldn't tell Cole that he wanted to stay away from him.

That he needed to stay away, he sighed.

"Please, leave it alone, Cole. I'll talk to Takayumi, he'll work with Liang."

"Fine, what if I said I want _you_ in the project?" Cole asked. "I don't care what Takayumi wants. If I asked you to work on this project, would you?"

"You don't really know what you want, Lucianne." Savan took a few steps closer to Cole and looked up into very dark eyes. "Maybe, I can make this easier for you. I don't want to work with you. I hate your temper. Your mother is a crazy bitch, and frankly your type of people rub me the wrong way."

"Then I'll hold your reputation hostage," Cole said, his temper close to short circuiting.

Savan hid a smile, wondering how much longer he had before sedate Cole was gone and the crazy Cole was in-house.

"I don't care about that," Savan said, nodding back the way they'd come. "The salon is full, that's more than enough. Who needs your business?"

"You're trying to provoke me. My fists are itching to meet your jaw, but that bruise on your eye—"

"Do it," Savan dared him. "It will give me a chance to hit you right back."

Cole grabbed him by his upper arms, forcing their bodies together.

_Boy was Cole tall_ , Savan thought, numb with shock.

Time seemed to move in a slow warped pace, and before he could even begin to protest, warm lips pressed against his. He brought his hands up to push Cole away, but the grip on his upper arms, tightened and he was against the wall.

_When had they moved?_

A hard kiss took over all his senses, holding him hostage in the hallway as a burning raging lust coursed through his body.

***

Chapter Nine

His first instinct was to fight Cole off as the man held him pinned against the wall. The kiss was hard, unrelenting, and before it could go further, Savan pushed against Cole's chest.

Cole wouldn't have it. He shackled Savan's wrists and pinned them above Savan's head so that he was now Cole's unwilling prisoner.

Savan could barely breathe.

He felt like he was drowning. Everything inside him focused on Cole's tongue sliding against his, playing with every nerve ending in his body. Heat flooded his body, his cock hardened. He melted— _melted_ —into Cole's warmth. Eyes closed as Cole plundered his mouth in the middle of the hallway in his very busy salon.

It wasn't a gentle kiss.

Cole kissed with remorseless passion and aggression. He was in control and it scared the hell out of Savan. He was losing himself under Cole's assault. He trembled with need and the feeling had him jerking his head back in terror.

"Get off me," Savan said, irritated when he heard how strained his voice was.

His body was screaming for release, his heart hammering with fear at the fierce intensity of his need. Savan clung to his self-control, barely.

"Let go of me Cole and get the hell out of my business. I never want to see you again."

Cole chuckled, tightening his hold on Savan's wrists.

Savan's gaze was drawn to those sensuous lips, curved now into a slight smile.

"Don't you think you're overreacting? A moment ago, your body was melting into mine, asking for more. Begging—"

"Get off me right now," Savan cut him off, mortified by his reaction to a simple kiss. "You're not the one to satisfy any needs I may have. I doubt you could manage. I'll have to go across the street when you leave and work it out of my system with Ahmon Sanori."

"Don't," Cole snapped, his eyes darkening with anger. "Don't say another word."

"Can't take the reality?" Savan asked, feeling reckless.

He was never going to let this thing happen again. It was too much; too hot, too delicious, too complicated—

"I don't need you to satisfy my needs, Cole. I don't need this."

Cole let go of him and stepped away, his fingers clenched, clearly trying to remain calm.

Savan wished Cole would lose it. He needed to destroy any faith between them, cleanly finish any connection they had.

Cole turned away from him and Savan sagged against the wall taking in deep breaths.

The feel of Cole kiss—

He shook his head. He'd had kisses before from other lovers, hell, he'd been kissing Ahmon a few nights ago, why hadn't he felt like this?

Pressing a fist to his lips, his gaze on Cole's tense broad shoulders, he resolved to end this for good. Straightening up, he stepped away from the wall.

"I think it's better if we don't see each other anymore."

"Better for whom?" Cole asked, turning to look at him. "For you and that bastard boyfriend of yours? Isn't he the reason why you have that bruise on your eye? Is that the kind of thing you prefer?"

"My life is my business, and you're not in it, so piss off," Savan said.

Cole's conclusion disturbed him a bit, he didn't like that the man could so easily guess how he'd gotten the bruise. That he hadn't even talked to Ahmon about it made him feel worse.

"Please, just leave."

Cole narrowed his gaze at him.

Savan wished someone would interrupt this little volcano. A quick glance up and down the hallway disappointed him. Where was the nosy Richie when he needed him?

"If I leave without your consent to work with Takayumi, your staff is getting a negative press campaign. I'll make sure no one can trust them with a pair of scissors in this town."

"You wouldn't dare."

"I don't bluff," Cole said with a raised brow. "I won't hesitate, Savan. Unless you give me what I want, I'll go after every employee you have in this salon. I'm very capable, don't doubt it."

"Go ahead and do it," Savan said, although he wasn't sure he should be pushing like this. They couldn't afford any kind of publicity. He guarded his and Liang's privacy fiercely, and Cole knew that. "What do you think it will get you?"

"Don't pretend not to care about your business, Savan. I know it matters to you what happens to Bovian Image. Takayumi and I will be having the first meeting tomorrow at ten o'clock. You had better be in that conference room."

"Bastard," Savan cursed as Cole turned and left without another word.

Letting out a harsh sigh, he slapped a palm against the wall.

***

The next morning, Savan sat on his motorcycle outside the Niad Fashions Building staring at the entrance doors with disparagement. He wished he could drive off, but Liang hadn't given him a choice.

_Their way of life didn't give him a choice_ , he thought.

None of them could afford any kind of press sniffing around the salon. Pulling off his helmet, he ran fingers through his hair and glanced around the parking lot.

Cole was playing a dangerous game. That kiss in the hallway, as good as it had been, couldn't happen again. Getting off the motorcycle, Savan locked it and grabbed the helmet. He was walking up the short stairs to the glass entrance doors when a hand on his shoulder made him turn around.

"I can never surprise you," Takayumi said with a wide grin.

Savan couldn't help returning the smile at the sight of the older man.

Dressed in a gray t-shirt and matching slacks, long hair down his back in a ponytail topped off with a gray fedora hat, Takayumi looked impossibly handsome.

Savan couldn't help the laugh when he was pulled into a tight hug right there on the stairs.

"You've been neglecting me," Takayumi complained, his tone warm. "My wife thinks you've found someone to occupy your time. I told her that you were pining away for me. Which one is it?"

" _Sensei_ , I think I'll go with the second one. But if I do, you can't tell your wife, she'll have my head."

"Good boy," Takayumi said, reaching up to mess up Savan's hair. "I see you are still wearing your wild reckless nature."

Takayumi tugged on the blonde fringe falling over Savan's eye.

Savan blushed at the keen gaze studying him. Takayumi gave him a thorough inspection then shook his head in disappointment.

"You're not taking care of yourself, you're too skinny."

"I'm fine," Savan said, moving back a few steps with a shrug. "Just really busy, I promise to come and visit the family soon. We can drink into the night."

"It might be sooner than you think," Takayumi replied, motioning for them to continue into the building. "I saw you watching these doors. I suspect you're not happy with my demands."

"I'm not thrilled," Savan said honestly. "I wish you'd take Liang, I need not to be here."

"Is it the young designer?" Takayumi asked, with a wink. "He has a soft spot for you, I've seen it. I couldn't resist."

"I should have known what you were doing." Savan groaned when they were in the lobby. "Can I convince you to stop this game?"

"You're my friend, Savan," Takayumi said, as they walked to the elevators. "I look after my friends. I think you two will be perfect for this campaign. So, indulge an old man, I'm getting bored living a life of luxury. I need drama."

"Your wife provides you with plenty," Savan scoffed. "And what old are you talking about. Can a forty-something man really claim such a thing?"

"You wound me," Takayumi said, with a smirk as the elevator dinged its arrival. "Do you need me to find a cane so that you can believe me?"

Savan chuckled and followed the impossible man into the elevator.

"No cane for you, _Sensei_. You owe me for this one. That young designer you're so fond of is driving me crazy. This is going to be like hell for me."

"I doubt that," Takayumi replied mysteriously. "Give it a chance, Savan. Now, tell me about Liang. Is he still running after all the young fillies in your salon?"

"No one calls women fillies, Taka," Savan said with a laugh.

***

Despite his reservations on the campaign, Savan found that he was happy to be included in the project. Niad Fashions and Takayumi Jewelry were running a publicity campaign, combining fabric with jewelry made of precious stones.

Takayumi would design the jewelry while Cole's team would create the clothes to match the jewelry. The conceptual designs, which were a preview of Niad's coming line, would have a fashion show in four weeks.

Savan would be responsible for finding the models and styling.

Savan found himself buried in a frenzy of preparation immediately after that first meeting. Four weeks wasn't long enough to prepare such a high profile show. Auditioning models, meeting with Takayumi and going over his ideas, and then heading to Niad to consult with the designers. Savan barely had time to think about the reason why he was in the project at all.

A week and a half into preparation, Savan sat in the Niad cafeteria busy going through the pictures of models he'd met, when a shadow fell over the table.

Glancing up, he frowned when he saw Cole standing there.

"You're blocking the light," he said, when Cole didn't move.

"You've been ignoring me for almost two weeks. How do you do that?"

"It's easy. Let me demonstrate," Savan replied.

He returned his attention to the pictures on the table and proceeded to mark the ones he wanted to see again.

"I'm sorry I threatened you," Cole said, after a moment. Savan couldn't help rolling his eyes at that apology. "I wouldn't have done it."

"How was I to know you wouldn't do it?" Savan asked, shuffling pictures and putting them on a slush pile on his right. He reached for a new pile on his left. "Go bother someone else. Don't you have designers to yell at?"

Cole pulled a chair out and sat. Picking up a picture from the discard pile, he stared at it before he returned it.

"Can't we talk for a bit?"

"Unless it's about the project, I have nothing to say to you."

"There is a lot to say," Cole said, leaning his elbows on the table. "I want to know more about you."

"I don't want to tell you," Savan replied, abandoning the pictures and sitting back in his seat.

His gaze drunk in Cole's handsome face, his eyes falling on soft lips, the memory of them moving over his own had him looking away.

"Why won't you stop this?"

"I have a theory," Cole said ignoring his question. "Don't you want to hear it?"

"I'm sure you'll tell me whether I want to hear it or not."

Cole smiled.

"My theory is that you push people away because you are afraid to care too much. To cover your soft side, you keep up this rough facade, but I can see right through it now."

"You see nothing," Savan said, shaking his head. "Now can you go away so that I finish working here? I have to meet Liang back at the salon for a client consultation."

"I promise to leave when you answer three questions," Cole said, reaching for another photograph. He studied it for a moment then placed it on the slush pile. Glancing at Savan, he lifted a brow in amusement.

"Don't you want me to leave?"

"Fine, if it will get you away from me," Savan replied.

Cole smiled, and once again, that helpless need to stare at those lips overtook Savan. That stupid simple kiss was ruining his life.

"Are you really dating Ahmon Sanori?"

Folding his arms over his chest, Savan toyed with the idea of lying to the man, but he found he couldn't. Thinking up a lie was too much work, so he opted for the truth.

"No."

Cole beamed.

Savan frowned.

Dark eyes shone with pleasure, that smile showed up again sending all the blood in his head down to his cock. He wasn't sure he could walk out of the cafeteria without embarrassing himself.

"I like kissing you," Cole declared, tilting his head to the side. "I've been thinking about our kiss for days now, it's driving me crazy. Are you thinking about it?"

"No."

Savan was glad they were the only people in the cafeteria. The rate at which his pulse was beating right now bordered on critical. His erection was threatening to rip the zip on his pants. Savan let out a silent breath and moved his chair back from the table. Cole was doing this deliberately.

"You're lying to me. Your pulse is fast, I can see it at your neck. It's tempting actually, that pulse there, if I press my lips to it, I wonder if you'd moan. The sound of your moan is very erotic to me, did you know that?"

"What's the last question?" Savan asked, fighting the need to run out of the room.

Cole was turning into a little devil. Not little, he adjusted his thoughts when Cole grinned knowingly at him.

"You're a monster."

"At least I'm honest with myself," Cole said, leaning back in his seat. "Will you go out with me?"

"No," Savan replied.

Standing up, Savan gathered the files on the table.

Cole pushed his chair back and moved around the table. Crowding Savan against the windows, he pressed his palms on the cool glass trapping Savan with his body. He was so close Savan could see the length of Cole's lashes.

"This again," Savan complained. "You have a problem with personal space."

"You answered no to all my questions. Two of those answers are wrong. I only believe the first answer."

"Maybe I was lying about that first one as well," Savan said with a small smile.

"I don't think so," Cole said, studying his lips. "Savan, stop pushing me away. I might start stalking you at this rate."

"Aren't you already?" Savan asked, his hands coming up to rest on Cole's waist when Cole pressed his body against his. The feel of him was more than enough to make Savan wish for more, but they were in a public place. It was mid-afternoon, and everyone was working. "Do you have a fetish for walls? You keep pushing me into them."

"This is not a wall. These are windows," Cole replied in a soft tone. "Besides, you like it even though you keep trying to push me away."

Cole leaned his head down and Savan couldn't help but watch Cole's lips move closer. He fisted the back of Cole's shirt, ready to pull him away, but then Cole's lips brushed against his. His eyes slid closed. Cole didn't disappoint him. Capturing his lips in a deep kiss that had him clinging to Cole. The kiss was hot, needy, it made him breathless.

Cole pulled away slowly.

"I think that it's best to take away the decision-making in this relationship from you. We'll follow what I want for now until you stop fighting me."

"What relationship?" Savan asked, blinking up at Cole. "Who told you that I'd agree to do anything?"

"I'll pick you up at eight o'clock tonight. Dress nice, I'm sure you have something better than ratty old jeans in your closet. We're going on a date. Feel free to tell that Ahmon and Liang about it. If you're not ready, Savan, I'll come up to your loft and dress you myself."

Stepping away, Cole grinned, a wide show of teeth, before he turned on his heel and left the cafeteria in quick strides.

Savan was left leaning on the windows staring after him in surpris2e.

**

"Where are we going?" Savan asked gruffly from the passenger seat.

Cole hid a smile at the irritated tone and adjusted his seat belt. He hadn't been sure Savan would be ready, so he'd been pleasantly surprised to find Savan waiting in the lobby at Bovian Image.

Savan looked impeccable in black: it seemed to be his favorite color. The jacket over a black shirt and slacks clung to his body to perfection. At some point after he'd seen him in the cafeteria, Savan had changed his hair. The fringe over his eye was black now, and the number of earrings at his ear had reduced to two. He was so handsome.

"Watch where you're driving," Savan said in amusement.

"You look good enough to eat. Maybe I should drive back to my apartment and we can just get on with it," Cole suggested with a sly smile.

"I have no idea what you mean by getting on with it."

"Don't tell me you're a virgin," Cole said in mock surprise as he geared the car.

They were on the highway now. Settling in his seat, Cole spared Savan a glance.

"I could have sworn you had experience."

Savan chuckled.

"Do you wish I was a virgin? That way, it would be easier to take advantage of me?"

"I'd love to take advantage of you," Cole said. "But you're so hard headed you won't let me do it. Maybe after I get you drunk you'll let me. I need you wanting me as much as I want you, Savan."

Savan gave him an annoyed glance and turned to stare out his window. Cole hid a smile at the reaction. He was glad for the progress, although he hadn't imagined that it would take almost two weeks to get this close.

Two weeks of hell, he grimaced at the memory of it. Dreams of a writhing Savan, moaning and screaming his name in ecstasy every night were torture. It wasn't enough to have Savan sitting beside him, Cole thought. He wasn't going to be satisfied until Savan felt the same maddening need for him.

***

Chapter Ten

They had dinner at an exclusive restaurant in Daiba. Seated across Cole, sipping Merlot, Savan suddenly realized why he was afraid of Cole.

Cole was everything he didn't have in his life.

Savan watched him complimenting the house chef on a fabulous meal. Cole was a self-assured gentleman, comfortable with who he was, his work, his family. Savan envied him that.

Cole glanced at him with an intimate smile meant to share secrets. Savan returned it as the chef offered to bring out their dessert right away.

"Make it something decadent," Cole said, his gaze fixed on Savan. "I want to make sure I get my date thoroughly steeped in bliss tonight."

Savan shook his head in amusement and watched the chef hurry off to do Cole's bidding.

"I wasn't expecting this kind of date."

"What kind of date were you expecting?" Cole asked.

The atmosphere in the restaurant was intimate. Their table secluded in a candle lit corner. Cole glanced around the quiet restaurant before he continued.

"I want to earn your trust, Savan. I know we haven't had the best of relationships. I'm sorry for that."

"I didn't know that you had a side like this," Savan said with a smile.

Tracing the soft fabric of their tablecloth, Savan shook his head.

"I don't know if I can do this. The longest relationship I've had is with my motorcycle. I wouldn't know the—"

"Don't say anymore," Cole said, capturing Savan's hand in his. He tangled their fingers. "I haven't wanted to be with anyone in years."

Savan chuckled.

"Are you telling me you've lived like a monk?"

"No, hardly that," Cole said. "I'm telling you that you're the first I've wanted to have more with in a longtime."

"Here I thought you just wanted me in your bed," Savan said.

Meeting Cole's gaze, Savan couldn't help wishing that he could be the person Cole wanted. He wanted to allow himself this one chance to let someone know him even a little bit. Maybe it would be all right.

"Cole—"

Savan broke off.

"I told you that your opinion won't count in this relationship because you're so conflicted. I see it in your eyes."

Cole stroked the fringe of dark hair falling over Savan's eyes with his free hand, pushing it away.

"You're like one of those Chinese puzzle boxes we get when we're kids. I would spend hours trying to move the pieces so that I could get the picture right."

"What if I can't be figured out?" Savan asked, he couldn't help wondering what would happen when he had to leave.

Jiro Nang's men were bound to show up. They always did. When that time came, would he be able to walk away from Cole?

"Can't we take this one day at a time? Don't label us. Don't try to make us more. I'm attracted to you. Can't we keep it that way?"

"Is that important to you?" Cole asked.

"It is," Savan said, looking down at their intertwined fingers.

Cole's hand was larger than his was, and warm. It felt reassuring to have Cole holding him like this. He'd forgotten what that felt like. He'd forgotten what it felt to be comforted.

"I—I need you to take this one day at a time."

"If I promise that, will you come home with me tonight?" Cole asked.

Cole leaned forward closing the distance between them. He pressed his lips against Savan's and kissed him slowly, thoroughly. Pulling back, he sat back in his chair and smiled.

"I'd like it if you said yes, Savan. I might turn into a crazy person if I don't have you."

Savan chuckled, still holding on to Cole's hand. He licked his lips and shook his head ruefully. This was going to come back to bite him but he wasn't strong enough to let it go. He nodded his assent to Cole.

"After I get my dessert, I'll let you have me anyway you want. Bring it on, Lucianne."

"Are you serious?" Cole asked in surprise.

His eyes so wide, Savan couldn't help chuckling. It was even funnier when Cole got up abruptly and rushed away.

Left alone at the table, Savan sighed and shook his head.

_What are you doing, SarEr_?

He was going against all the rules, but he couldn't stop even if he wanted. He wanted to know what it would feel like to have Cole. He needed to feel more than the fear in the deepest part of him.

He was so tired of being terrified.

Rubbing his eyes, Savan reached for the Merlot and took a sip. Cole appeared carrying a brown bag and Savan couldn't help smiling when he realized what was in the bag. Placing his glass on the table, he watched Cole stride toward him.

"Come on," Cole said. "We're good to go."

"What about my dessert?"

"I have you covered, come on," Cole urged.

Savan stood and placed his napkin on the table. Cole tugged his elbow and led him out of the restaurant. Outside, Cole led them to his car. He unlocked it but before Savan could enter the passenger side, Cole placed the bag he was holding on top of the car and stopped him.

"What?"

"Are you sure about this?" Cole asked.

Wrapping an arm around Savan's waist, Cole pulled him in close.

"I need you to be sure, Savan. This is not going to be a one night stand. We're in for the long ride, and I can't have you backing out—"

Savan smiled and leaned in this time.

Cole was taller than him, and he reveled in that little fact as their bodies came together, in a heated embrace. His hands slid up to Cole's shoulders, before he wrapped them around Cole's neck. Cole retaliated by wrapping his own around Savan's waist, holding him tight so that he could feel Cole's erection pressing against his stomach. Savan rose up so that he could kiss Cole. Using his tongue, he licked at Cole's lips gently, before he plunged into the hot decadence that was Cole's mouth. Savoring Cole's taste, he closed his eyes, losing himself in their kiss, and Cole pressed him against the car.

Cole reached under his jacket and pulled up the black shirt Savan wore. Sliding his hands under it, Savan gasped at the contact of Cole's hands on his skin. Those searching fingers caressed his back. He clung to Cole when one hand slid down to his hips, and moved to undo his belt.

"Cole," Savan gasped pulling away from their heated kisses.

His brain was not functioning too well. The urge to give in to this heated assault was weakening any inhibitions he might have. Cole trailed kisses along his jaw to his ear, nibbling as he continued to unbuckle Savan's belt.

"Hey, we are in a very public parking lot," Savan managed, closing his eyes when Cole clamped his mouth on a spot on his neck and proceeded to suck.

Little electric tingles raced down his spine.

"It's dark, no one can see us." Cole licked at the spot on his neck as his fingers finally accomplished their goal. He unzipped Savan's trousers, and slipped a hand inside searching for his erection. "I want to feel how hard you are."

"If you touch me, I'm going to explode," Savan warned burying his face into Cole's shoulder when he felt Cole's fingers close over him. Biting his lip, he closed his eyes as those hot fingers grasped his cock. "Oh, gods, please—"

"That is heady," Cole murmured, as he started stroking: up and down, his thumb running over the swollen head, his thumb spreading pre-cum. "I like it when you beg. Do some more."

It was a delicious kind of agony. Savan's fingers curled into Cole's jacket, gripping tightly as his hips moved along with Cole's stroking. As if to torture him even more, Cole moved his free around to his ass, kneading him, driving him crazy, he was on the brink when Cole stopped.

It took a minute for it to register, until he felt the zip of his pants being pulled up over his aching erection, pre-cum soaked his underwear, he could barely breath without shaking. Cole was calmly buckling his belt as if he didn't notice Savan's needy state.

"Why did you stop?" Savan demanded when he could.

"I'm not taking you in the middle of the street." Cole opened the passenger door and motioned for Savan to enter. "Come on, Savan, get in. If you want us to finish this, you're going to need to move."

Savan narrowed his gaze at the bastard, unable to take a step from where he was leaning on the car. He was so hard he was afraid one rub of his pants against his cock and he was going to disgrace himself. Shaking, he let out a deep breath, and met smiling dark eyes.

"You're a tease," he accused a smiling Cole.

Savan slid into the car with a suppressed groan and took the bag Cole handed him. Cole closed the door and hurried around the car. This was going to be a very long night; he decided when Cole joined him. He knew that because a savage need to lean over and keep kissing Cole surged over him like a fever. He had to grip the bag on his lap tightly to keep from giving in.

***

"You're beautiful," Cole murmured into the quiet room.

His hot gaze moved over Savan's naked body. Savan lay on his white sheets, that dark hair on his pillows, he could sit here watching him for hours.

"I can't believe you're here."

Savan smiled and reached up with a slender hand to caress his jaw. Cole leaned into the touch, holding those fingers against his jaw. He pressed a kiss into Savan's palm. Letting Savan's hand fall back to the bed, Cole moved between Savan's open legs, his gaze pausing on the evidence of Savan's arousal.

Savan's cock was hard against his abdomen and leaking. Cole traced his finger over the length of it, enjoying the sound of Savan's harsh breath. Refusing to offer any more relief, he placed his palms against Savan's abdomen, sliding them up in a slow massage. Savan's eyes closed and his body tensed. Cole dusted kisses along Savan's stomach to his chest. He paid attention to the hard nipples. Suckling and biting the hard nubs until Savan was moaning in pleasure. Savan's fingers tangled in his hair and he doubled his efforts when Savan arched into his mouth, wanting more.

He blew on the hard nubs before he captured Savan's mouth in a hard kiss. Sucking on Savan's tongue, he took Savan's nipples with his fingers, caressing them, driving them both mad as Savan writhed underneath him.

"Please," Savan begged at some point when he'd kissed every inch of his body but where he needed it the most. "Please, Cole."

Gods, he loved it when Savan begged. Gripping Savan's hips, Cole kissed his way down to Savan's erection. Running a hand over Savan's left thigh, he pushed it out opening him more.

That's when he saw the two scars on the inside of Savan's thigh. He studied the raised scars for a moment before he pressed a kiss on one, then the other. Savan whimpered a sweet sound between need and surprise. He glanced up to find Savan staring at him with an unreadable expression.

Cole swirled his tongue over the sensitive skin again, making Savan's breath hitch, smiling he continued the gentle assault to Savan's cock. He took Savan's cock in to his mouth, making sure not to graze him with his teeth. He alternated between slow licks, bathing Savan's cock with liquid fire, and then sucking on him hard. Minutes into it, Savan came in a furious orgasm that had him trembling, his fingers bunching the sheets with a shout.

Cole swallowed his cum and kept sucking on him until he was done. Savan threw his arm over his flushed face. Cole stroked his cock one last time, and moved to lay over Savan, his own erection pressing into Savan's stomach.

Savan pulled him into his arms, wrapping his legs around Cole's waist. He accepted Cole's kiss, tasting himself. His cock hardening again, he clung to Cole.

"Take me," he said quietly.

Kissing him, Cole shook his head.

"Not tonight, I want you ready for that."

"I'm ready right now," Savan said hotly, his face buried into Cole's neck. "Do it."

"No," Cole said gently, rolling them to the side.

He reached for Savan's hand and drew it to his erection. Fisting it on his cock, he kissed Savan and smiled.

"I want more from you, and you're not ready to give it. Until that time, we're going to make do with this."

"Cole—"

Savan started.

"Savan," Cole countered, closing his eyes as Savan started jerking him off slowly.

Cole groaned when Savan pushed him to his back and leaned down to take him into his mouth. Savan tried his best to take in his erection. Gripping the base in one hand, he proceeded to suck, lick and stroke in a frenzy that had Cole tangling his fingers in Savan's thick dark hair. When it got too much, he came so hard, he couldn't help the shout of ecstasy that escaped. Breathing hard, he opened his eyes to watch Savan keep sucking and licking at him until there was no more to give.

They took a long shower after that and then returned to bed. Once they were under the covers, Cole pulled Savan into his arms and they lay holding each other.

"Cole," Savan said.

"Hmm," Cole replied lazily.

"Why didn't you—"

Savan stopped.

Turning away from Cole, he clung to his pillow, his slender body trembling slightly.

Cole ran his hand down Savan's tense back. Pushing the covers down to reveal Savan's bare body, he traced his palm down to Savan's left leg. Savan lifted his head to follow the progress of Cole's hand. Cole stopped his caress when he got to the two scars he'd seen earlier. Tracing his index finger over them, Cole propped his head up with his right hand and met Savan's gaze.

"If I were to ask you how you got these scars, would you tell me the truth?" Cole asked.

Savan gasped. His gaze returning to the finger tracing his scars, he closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I got them a while back. I was at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"You can't tell me the real truth, can you?" Cole squeezed Savan's thigh gently.

He reached for the covers and covered them. Savan lay back on his pillow his gaze on Cole.

"I told you I want to earn your trust. I warned you this wasn't going to be fast sex. Having you here is enough for me, Savan."

***

Savan lay with his head propped up on his right hand, his gaze fixed on Cole's sleeping figure. The night lamp in the corner cast shadows in the room, but it gave off enough light for him to see Cole's face. Cole looked younger in slumber, Savan thought. The curly hair tumbled all over his head, falling over his face.

Savan used his free hand to touch the silky strands, rubbing them between his fingers enjoying the soft texture. He tugged at a curl and smiled when it bounced right back.

Remembering what Cole had done to him earlier, he sighed at the fact that he was in bed with a man who'd refused to take him based on earning his trust. He'd had only one man take him in his lifetime.

_Han_.

He and Ahmon fooled around, never going further than heavy petting, but with Cole—Savan closed his eyes.

He wanted Cole more than he had ever wanted Han. With Han, he'd been exploring who he was. Those days, he'd needed to satisfy his needs and cravings. The lust Han fanned to life and spent hours slaking was empty compared to what he felt now with Cole.

It was madness.

Savan opened his eyes and lay back staring at the ceiling. He shouldn't be here contemplating deepening this thing. If he allowed this relationship, it was going to take him over. All those emotions Cole evoked with a touch made him pause.

He wasn't sure he could allow this to continue, not now, not ever, not while he couldn't even give Cole his real name.

Nope...that wasn't it.

The truth was that if he did allow himself to remain here, he would give Cole his real name. He wanted that chance.

He should run.

Sitting up abruptly, his gaze found the clock on the bedside table. It was twelve o'clock at night. Liang was probably at the loft, or may be at Club Hitoiro. Glancing back at Cole, Savan was happy to see him still sleeping.

Sliding out of bed slowly, Savan reached for his pants on the floor and pulled them on. He wore his t-shirt and jacket, keeping a wary eye on Cole. Finding his socks, he skipped around as he pulled them on. When he was done, he paused at the edge of the bed. He was an idiot who couldn't leave without touching Cole. Savan leaned over Cole with a heart that was spiraling out of control and brushed a soft kiss on Cole's forehead.

An hour later, he let himself in to the loft at Bovian Image, closing the door with a huge sigh. He took off his shoes and left them lying haphazardly at the entrance before he walked into the living room. Shrugging his jacket off, he dumped it on a stool and dropped into the couch with a tired sigh.

"How was the date?" Liang asked.

Lifting his head, Savan glanced around the room to find Liang settled on the couch across him. Liang was watching a soccer game. He hadn't even realized the television was on. Shaking his head, Savan pushed a pillow under his head and closed his eyes.

"You didn't go out tonight?"

"No," Liang said. "I didn't feel like it. What's wrong?"

"There is nothing wrong," Savan said, refusing to think about the reason why he was feeling so guilty.

Cole wouldn't forgive him tomorrow morning when he woke up alone. All that stuff Cole had talked about, the man should know how big his trust issues were. The wine at dinner must have allowed him to buy into the idea of Cole.

He should never have—

A pillow hit his head and he glanced at Liang with a frown.

"That good huh," Liang said with a laugh. "You're glowing, what the hell did he do to you?"

"I could give you the details," Savan shot back glumly.

"Spare me," Liang said, raising a hand in surrender. "You had better wipe that expression off right now. You know the rules."

"I'm so tired of them." Savan pressed his right palm to his head. "Liang, don't you ever just want to give in sometimes. What's the worst that can happen?"

"You die," Liang replied bluntly. "What is going on with you lately?"

"I don't know." Savan sighed and sat up. "I'm going to bed. I'm taking a day off tomorrow. I think I need to get my head on straight. I also need to make sure we're set in case something happens. I'm feeling uneasy these days."

"If you're uneasy, Savan, what's with you and Lucianne?" Liang asked. "He'll be in danger if you keep at this."

"I'm handling it," Savan said, although he really had no idea how.

What was he supposed to do about the decisions his body made under duress? Yes, he was getting careless, but weren't they already careless by running such a big business?

"Goodnight, Liang."

"Good night."

In his own bed, Savan could barely sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could think about was Cole swirling his tongue over the scars on his left thigh. Kissing those scars that he'd gotten on the run, sitting up, he pushed the covers away. It was so hot that he was sweating. Damn it, he couldn't sleep.

Running frustrated fingers through his hair, Savan leaned against the headboard. He wanted Cole, all right. He wanted that love that man was so willing to share, but where was it going to leave them both when things got bad? Cole could end up dead like Mei.

Everyone who got close ended up that way. Imagining Cole losing everything he cared for, Savan closed his eyes trying to ward off that kind of pain.

It wouldn't be right.

Savan spent the rest of the night tossing and turning in bed. When he couldn't stay put anymore, he got up and prowled the loft hoping for sleep.

In the morning, Savan sat in the kitchen eating a bowl of fruit. His eyes were gritty from lack of sleep, and a large mug of coffee sat at his elbow. He was hoping that it would help jump start his energy. Chewing on a slice of banana, he started planning his day.

The automatic lock at the front door beeped and he glanced up wondering what Liang had forgotten. Picking up his mug, he took a sip, his gaze on the kitchen entrance as he anticipated seeing Liang.

When Cole walked in, Savan forgot all about his coffee as he took in the dark expression on his lover's face.

"How could you leave like that?" Cole demanded. "Not even a note."

***

Chapter Eleven

After waking up alone in a bed he was sure he'd occupied with Savan, it had felt necessary to drive down to Bovian Image to make sure he hadn't been hallucinating last night. Savan had felt real, and so perfect. Parking his car, Cole stared at the time on the dashboard and sighed.

It was six-thirty in the morning. The salon wasn't open yet. He got out of the car and stalked to the front door. The glass doors were locked.

_Great,_ he sighed.

Cole knocked on the glass, searching for a doorbell with his gaze, anything to get the occupants' attention.

When he found no doorbell, he used the tip of his car key to tap on the glass. He figured if he kept at it long enough, he might annoy someone enough to come checking. He rather hoped that it would be Savan. The satisfaction of that would be welcome right now.

How could Savan leave without even a good bye? A note maybe, a text message, even a tap on his back.

"Cole, this way."

Cole stopped his tapping on the glass to glance to his right.

Liang stood at the corner of the building leaning lazily against the wall. He was dressed in sweat pants and a sleeveless t-shirt.

"Come on already, you might get arrested beating down the business doors that way."

Cole hurried after Liang only after he rounded the corner did he see the hidden side entrance. He entered the building and Liang pulled the door closed. The lock engaged automatically.

"Morning," Liang said, leading the way down a well lit hallway to a service hallway. "What brings you here this early? Did your house burn down?"

"Very funny," Cole sighed, as they boarded the elevator. "I need to see Savan."

"Is it something to do with work?" Liang asked, watching the elevator doors close.

Liang didn't press any buttons on the console. Liang leaned on the wall and kept his gaze on Cole clearly expecting an answer to his question.

"No, this is personal," Cole replied, leaning on the opposite wall. It looked like he was in for a third degree from the best friend. "Does that bother you?"

"Actually, yes it does," Liang replied without hesitation. "Savan came back last night looking more than disturbed. Then you're here in the morning looking troubled as well."

"How is this any of your business?" Cole asked with a frown.

What he did with Savan was private. He didn't appreciate people meddling in his private affairs. It didn't matter that he was angry at Savan right now, there was no way he was going to allow a comment against what they had together.

"The wheels are already turning in your head," Liang cut into his thought process. "I'm not against the nature of your relationship, Cole. I know everything about Savan and it doesn't bother me one bit. What does bother me is you, Cole. I think you should walk away."

Cole frowned surprised by that last statement.

Was Liang warning him off?

A laugh bubbled up and he shook his head at the absurd idea.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"No," Liang said, his tone alerting Cole to the severity of the situation.

Liang wasn't joking. He was dead serious. Cole was being warned off!

"I think you should tell me where Savan is and he can include his opinion."

"Savan is never going to tell you to leave," Liang replied with a shrug. "Which is why he left you last night. I can only guess what happened between the two of you. I don't want to know," he said when Cole started to speak. "What I do know is that Savan was scared enough to come back home and spend the entire night prowling the loft. I'm doing you a favor."

"By warning me to stay away from him," Cole scoffed, irritated. "Are you his watchdog?"

Savan's leaving was starting to take second place on the scale of annoyance.

"I'm not walking away."

Liang narrowed his gaze at him as though to scare him away, and Cole wondered whether that look was supposed to freak him out.

He wasn't the C.E.O of Niad Fashions for nothing. Cole met Liang's hostile gaze not ready to back down. He had faced down scarier people in his time.

Liang was only protecting his best friend.

"Liang—"

Liang reached out to press an unmarked button on the elevator console.

"I want you to remember this moment in future, Cole. If you hurt him, you'll have to deal with me. I won't be pleasant. If he hurts you, tough luck, Lucianne. Remember that I warned you to walk away."

"Fair enough," Cole said.

The elevator was very fast, it opened almost five seconds later to a very short hallway that led to a set of black double doors with an automatic lock fitted on them. Liang pressed a pad that ran a laser light on his index finger. The security was unexpected but Cole ignored it when the lock beeped and the doors swung open.

"He should be in the kitchen," Liang said.

Liang pointed to the left indicating an open dining area that led to a kitchen separated with fogged-glass. Clean counter tops were visible from where Cole stood but not much else.

Cole looked around the rest of what he could see of the loft. The décor was an eclectic mixture. He'd half-expected Savan's dark style to take over the place. Instead, the loft was bright and spacious showing off a living area with floor-length windows on the east and south sides. Antique furniture mixed in with modern plush couches, drawings done by famous _manga-ka_ on the wall, mixed in with stunning photographs of Tokyo city.

Removing his shoes, Cole walked on socked feet on the highly polished wood floor to the dining room. The dining table was laden with magazines and files.

Liang disappeared down a corridor that went beyond the living room.

Cole paused at the kitchen entrance, his gaze immediately finding Savan seated at the island table sipping coffee. Savan looked handsome in a black t-shirt, his hair sticking up all over the place. The earrings were back, and those dark eyes were shadowed, from lack of sleep.

"How could you leave like that?" Cole asked. "You didn't even leave a message."

Savan dropped his mug on the table not caring that the mug precariously balanced at the edge before it tipped over and fell to the floor. Savan was already walking past him to the living room.

"How did you get in?" Savan demanded, his gaze looking around the living room.

"I let him in," Liang called from down the corridor, and Cole frowned when Savan whirled around to stare at his best friend with an unreadable expression. "He says he needs to talk to you."

Savan stood so still, Cole started to move to touch him but then stopped when Savan looked at him. He was starting to think these two needed to take yoga class to control their paranoia. Savan was always so on edge.

"I'm gonna take a shower now," Liang said in general, before he disappeared again leaving them alone.

Savan stared at him for a second before he walked back to the kitchen. He passed by Cole without stopping and went to retrieve a mop from a cupboard in the corner of the kitchen. Getting a dustpan as well, Savan went to clean the mess his mug had made without saying a word.

Frustrated, Cole decided to get a cup of coffee. He could play the stupid silent game too. Walking to the coffee pot brewing fresh coffee on the counter, he opened the cupboard above and was glad to find mugs. Taking one, he poured himself coffee.

Savan came to stand beside him, and reached for another mug. Cole couldn't help noting the small tiptoe reach he did. Savan was bare foot. He wasn't surprised when the memory of Savan naked on his bed filled his mind. Cole smiled, wondering if Liang would mind walking in on them in the kitchen.

He would love nothing better right now than to pull the black sweats Savan was wearing off and find out whether he was naked under them.

Savan dumped sugar and creamer into his coffee and moved away from him. He took back his seat at the island table.

Leaning on the counter, Cole sipped his coffee trying to figure out the best way to handle this. Obviously, a confrontation wasn't going to work here. Savan was definitely not the morning types. Pushing off the counter, Cole slid on to the seat directly across Savan.

"What are you doing today?" he asked.

"Not much," Savan replied. "I'm taking the day off."

"Really," Cole frowned. "Can I join you?"

Savan shrugged and continued sipping his coffee.

Well, he was going to have to change that answer, a whole day with Savan sounded way too good to give up. Thinking through the list of things he needed done in the office today, Cole reached for his cell phone and dialed Miaka, his assistant.

He rescheduled appointments and meetings, made excuses for requests from his mother. Cole hung up ten minutes later with a free day and a very wide grin. He wasn't going to allow anything to spoil today. He'd kept watch of Savan through the phone call and some of the expressions that had passed over his lover should be immortalized. Savan was hardly unaffected, as he wanted to appear.

"What are you smiling about?" Savan asked, pushing his mug to the middle of the table. "You're not staying here."

"Were you staying home on your day off?"

"I didn't get much sleep last night," Savan answered. "I'll try and get in a few hours. That means you have to leave right now."

"Go ahead and sleep, I'm not stopping you," Cole replied, picking up his mug of coffee. Taking a sip, he grimaced at the lukewarm taste and got up to pour the coffee out in the sink. "It will give me a chance to look around your loft. You are surprising me every day. Do you know that? You're like an onion."

"You just likened me to a vegetable," Savan said, getting off his chair. He left his mug on the counter and started for the door.

"If it fits," he said, his gaze fixated on Savan's enticing ass. The man had a beautiful body. "Aren't you going to rinse your mug?"

"Later, housekeeping police," Savan headed out into the living room and Cole chuckled at the answer. He was getting used to that awful attitude.

Cole leaned over and took Savan's used mug, and the bowl beside it. Cleaning up the few dishes in the sink, he left them drying on a rack then poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. He followed Savan to the living room.

Sipping his coffee leisurely, Cole paused when he found Savan stretched out on a wide black leather couch his head buried in a fluffy pillow. Savan was deep asleep. Unable to resist, Cole lifted Savan's head and sat down, gently settling him on his lap. Tracing the dark circles under Savan's eyes, Cole pushed soft dark hair back and leaned down to press a kiss on Savan's forehead.

***

' _SarEr, my darling,' a woman's voice said._

Her voice was so full of love it pained him.

' _Happy birthday, be anything you want to be but don't ever leave Papa alone.'_

Her words echoed in his heart, her eyes shining with such warmth... He reached out a hand to hold on to her but she was disappearing. Her voice fading....he couldn't reach...

Soothing murmured words, followed with a comforting caress in his hair. Savan opened his eyes to Cole watching him intently. Blinking sleep away, he sat up, surprised. He remembered falling asleep on the couch, but Cole on the couch with him, that wasn't too clear.

"Are you alright?" Cole asked, squeezing his shoulder. "You were having a nightmare."

"I'm fine."

Savan yawned, shifting on the couch so that he sat beside Cole, his feet tucked under him yoga style.

Rubbing his eyes to clear the cobwebs, he frowned.

"What time is it?"

"Ten o'clock," Cole replied, studying him. "You were pretty wiped out."

Savan shrugged and leaned his head back.

"You never told me why you came this morning."

"I was very angry with you when I woke up to find you gone. But, it doesn't matter anymore. You're a skittish one, I'm gonna have to adjust as we go."

"Go where?" Savan asked with a chuckle. "Cole, you really are pushy. Do you know that?"

"I'm dealing with an idiot like you, what do you expect? I'm not the kind to let a perfectly good attraction go to waste. Unlike you, I value that kind of thing."

"Oh, really," Savan yawned again. Stretching his arms above his head, he glanced at Cole with another yawn. "I'm hungry. Can you cook?"

"Are you asking because you can't?" Cole asked.

"Liang cooks, or calls for takeout," Savan said with a shrug. "If you can't, I can go across the street to Ahmon's. He always has a chef cooking in club kitchen. I'm sure they still have breakfast."

"Him again," Cole said, giving Savan an irritated frown.

Cole truly disliked any mention of Ahmon, Savan smiled. It was fascinating actually, considering the fact that Ahmon hadn't done anything. Curious as to the limit of Cole's jealousy, Savan cocked his head to the side and continued.

"I'll call Ahmon and see if he's free to have breakfast with me."

"I can cook," Cole snapped.

Savan laughed at the priceless expression on Cole's face. It was so priceless he couldn't resist leaning forward to press a kiss on those snarling lips. Cole moaned into his kiss and reached up with his right hand to touch Savan's jaw with gentle fingers. Breaking the kiss, Savan leaned back on the couch his gaze on Cole's mesmerizing eyes.

"I couldn't resist," Savan confessed with a small smile.

He didn't know why he needed to explain himself, but Cole's gaze demanded he do so. Looking away, he settled his head on the back of the couch again.

Cole stood up and walked around the couch.

"I'm going to have to find ways to adjust your horrible attitude."

"I'm sure," he said.

Cole leaned over the couch so that he was looking at his face upside down.

Savan gasped. Cole was handsome at any angle.

"Whoa, you're a sight and a half."

"What do you want to eat?" Cole asked.

"Surprise me," he said. "By the way, you carried my dessert home, and I didn't get to eat it. You just wanted to see my body."

"Your body was more interesting than the dessert. It still is, maybe, we should forget the cooking, and christen your couch," Cole replied without missing a beat.

Savan couldn't stop the blush that rose up. The memory of Cole kissing him all over, driving him mad with pleasure flooded his senses and the only thing he could manage to answer with was a moan.

Cole smiled and kissed Savan's forehead.

Cole disappeared and Savan lifted his head and turned around to see him walking to the kitchen.

Bloody bastard really knew how to get him going, didn't he?

Savan couldn't believe he'd fallen asleep so easily. All the anxiety that had kept him up all night seemed to have disappeared. The moment he'd seen Cole standing in his kitchen, his entire system had jumpstarted.

The worry was gone. He knew then it was because Liang had let Cole in, most likely after a talk that should have sent Cole running.

Savan sighed and stretched his arms above his head.

The fact that Liang had let Cole into the house was enough for now.

Standing up, Savan headed to the kitchen, helplessly drawn to the man in there. Cliché lines filled his mind: moth to a flame, etcetera, what an idiot he could be.

At the kitchen entrance, he leaned on the doorjamb to watch Cole crack eggs into a bowl. How had he known where to find them? Yet another puzzling piece about his lover. Cole looked at him and gave him a warm smile. That irresistible warmth drew Savan closer to Cole.

He didn't stop until he was standing right behind Cole. Not caring that Cole was busy mixing eggs, Savan wrapped his arms around Cole's waist and pressed his face into Cole's warm back.

"I won't fight you anymore," he said. "I couldn't sleep last night, thinking about you. It drove me nuts, and at six this morning I was sure I had the answers. But then you walked in, and they were all wrong. I don't care anymore."

Cole covered Savan's hands with his.

"Does this mean you're giving us a chance?"

"Day by day," Savan said. "I promise not to run again."

Cole patted his hands gently and they stood like that for a few minutes, then Cole had to keep cooking.

The day was strange for Savan.

Mostly because he was so used to making his own decisions, on what to do with his spare time, having Cole around was a new experience. After eating a very delicious omelet, Savan took a shower, while Cole explored the loft.

Pulling on his usual garb, a white and black t-shirt, and blue skinny jeans, he gathered his hair into a stubby ponytail on top of his head using a rubber band to secure it.

Cole entered his bedroom as he was rummaging in his closet for socks.

Savan frowned at Cole's clothes.

"You should change out of those clothes. I think you and Liang are the same size."

"Are we going somewhere?"

"I have to run an errand. If you're coming along, you can't look like that."

Savan found black socks which he pulled on quickly. Taking Cole's hand, he led him out of his room and across the hall. Liang's bedroom was neat and organized unlike his room. Flinging the closet doors open, he had no trouble locating a black t-shirt and black jeans that would be the right size.

"Change into this."

"What kind of errand is this?" Cole asked, as he pulled off his dress shirt.

Savan couldn't resist running his hands down Cole's chiseled abs. Leaning up, he stole a kiss, before he handed the t-shirt to Cole.

"I have to see a man about a boat," Savan said, refusing to say any more.

Savan wished he didn't have to go to the docks today, but he'd called their contact earlier when he'd been in alert mode at six o'clock in the morning. He couldn't cancel. Glancing at the clock on Liang's bedside table, he sighed. As delicious as it was watching Cole remove his suit slacks, they had to hurry.

"Put your clothes in my closet, I have to get something from the study."

Savan left Liang's bedroom and rushed to a small room next to the kitchen. He didn't want Cole to find him so he moved fast. There was a large mahogany desk in the room with a chair behind it. Walking around the desk, he crouched down on the floor, and pulled out two wooden planks. Reaching in to the gaping hole on the floor, he retrieved a small roll of cash, and an envelope with two pictures. Replacing the planks, he stuck the envelope into his pockets and straightened up.

"Savan," Cole said, his voice too close.

Taking in a deep breath, Savan stuck the roll of money into his front pocket and hurried out of the study. Cole was in the hallway adjusting his belt.

"After your errand, can we go somewhere? It's going to be a nice day."

"Sure," Savan replied, leading the way to the living room.

At the front door, he grabbed an old leather jacket, pulling it on, he watched Cole take Liang's jacket from the closet. Hiding a smile at how ruggedly handsome Cole looked, he pulled his boots on, and waited for Cole to wear his shoes.

They took his motorcycle, although having Cole wrapped around him had him thinking he was turning into a sex addict. He could barely breathe when Cole wrapped his arms around his waist. He ached for Cole. Now that his brain was no longer protesting the issue, he felt like a deranged man. It took all the concentration he could muster to keep his attention on the road.

Cole sat too close, his scent enveloping him.

When they got to the docks, Savan parked the motorcycle and insisted Cole wait for him. It took less than ten minutes to meet with his contact. He handed over the money and the envelope ensuring that he and Liang would have an escape route. It always served to get more than one, in case things got difficult. He walked back to the motorcycle slowly to find Cole waiting patiently.

"Ready?" Cole asked.

Savan nodded and gave him a small smile.

"It's your turn, where are we headed now?"

Cole scooted back, allowing him to get on the motorcycle. Cole leaned into him and hugged him from behind.

"Let's go to the beach," Cole said. "I want to see if you even know what the word relax means."

Sliding the key in, Savan gave the boats at the dock one last glance before he started the motorcycle. He wasn't sure about relaxing, but he was sure about secured transit. That would have to be enough for now, he thought as they left the parking lot.

They spent the day at the beach lazing around.

Cole told him stories about growing up in Italy. When those were exhausted, they discussed random topics. Savan discovered Cole had a healthy sense of humor. Savan sunk his toes into the sand watching the horizon. At some point, Cole lay back on his coat, with his head resting on Savan's lap.

Savan spent another hour playing with Cole's wavy hair while he watched Cole sleep. Cole had a handsome sleeping face. A group of kids ran past screaming and Cole jerked awake. It was already four o'clock by then. Savan didn't want to leave. He liked being with Cole. He loved the peace it brought him.

Cole stood and held out his hand to Savan. Cole pulled him up leading him straight into his arms. Wrapping his own around Cole's neck, he ignored the curious glances from the few people still walking on the beach. They stopped existing when Cole captured his lips in a deep kiss.

***

Chapter Twelve

Han Lao arrived at Narita airport and made his way through customs quickly. He hailed a cab and gave the driver the address Choi Yang Nan's assistant had given him. Adjusting his dark glasses, he glanced at the bag he carried with him, and for the umpteenth time wondered if he was on the right track. He'd had so many near misses it was difficult to be hopeful.

Unable to resist, he reached for the bag, placing it carefully on his lap. He removed the picture he'd gotten in New Caledonia and studied it.

The young man in the picture was in his early twenties. He wore his hair long well past his shoulders and dyed blond. He stood at the beach holding a pair of sandals. A white loose shirt framed his tall slender frame, his white slacks stained at the bottom with sand.

Han smiled at the proof that SarEr was alive. The picture was three years old, but it was the first one he had managed to get of SarEr in five years.

"The front entrance is guarded, Sir," the cab driver said, his tone nervous as they approached a set of high grey gates.

"I'll speak to them."

Han returned the picture back into the bag and zipped it carefully. Reaching for his wallet, he pulled out enough money to cover his cab fare and once they stopped for the guards to make an inspection, he handed the money to the cab driver. He took his bag and got out of the cab. The guards stopped his progress to the gate and he handed them a red card from his wallet.

The guards checked it. They waited for the cab driver to drive off before they let Han into the compound.

Han didn't have time to waste, so he hurried into the large house, walking through the corridors without looking at his surroundings. He was on the fourth floor of the building in minutes. He entered an elegantly furnished lounge glad to find that his contact waiting for him.

He gave the man a short bow of respect.

"I'm Han Lao. It's my pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sanori."

"Han," the young man said with a slight smile. "Please have a seat."

"Thank you, Sir," Han said, waiting until Sanori was sitting before he followed.

He placed his bag on the floor and reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve a small red envelope. He gave the envelope to Sanori.

"This is from Mr. Nan. It will explain the nature of my business here and why the urgency."

The young man took the note with a short a frown. He read the note in the envelope quickly. Once he was done, he placed the note and envelope on a stool beside him. He then took the files Han had placed on the table. Sanori leafed through the files for a moment, pausing when he got to the photograph Han had been looking at.

"Are you certain?" Sanori asked, picking up the picture and holding it up to Han. "This is SarEr?"

"Yes, sir," Han confirmed. "I'm certain of my source. The picture is almost three years old. I can't be sure he still looks the same now, he keeps changing aliases."

"This was in New Caledonia?" Sanori asked with a frown. "That's a while back, how do you know he is in Japan?"

"There were three options: Tokyo, Paris or Hawaii," Han said. "I've been to Hawaii and Paris in the last two years. I am sure he did not go there. This leaves Tokyo."

"Tokyo might seem little but it is huge, Mr. Han," Sanori said with a sigh. "There is also the possibility that the options you have are wrong, and he went another route. It's obvious to me that he doesn't want to be found, why the effort?"

"His life is in danger, Mr. Sanori. The longer he remains unprotected, unknown, he runs the risk of being murdered."

Sanori placed the picture back into the file carefully.

"I don't understand the danger. Mr. Han, my father asked me to help you because Mr. Choi Yang Nan is the head of the Ashika Consortium. I can't help you without information. You to tell me what led to SarEr's disappearance, Mr. Han. This doesn't look like the case of a rebelling youth. I know Mr. Nan, and his position has only strengthened in the past five years. He has ties in the business world that even my father envies. His son would not afford luxuries like rebelling. The responsibilities are too many for that, so there is more going on here."

"Time is of the essence," Han said. "It is a very long story and—,"

"If I know the story, Mr. Han, the faster I can help you. And please call me Ahmon, Mr. Sanori is my father."

Han stared at the young man seated across him and couldn't help comparing him to SarEr. If SarEr had remained with his father, he would be in Ahmon's position. Probably not as rough looking, SarEr would be more refined.

Dressed in a black open collar shirt with matching black slacks, his hair spiky, eyes shadowed with black, and earrings blinking at his earlobes, Ahmon Sanori was definitely a new brand of authority. Judging from that unfaltering gaze, he was also not going to move a finger to help him unless he knew SarEr's full story.

Han took in a deep breath and looked around the elegant room. He'd been searching for SarEr so long, going back to the beginning was hard.

_Difficult_ , he adjusted that last thought.

Drawing on his memories of the boy he'd protected years ago, he allowed the pain of losing SarEr to sting. The thought of Choi Yang suffering the loss of his son daily added even more to that sting.

Han met Ahmon's dark gaze.

"SarEr disappeared five years ago from Hong Kong after a series of threats against his life. When the police couldn't find him that first year, and no calls for ransom came, the investigators decided he was dead and approached his disappearance as a homicide."

"Obviously, Master Choi Yang refused this conclusion and hired private investigators to look for his son."

"What happened that last day?" Ahmon asked with a frown. "I mean, why would the police even contemplate saying that SarEr had been murdered?"

"SarEr was friendly with a family that owned a salon in the town close to the estate. After his disappearance, I discovered that the family was also gone, and no one knew what happened to them. All they would say was that the young master had been to visit them that morning in hospital."

"Also, there was a very large chunk of money missing from SarEr's private account. Enough money to board a plane and disappear with three people in tow. It was really so suspicious, I initially thought SarEr had run away."

"What changed your mind?"

"A dead body," Han said dramatically.

Han pulled off his jacket and laid it over his bag while Ahmon glared at him for that answer. He shifted in the armchair and shrugged.

"The family SarEr was friendly with had a young girl named Mei. She died the same night SarEr disappeared after suffering severe wounds to her chest, of which the doctor kept insisting were due to an assault. She went missing from her hospital bed that night. I later discovered the hospital cremated her right after she died, and there was no autopsy except for the doctor's testimony. The police insisted that she and SarEr must have been having an affair. The theory is that SarEr killed her and ran away."

"Why don't you agree?" Ahmon asked.

"I watched SarEr like a hawk. He wasn't seeing Mei in any way. Besides, SarEr wouldn't have needed to run with the Lee family. They would have wanted justice for Mei's death. I believe SarEr is being threatened and the remaining two members of that family are the reason why he's keeping away from his father."

"Someone is forcing him to stay away." Ahmon frowned. "What would such a person gain from—"

Ahmon stopped and stared at Han for a moment. He stood up and walked to the windows in the lounge. Han watched him think wondering what had caused the abrupt shift. Then Ahmon turned around.

"This could be about the Ashika consortium. Mr. Nan has been Chairman of the consortium for the past ten years. Lately though, he's been under threat. His assets don't have a visible heir. There are those who are uneasy that there is no clear line of succession."

"Mr. Nan wishes that heir to be SarEr Nan. There is no other close blood relative to inherit," Han said.

"Without an heir, Mr. Nan would have to appoint another head, and his assets with the consortium will go to his secondary next of kin. He has refused to disclose that information. Do you know if he has any other relatives?"

"He had a step brother," Han said. "A man by the name Dao Ming, but he died years ago. It was the first thing I checked."

"So, the culprit _is_ in the consortium. Why didn't you come to us sooner?" Ahmon demanded, his eyes glaring dark fire.

"There is one other thing. The person threatening SarEr is always a step ahead. Every time I've come close to finding SarEr, I find he has just left, or had left a week ago. This was something I didn't know until I met the man who gave me that photograph. I've spent the last two years chasing down false leads in two cities because of this person."

"We have to find SarEr first," Ahmon decided. "That's the solution: find SarEr first before the culprit warns him away. That means sectioning off information. We have to assume they've compromised the staff working for Mr. Nan, which includes you, Mr. Han."

"As expected of the Ashika Consortium," Han said, without batting an eyelash.

He had been expecting this, had even been warned by Choi Yang about it, but their options were running out. If SarEr was in Tokyo, the faster they found him the better. He doubted anyone of them could go another year without finding him.

"I'll follow your lead. All I ask is for regular updates so that I can report to Master Nan."

"Of course," Ahmon said with a sharp nod.

Moving away from the windows, Ahmon came to pick up the file he'd left on the stool.

"Don't leave the premises until I talk to you again. I need to clear a few things."

"Of course," Han replied with a small nod.

Ahmon left the room.

Han reached for the copy of SarEr's picture he had kept. Looking at the young man staring at the rolling ocean, he wondered what SarEr was doing right at this moment. It was already, eight o'clock at night, waiting around for Ahmon was probably going to keep him up until midnight. He hoped SarEr was at least taking care of himself.

***

"How come you don't know how to cook?" Cole asked Savan.

They were in his penthouse apartment in Ginza, and Savan was seating on top of a counter in the kitchen watching Cole stir-fry vegetables at the cooking range across him.

"I never learned," Savan said with a shrug.

Cole turned slightly to stare at him with an incredulous expression.

"What, some of us don't have the cooking gene. Besides, Liang keeps a fire extinguisher in the kitchen for the moments when madness hits and I try to boil eggs."

"That bad," Cole chuckled. "It's reminiscent of growing up with a team of servants in the house. Were you a spoiled child, Savan?"

Savan frowned and pulled at the fibers of the heavy grey sweater he was wearing, thinking about his childhood.

There hadn't been time to learn to cook, he thought.

"Hardly spoiled," he replied with a sad smile.

Glancing up, he wasn't surprised to find Cole watching him. The man saw too much.

"I was a happy child, Cole. Stop giving me that look. Two days with you, and I'm going to start worrying that you can't let me just be."

"I'm glad you're sharing anything at all," Cole said, turning off the heat.

Cole washed his hands at the sink, grabbing a dishcloth, he wiped them dry and crossed the kitchen to where Savan sat. He dumped the dishcloth on the counter and reached to take Savan's hands in his.

Unable to resist the close proximity, Savan leaned forward and kissed Cole sweetly.

"You taste like vinegar and spices." Savan pulled back and smiled. "Are you really going to do it tonight?"

"Do what?" Cole asked, reaching up with his right hand to push dark strands of hair away from Savan's left eye. "Why do you hide your face from me?"

"It's a hair style," Savan replied with a frown. "And stop evading my question? If you don't do it today, I'm going to start getting an abandonment complex. Do you know how much I want you, Cole?"

"I don't," Cole said with the twitch of a smile on his lips. "Tell me, Savan. How much do you want me?"

Savan grinned and wound his arms around Cole's neck. Unfolding his legs from under him, he moved closer to the edge of the counter so that Cole was now standing between his thighs. Wrapping his legs around Cole, he moved closer still until his body was pressing against Cole's apron covered front.

Cole ran appreciative hands down his back and Savan closed his eyes at the sensations caused by a single touch from Cole. His cock filled demanding immediate attention. His breath coming fast, he trailed kisses along Cole's jaw, before he fit his lips to soft pliant lips. Closing his eyes, he melted into Cole's embrace as they kissed.

Their kisses always started gentle, then the urgency increased and they turned ravenous. His fingers sunk into Cole's hair. He wanted relief. He wanted Cole in him right now. Clinging to Cole, he opened his mouth and allowed him to plunder his mouth.

Gods, the man could kiss.

Cole pulled back with a soft chuckle. Brushing lips against Savan's smooth jaw, he took a step back out of reach.

"We eat first. I just spent an hour slaving away at the stove."

"I'm going to go insane waiting," Savan said, touching his thumb to his lips.

He couldn't remember ever being so needy, was this normal? Maybe there was something wrong with him.

"Savan," Cole said, forcing him out of his panic. Savan looked up into very dark knowing eyes. "You're not the only one."

"Oh, yeah," he said, jumping off the counter. "This control of yours is going to make me lose my mind. I wish I could make you lose it."

"We'll see," Cole replied with a wide grin.

They ate dinner in the middle of Cole's living room, laying out the spread of food on the thick rug before the fireplace. Sitting on large cushions, Cole poured Merlot into a glass for Savan, handing him the glass with a flourish.

"Dinner is served."

Taking the glass, Savan smiled as he took in the stir-fried broccoli and fettuccine Alfredo laid out before him. Picking up his chopsticks, he picked a piece of the broccoli on his plate, and took a tentative bite. The taste of blended spices splashed in his mouth and he closed his eyes in appreciation. This was good.

"Mm..." he said as he reached for more. "I think I'm going to date you on the basis of your cooking skills. I can't believe how delicious this is. It's—"

He looked up to find Cole watching him.

"What? Do I have something on my face?"

"You're making broccoli the sexiest food on earth." Cole blinked and reached for his own chopsticks. "It's really quite frustrating. Do you even know that you're doing that?"

Savan blinked at him and then burst out laughing. Reaching for his wine, he took a sip happy that he was apparently not the only one caught in this lustful web they were weaving.

"Tell me more about Italy," Savan said, when Cole remained quiet. "Is that where you learned to cook?"

"Yes. My dad died when I was young. Mom was just starting Niad Fashions then, so things were very tough for her and she was worried I would be a latchkey kid. So, my grandparents took me in."

"It must have been hard losing your dad so young."

"I suppose, but Mom, my brothers and my grandparents helped me through it. We've always been a close bunch. So it didn't take long before I was a sun-burned teenager running all over Sicily. My grandmother used to call me _birichino_. Grandpa would stand up for me, which was always an exciting experience. Those two have been together for ages. It was fun watching them bicker."

"What does that word mean?"

"Naughty, mischievous," Cole said with a smile.

"I'm not surprised," Savan returned. "You're still a _birichino._ "

"Really," Cole said laughing. "And how would you know?"

"Do you see yourself when you're working? You shout at people for tiny small things, nitpicking everything, all because you don't want them to be comfortable."

"Hey, that's the only way to get perfection," Cole said with a shrug.

Savan shook his head at the matter of fact statement. Swallowing his spaghetti, he looked down at his plate and thought about what he'd heard Antonio and Michael talking about in the lounge at Niad the day before. They'd been commenting on Cole acting the way he used to when Danny was still around.

Savan had barely resisted the urge to ask who Danny was. Sipping his wine, he cleared his throat and asked now.

"Who is Danny?"

Cole paused and looked at him with a startled expression. Worried that he might be prying, Savan cleared his throat and shook his head, picking up his plate of noodles. What was he thinking? He could barely talk about his own life.

"Forget I asked. It was something Antonio was saying and I—, never mind."

Stuffing his mouth with noodles, Savan concentrated on chewing and swallowing for a few minutes.

Cole pressed a napkin to the corner of his mouth and he glanced up. Cole was leaning over, his eyes filled with mirth. Savan pulled back slightly and placed the plate he held on the floor.

"What?"

"You're going to choke if you keep shoving noodles into your mouth like that. Seriously, Savan, asking questions is how we're going to get to know each other. Why are you feeling guilty?"

It wasn't as though he could start talking about his own life. He'd never done this kind of thing before, he had no idea what was right or wrong. Taking the napkin Cole was holding against his mouth, Savan shook his head.

"It's kind of stupid. You seemed startled, and I thought I was—"

"Danny was my boyfriend," Cole cut him off gently. "He was my first lover. We lived in Milan together around five years ago."

"Oh," Savan said, finally understanding the context of the conversation he'd heard with Antonio and Michael.

Danny was the one who could cheer up Cole without needing to say a word. He was also the one who had inspired Niad's male casual wear collection. It was the only collection that carried a different label: the Shaw Collection.

"Oh," Cole mimicked him and Savan gave him an annoyed look. "What is this? Are you jealous, Savan?"

"I am not," Savan said.

How absurd, why would he be jealous? This man wasn't even going to be his for long. Reaching for his glass of wine, he drank deeply.

"So, what happened to him? Why aren't you two together anymore?"

"Danny passed away five years ago," Cole said quietly.

Shocked, feeling stupid for being jealous and hating on the absent Danny, Savan stared at Cole at a loss for words. Saying 'I'm sorry' seemed like an insignificant thing to say.

So he waited for Cole.

Cole placed their empty plates on the tray they'd used to get the food from the kitchen. He left their glasses, and placed the tray on the glass coffee table a few feet away. Settling back on the floor, he added more wine into Savan's glass.

"I met Danny when I was in school. He was a model, and I was doing design. I always made sure he was on my team during school projects and competitions. I helped Danny when he told his father about being gay. It was a hard time for both of us because his dad was so strict. But, we managed through it. We started out as friends, two years later things changed and suddenly all that mattered in my world was Danny."

"My mother wanted all of us to join Niad after finishing school, which would mean giving up Danny and moving back to Japan. I couldn't do it, so I borrowed money from my grandfather, moved to Milan and started a shop selling my designs. Danny came along and we made a life there."

Savan nodded, wondering what that must have felt like.

Cole had loved before, obviously deep enough to give up a position with his family business. This Danny must have been something to bring out such emotions from Cole.

"How did he die?" Savan asked.

Cole sighed and turned so that they sat facing each other. Cole took his right hand and squeezed it gently. He took in a deep breath let it out in increments before he continued.

"My mother had just found out what I'd done. She came to Milan during one of our shop's fashion shows. I was so worried she was going to be hurt, but she surprised me. It was also the first time I told her that I was gay, so you can imagine the stress."

"I've never told my father," Savan confessed. Shaking his head, he urged Cole to continue. "How did Mika take it?"

"She was angry at me for keeping it a secret from her. She thought that it was the reason I didn't want to return to Japan. So, I introduced her to Danny. Mom and Danny became the best of friends. Danny had that effect on people. He was perpetually smiling, happy, and loved life. The only thing that used to get him down was occasional low self-esteem moments. Especially before he walked on the runway, it was a ridiculous thing, really. He was so beautiful."

Cole sighed and shook his head.

"Two days before my mother has to go back to Japan, Danny went to pick up his motorcycle from servicing at the garage, and a drunk driver hits him on the highway. I couldn't function for eight months after that."

"Oh, Cole," Savan said, thinking of the grief that must have crippled him. He disentangled their fingers and reached up to pull Cole into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry."

Cole held on to him for a few moments before he pulled back.

"I have to finish this. I need you to know."

"Are you sure?" Savan stared into pained dark eyes and wondered what he'd been thinking bringing this up. He was a terrible person, what had he been thinking. This was too—

Cole smiled and stroked a hand down his jaw.

"Hush, and let me finish. I haven't wanted to know anyone like that since Danny. I've had flings, plenty of them, believe me. But, you, Savan, you make me want to remember what it was like to care. To want someone day and night, and not be afraid of that feeling. It's terrifying, and I'm worried you'll walk away, but what can I do. I want you so much."

"I want you too," Savan said in turn getting on his knees.

He pulled off the sweater he was wearing, followed by the t-shirt and wound his arms around Cole.

"I'm yours, Cole."

***

Cole leaned back and looked into Savan's dark eyes. He searched them for a sign of hesitation but there was none. He slid his hands over Savan's back and reached up to pull Savan's head down for a kiss.

Their lips met in a heated kiss that had him holding on to Savan's hips, pulling him closer. The kiss continued until they were both breathing hard. Savan moaned when he unbuttoned his trousers and pushed them down to find he wasn't wearing any underwear. He let the trousers slide down Savan's hips. He took Savan in his hand and stroked him slowly, teasing Savan's swollen length. Savan rewarded him with a hot moan his hips bucking into his hand.

Cole captured Savan's lips in a steaming hot kiss. He slid his other hand to Savan's ass, sliding his fingers into Savan's crack. Savan gave a muffled gasp and Cole sunk his tongue into Savan's mouth. Exploring and dueling with Savan's tongue as he teased a finger around Savan's puckered hole, teasing him. Savan clung to Cole's shoulders, his hands pulling at Cole's shirt. Savan gasped desperately when Cole's finger entered him slightly. Cole stroked his cock with his other hand.

"Cole," Savan cried, breaking the kiss and clamping his hot mouth on Cole's neck. He spread his legs slightly, the trousers at his knees restraining the movement.

Cole removed his finger from inside Savan and reached up to sink his fingers into Savan's hair. He pulled Savan's head back to continue their kiss. He stroked Savan's cock firmly, his hand moving up the hard length and down again, his grip tight, pausing at the sensitive head to run a thumb over the leaking precum. He kept Savan balanced on the edge, driving him to the brink. Savan's moans increased, turning into continuous pleading for release, when he got close, his grip on Cole's shirt got tight and Cole stopped.

Savan cried out unable to cum, needing Cole's touch. Cole leaned down instead to suck on Savan's hard nipples. Savan couldn't help the loud moan that filled the room, the sensations too intense, he felt like he could explode. Cole licked and sucked on his left nipple, his hand still holding Savan's cock. Savan sunk his fingers into Cole's hair arching back to give him access. Cole stroked his cock in reward and he closed his eyes, biting his lower lip.

Cole moved his mouth up Savan's chest to Savan's mouth again and asked hotly against Savan's lips.

"Do you want to cum?"

Savan nodded, unable to formulate words. Cole kissed him and said in a heated whisper against his ear.

"Answer me, Savan."

"Yes." Savan sobbed out, his body trembling with need. Heat coursing through him, "please make me cum," he begged clinging to Cole's shoulders.

"Not yet."

He let go and suddenly Savan knelt on the carpet alone while Cole picked up their wine glasses moving them to the coffee table.

Savan knelt unable to move, his body trembling. His golden skin covered with a slight sheen, his cock stiff against his stomach, one touch and he was going to come.

He was beautiful, Cole thought.

It was intoxicating, Savan thought through his pleasure-hazed mind.

He watched Cole through lowered eyelashes and decided he could get addicted to this torture. This kind of torture he could take.

Cole pulled off his shirt and dropped his trousers, pausing to pull out several packs of condoms and lube from the pocket. He threw them on the carpet beside Savan. He removed his black boxer shorts and threw those on to the rest of the clothes. Savan stared at Cole's large erection hungrily.

Cole came to kneel beside Savan and pushed him back to lie down on the carpet. Cole helped Savan pull of his trousers and socks. Savan lay on the carpet, the firelight dancing over his skin turning his skin into a warm golden glow.

Cole traced a hand over Savan's chest, touching the smooth skin over firm muscles. He moved his gaze up to Savan's swollen lips. Savan surged into his arms and they kissed wildly, their bodies tangling in excitement. Cole rolled on to his back and Savan broke their kiss to trail his own kisses over Cole's body. Stopping to lick and suck at Cole's nipples he didn't stop until Cole hissed in pleasure. He slid down until he could take Cole into his mouth. Savan enveloped Cole's throbbing thick length into the hot cavern that was his mouth.

Breathing out his pleasure, Cole sank fingers into Savan's hair again and held him down as Savan sucked on him. Tracing his teeth along his cock slowly, and then soothing him with his hot wet tongue. Cole felt his hips move involuntarily, pushing in and out of Savan's mouth. Savan sucked harder, hungrily, Cole groaned and couldn't help fucking into the hot mouth, faster, driving them both to madness until Cole pulled Savan's head up and captured those enticing lips in a kiss that had them both moaning.

"Take me," Savan whispered hotly as Cole pulled him up beside him. Savan reached for the packets of lube on the floor with trembling fingers. He handed it Cole. "Now, do it now."

Cole pulled him up for a hot searing kiss as he grabbed a condom. He slid one on fast, and took the pack of lube. Tearing it open with his teeth, he poured a generous amount on his thick length, before he soaked his fingers with more lube. Savan turned ready to get on his knees, but he stopped him.

"I want to see you," Cole said quietly.

Savan got on his back and spread his legs, lifting them up to reveal his puckered hole. Cole moved closer, sliding his slick fingers into Savan slowly.

Savan arched up with a moan his fingers digging into the carpet as Cole worked on slicking him up. Cole added extra lube to his condom covered cock, before he moved over Savan. He moved Savan's legs higher bringing them up to his shoulders so that he was completely open to him. He leaned down to kiss Savan before he pressed his cock into him.

All Savan could do was feel and breathe through the intense wave of incredible pain mixed in with unimaginable pleasure as Cole sank into him for the first time. Cole pushed in slowly, giving him time to adjust, until he was fully seated. Cole remained still, kissing him, sliding his hands over him turning simmering heat into unbearable torrid fire racing through his body. Savan moved against Cole's hard body, trying to make him move as heat buildup between them. His cock weeping on his stomach, he pressed his chest closer to Cole's reveling at the weight of him. He needed for Cole to move. Cole kept up his torture, teasing his nipples, never once moving inside him. Fingers sunk into his hair as they kissed feverishly.

Savan begged, cajoled, demanded, his voice hoarse with desire as Cole finally thrust deep into him, impaling him as he arched up to meet each stroke. His own erection weeping between them from the friction of Cole's stomach as he took him, Cole's strokes alternating fast and deep, to slow and shallow, winding him into a greedy need for consummation. Savan screamed when Cole's cock connected with that spot inside him, hitting it repeatedly with each stroke. Cole kept them in a frenzied race, Savan clung to him every nerve in his body alive, and he threw his head back as Cole came inside him with a loud shout. Each bucking stroke hit his prostate, driving him into his own release. He closed his eyes as ecstasy took over his body, and Cole slumped over him unable to move a muscle.

***

Hours later, Savan sat naked on Cole's vast bed watching him sleep, simply staring at Cole breath in and out, was becoming a hobby. Dark lashes against his cheeks, curly hair a wild riot on the white pillowcase, the dark shadow on his jaw was entrancing, the urge to reach out and touch was overwhelming.

Savan sighed and wiped a hand down his face.

He was beyond redemption now. Touching his fingers to a tender spot on his neck, he hissed when his cock filled at the thought of how it had gotten there. His entire body had such marks. Cole was passionate about everything—his work, his life, his food...how he made love.

Savan brought his knees up and wrapped his arms around them interlocking his fingers to keep from caressing Cole. Closing his eyes, his brain filled with the memory of their lovemaking. He trembled, still in a state of euphoria. Cole was undoing him piece by piece. Earlier by the fireplace, he'd been anticipating a session of fast satisfying sex, but Cole had held other ideas. Cole had spent hours lingering over every part of his body, kissing, caressing, and teasing him into maddening desperation. By the time they'd made it to the bedroom, he'd been on the verge of spontaneous combustion.

Cole shifted in his sleep, his right hand moving over the spot beside him. Savan watched in fascination as that hand searched for him even in sleep. As if sensing that he was awake, Cole opened his eyes and lifted his head to stare at the empty space beside him. Cole sat up abruptly rubbing his eyes. Pushing hair out of his face, that dark gaze fell on him, and Savan watched relief flood over Cole's tense shoulders.

"Baby, what are you doing up?" Cole asked in a sleep roughened voice.

He held out his right hand, at the same time opening the covers in invitation.

"Watching you," Savan said in a whisper, taking the hand Cole held out to him, tangling their fingers together. "Go back to sleep."

"Not if you're going to stay awake." Cole yawned and tugged his hand. "Come back beside me. I was afraid you left again."

Savan obliged Cole's tugging hand, he moved up to the spot he'd abandoned an hour ago when he'd woken up to find that he was wrapped around Cole. It had scared the hell out of him. He wasn't used to needing people, or even clinging to them.

Cole pulled him into his arms so easily, kissing him, stroking fingers through his hair.

"Don't leave my arms again," Cole ordered.

Savan rested his head on Cole's chest, listening to a strong steady heartbeat. Closing his eyes, he allowed his breaths to follow that steady rhythm. He fell asleep soon after.

***

Savan woke the next morning in a warm cocoon. Opening his eyes slowly, he instantly felt Cole's body pressed to the back of his. A strong arm draped over his chest, and Cole's head rested against his neck. Each breath the man took reverberated through his body. Pushing the sheet that was over them down, he moved to slide away from the tempting warmth. His thoughts lingering over a night that felt like an endless orgy, he felt sexually overloaded if that was possible. Letting a sigh escape, he started to get out of bed, but the arm over his chest tightened, restraining him.

"I have to go," Savan said in a whisper when the arm persisted.

Cole didn't reply, but he didn't let go either.

Savan rolled over so that he was facing Cole. Running his fingers into Cole's hair, he combed out the soft curls gently hoping to cajole the man into letting him go.

"Cole—"

"I don't want you to leave," Cole said sleepily, his eyes finally opening. Savan had a serious case of bed head and it was so sexy. He leaned over a bit so that he could kiss Savan.

"You'll try to stay away. You should let me make you breakfast, and then I'll drive you over to Bovian Image."

"Being clingy is not very attractive," Savan responded, his fingers tightening in Cole's dark strands. Pulling away slightly, Savan smiled when Cole raised an eyebrow at him. "You know where to find me if I try to stay away."

Savan gasped when Cole retaliated by leaning down to bite his sensitive nipple. He tightened his fingers in Cole's hair and closed his eyes as his body rippled with sensation from the small assault. Letting Cole's hair go, Savan tried to get up again.

"I really have to go to the shop."

"Liang is there," Cole replied, wrapping his arms around Savan. Cole trailed kisses along his jaw. "He can handle things."

"I have an early appointment," Savan said, pulling away from Cole's sweet mouth.

His body ached pleasantly as he sat up ignoring Cole's persistent arms and moved to the edge of the bed.

"Liang needs me there."

"He can live without you for a couple of hours," Cole said moodily. "Have breakfast with me, Savan."

Savan stood up heading to the master bathroom.

"I'm not trying to escape. I really do have an appointment. We can have breakfast another day."

Savan disappeared into the bathroom and went about taking care of his needs. Flushing the toilet, he turned on the shower and was about to step in under the hot water when Cole joined him. Wrapping his arms around Savan from behind, nuzzling his neck, Cole pressed kisses to his ear.

"If we can't have breakfast, then I'll just have you in the shower."

Savan couldn't help the chuckle as they both stepped under the hot shower. It took longer than expected, due to a passionate session of sex that left him so weak he could barely stand. Cole was hell bent on proving a point, Savan thought as he sat on the edge of the bed with a large towel over his head.

"I'm not going to survive this," Savan said, when Cole flung the closet doors open.

"You will, I plan on giving and getting more out of you."

Cole winked at him. He disappeared into the walk in closet only to reemerge holding a hanger with a set of clothes on it.

"I doubt you want to show up at Bovian Image wearing what you had two days ago. Try these on."

"And whose fault is it that I haven't been home for the past three days?" Savan rubbed his hair with the towel, before he flung it to the foot of the bed. "Are you going to tell Mika about us?"

"She knows. She'll get used to it." Cole pulled on black briefs and returned to the closet for his own clothes. "We're working together. It makes the situation easier for both of us if people know. This isn't an illicit love affair, Savan. I want to be with you, no hiding."

_No hiding, huh_ , Savan reached for the clothes Cole had given him and removed them from the hanger. He was surprised to find that the tailored slim fit trousers and dress shirt fit perfectly. Buttoning the shirt, he glanced up when Cole emerged in a navy polo shirt and blue jeans. His damp hair curling around his shoulders, he looked like a sex god.

"You're not going to the office?"

"Not yet," Cole said his gaze running over him appreciatively before he held out a pair of black socks. "I'll drop you off at the salon."

Savan took the socks, finger combing his hair. He followed his lover out of the bedroom. In the living room, their dinner plates, wine bottle and glasses were still on the coffee table by the fireplace. Seeing them now, remembering what he'd given Cole last night, he couldn't help wondering where this was going. It scared him that he wanted it to last. That he wanted to come back to that same spot over and over, and feel all that he'd felt last night and more.

Turning his back to the fireplace, Savan glanced at Cole to find him watching, always watching. His heart squeezed tightly, and he sat down on a carved bench away from the living area.

Savan sighed as he didn't know what was right anymore.

***

Chapter Thirteen

_He couldn't let it go_ , Savan thought a few weeks later. This raging desire that burned between him and Cole, it was intoxicating and he couldn't let it go.

Each week that passed, he promised himself it would be the last. He needed to break it off, he needed to walk away before they got too intense. Three weeks later, and he was still sinking deeper. After Takayumi's show ended, Savan figured his trysts with Cole would dwindle to an end, after all, they weren't working together anymore.

How wrong he'd been.

Every night, he ended up at Cole's penthouse, or Cole ended up at the loft in Bovian Image.

What scared him in all this was his growing need to be around Cole. To hear him laugh, or talk about the plans he had for Niad Fashions, or even gripe about his mother's latest petty projects. It scared him every time he felt compelled to be in the kitchen while Cole cooked. On the weekends they were both free, Cole took him on two-day long trips out of the city.

Savan let out a shaky sigh as he finally realized something.

He was having a relationship!

The sharp sting of pain on his left index finger had him dropping the knife on the chopping board and jumping around cursing loudly. Shaking his finger, he brought it to his mouth, sucking on the painful cut, while he glared at the potatoes on the chopping board.

This was harder than he thought. Bloody Cole made cooking look so simple.

Moving to the sink, Savan ran water over his finger trying to wash away the blood so that he could see the damage. There was plenty, he noted after a few seconds. Three cuts on his left hand, two of them on his index finger and one on his thumb.

Fuck dinner, they could eat out.

Turning off the water, Savan left the kitchen and went in search of band-aids in the common bathroom.

Cole found him cursing up a storm as he tried to wrap his thumb with the stubborn band-aid he'd found that was supposed to make the cut seal right away.

"What happened?" Cole asked, coming into the bathroom and taking his hand for a thorough inspection.

"It looks like he was trying to cook."

Liang commented from the doorway. Glancing up from where Cole was blowing his cut, Savan frowned at his best friend.

"The last time that happened, I almost had to call the fire brigade."

"Oh, baby, were you trying to make us dinner?"

Cole took over the first aid making Savan blush when he dropped a kiss on his thumb before putting the band-aid.

Looking up, Savan found Liang laughing silently at the doorway. Making a face at him, Savan showed him the finger behind Cole's back. Liang doubled over with laughter and had to rush away when Cole finished bandaging Savan's fingers.

"You don't have to do this to yourself. I don't mind cooking," Cole said with a small smile. "Although the idea of you in the kitchen wielding knives is rather sexy. Do you think Liang would mind if I had you on the kitchen counter?"

Savan wrapped his arms around Cole's neck and lifted up to meld their lips together in a kiss. He didn't know about the kitchen counter, but the bathroom one was quite available right now and a session with Cole might alleviate his sudden irritation.

Cole pulled back slightly, his hands resting on Savan's hips.

"I'm starting to think you have a thing for bathrooms."

"I'm not the one who insisted on doing it in a public bathroom last night." Savan leaned up to kiss and lick at Cole's neck. Nipping slightly, knowing that it was driving Cole crazy, he pressed a kiss to the spot again. The night before, they'd supposedly gone to the movies, but thirty minutes into it, Cole had dragged him out of the dark theater to the bathroom.

"I never got to see the ending of that movie."

Cole hissed at him, using his hold on Savan's hips to pull him closer so that he could feel how hard he was.

"You're a terrible tease. You needed to be taught a lesson."

"You could have waited until we were home."

Coming up on his toes, Savan fused their mouths together, enjoying the feel of Cole pulling him closer, as he tightened his arms around Cole's neck. He loved the taste of Cole's mouth. Melting into the kiss, he closed his eyes as Cole took control. Deepening the kiss, relentlessly exploring his mouth, taking his breath away, he clung tightly to Cole's broad shoulders wondering if it was possible to be any closer. The darned clothes were in the way. Savan bunched Cole's shirt in his fingers and moaned.

An impressed whistle interrupted his clouded senses.

Cole let go of him reluctantly. Pressing his face into Cole's shoulder, Savan sighed.

"What is it, Liang?"

"I was wondering what you wanted to do with the potatoes."

"Get screwed," Savan said, peeking at his best friend over Cole's shoulder.

"I'm not the one who has potatoes decorating every inch of the kitchen. If you've had enough, you two should come help me clean up the blood too."

Cole laughed and Savan punched him with his right hand since his left was still stinging from all the cuts.

"Laugh all you want, that's the last time you'll ever see me try and make you anything to eat."

"Come on, Savan, he's just teasing you," Cole said, when Savan pulled out of his arms and headed for the door.

"Oh really, well, then you two should be best friends, and you're sleeping on the couch tonight."

Liang guffawed at the comment, and Cole grumbled.

"I didn't even say anything about the fucking potatoes. Why do I get punished?"

Clean up took only a few minutes, Savan was restricted to the island table while Liang and Cole set about making dinner. Apparently, while he'd been chopping his fingers off, the two had gone off grocery shopping together. They teased him mercilessly about his attempt to cook through the whole process. Cole couldn't stop laughing when he threatened to throw them both off the balcony if they didn't stop. When dinner was ready, they sat around the island table talking about the upcoming holiday week.

Golden week was tough for the salon, since people still wanted to look fabulous on their day offs, Bovian Image remained open while Niad took the week off.

"Does that mean we can't go on vacation together?" Cole asked, looking between Liang and Savan. "You two can't miss out on the hot spring at our home estate. Come on, it will be a blast, Michael and Antonio are bringing their wives down."

"Unless it's after Wednesday," Liang said, popping pieces of fish into his mouth. "Usually, Savan and I run the place with one other assistant until Wednesday. The staff returns on Thursday and we take our off then."

"That will have to do," Cole said with a sigh. "You'll love it, and Liang can get to know my family. Savan, when do I get to meet yours? Since you already know everyone in mine, I think I should at least make an effort and pay my respects to your parents."

The glass of water Savan had been sipping dropped on the table. He hadn't been expecting that. Grabbing the napkins in the holder, he dumped them on the spilled liquid, while he tried to figure out the best way to answer Cole's question.

Liang reached out to right the glass. Amazingly, it hadn't broken.

Pushing his chair back, Savan wiped up the mess.

"What?" Cole asked, when they finished and Savan and Liang had taken their seats. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No," Savan said shaking his head.

He glanced down at his food. His mind blank, he couldn't bring up any of the stories he always had ready for this kind of thing. It had been a while since he'd actually had to answer questions about his family, and he didn't want to lie to Cole.

"Savan's parents died when he was young," Liang came to the rescue.

Savan looked at Liang and gave him an appreciative smile before he turned to Cole and shrugged.

"It's no big deal."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't think—" Cole sighed. "I should have known. You don't talk about it."

"It's no big deal," Savan said again standing up abruptly. "Don't worry about it."

Unable to keep up the lies, he took his plate to the sink. This was the reason why he shouldn't be getting closer to Cole. The deception between them was getting difficult. Cole had nothing to hide: he was opening everything in his life to Savan.

But he could share nothing about his own life.

"Who's up for a little fun?" he asked abruptly. Anything to get away from all this thinking, he wasn't cut out for relationships. "Let's go to Hitoiro. I feel like releasing some steam."

"Savan," Cole started but Savan stopped him by leaning down and kissing him.

The taste of lemons filled his mouth. Savan wondered if Cole tasted his lies, pulling away, he smiled at Cole.

"I'll go take a shower first."

***

Pacing in the security room at Club Hitoiro, Ahmon watched his head of security running the picture he'd gotten from Han through facial recognition software. They'd run it through so many programs he was starting to think he was never going to get the proof he needed. He had his suspicions, but he couldn't approach his father without proof. If he couldn't get a positive identification on the picture, they were going to have to keep investigating.

"Why are we running this using the club's cameras?" The head of security asked as he continued to add data from two years back.

"I have a hunch," Ahmon replied.

Walking to the windows, Ahmon stared at the Bovian Image building across the street. He was in time to see Liang and Savan emerge from the salon followed by a taller man. They crossed the street and a smile formed on his lips. It looked like he was about to meet Cole Lucianne. Everyone at Bovian Image had been talking about the romance brewing between Cole and Savan. It was pissing him off that Savan had yet to bring the man over. Or maybe he was feeling abandoned.

Moving away from the windows, Ahmon was about to leave the room to go meet Savan when his head of security exclaimed.

"Boss, we have a match."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, he just walked in."

Ahmon let out a relieved sigh moving closer to the monitor to stare at the confirmation blinking on the screen.

"This stays between you and me. If it goes beyond us, there will be consequences. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Delete the research, hand me the original copy of that confirmation. No other documentation is necessary, and report straight to the Ashika consortium house to watch Han. I'll call you for further instructions."

After a few taps on the keyboard, the man handed Ahmon a small memory card. Ahmon waited for him to corrupt the hard drives. He didn't care about cost, replacing would be the only way to help Savan, no, SarEr.

He could barely stop his excitement. When they finished, they left the security room and he urged one of his men to drive the head of security down to Ginza.

Taking the elevator down to the second floor, he located Savan immediately. He was on the dance floor with two of the waitresses. The deejay had just finished warming up the crowd and was now spinning full-blown dance music. He'd missed Savan's energy. There were nights Savan came into the club to dance and get as drunk as he could. Immersing himself into the loud atmosphere, as though he was trying to forget.

Ahmon fingered the memory card in his pocket. It all made sense now. It was hard to imagine that the long lost heir to the largest corporation in Asia was standing right there and he could say nothing.

Ahmon couldn't even alert Savan that he knew who he was.

"You're staring." Liang came up beside him pulling him out of his disturbing thoughts. "You're pissing off his boyfriend."

"He'll get used to it," Ahmon said dismissively.

If Savan was SarEr, then Liang had to be the boy from the Lee family, the dead girl's brother. Liang was Zun. He fought the need to ask that question and instead brought up their previous encounter.

"Is he alright? He's been avoiding me. You did tell him there was no harm done that night."

"Yeah, he's fine." Liang dropped a heavy hand over his shoulder. "You had better be supportive of his relationship with Cole. I like the person he is when he's around Lucianne."

"As opposed to whom he is when he comes to me."

"Yes," Liang said. "I'm not exempt in this, Ahmon. Cole is good for him."

"We'll have to see about that," Ahmon said. "But, for now, I don't think I'm the one Lucianne has to worry about. Looks to me like Savan is about to let it go on the dance floor with that woman."

"Wait for it," Liang said leaning on him. "Cole is the jealous types."

Cole had managed to navigate through the crowd and was now standing right behind Savan. To Ahmon's surprise, Cole didn't miss a beat, fitting his body to Savan's shorter one, he held on to Savan's hips, grinding his own into Savan. Savan leaned back against Cole, eyes closed, his lower lip caught in his teeth. He looked aroused, all that blonde hair falling over his handsome face in jagged edges. His slender body encased in black leather and a slim fitting shirt. Cole was all kinds of man in jeans that hugged his ass to perfection.

"I hope you have a license for indecent exposure," Liang teased when Savan turned after a few minutes and seemed to wrap himself around Cole. "Those two don't know when to stop when they get started."

"You're not making it easy," Ahmon said with a sigh.

He could never get Savan to be that open with him even on the dance floor. The couple kissed, and he felt a sharp stab in his heart. So that was how it was.

"Fine, whatever, I'll give them space."

Liang chuckled and winked.

"I don't think there is anything else we can do right now."

***

The night they returned from their visit to Cole's family home, Cole insisted they stay over at his pent house.

Savan didn't want to leave Cole after their fabulous weekend together. He urged Liang to stay over at the penthouse too. Liang took one of the guest rooms and after a light dinner, they all turned in for bed early, anticipating a busy morning the next day.

Cole made love to him that night with his usual intensity. Savan fell asleep afterwards content in his lover's arms.

Savan wasn't sure what made him wake up deep in the night. He moved to sit up in a panic. Before he could fully come up, a hand clamped over his mouth and his head slammed down to the pillow. Eyes wide, his hands coming up to fight off the hand at his mouth, he froze when he felt the barrel of a gun against his forehead, and the owner of the hand pressed a knee to his chest.

"Shh..." the masked intruder said.

Turning his head slightly, Savan turned to his left, hoping to find Cole asleep. Shadows moved in the room and the lights came on. Savan felt everything inside him still at the sight of five men standing around the bed. All of them wore black masks, each armed with a gun. The man standing close to Cole pulled out a syringe out of Cole's arm and Savan shook his head in terror.

"Come with us, or he gets hurt, make your choice. I want a single nod, and no talking when I let go of you."

The words barely reached his ears, all he could think about was keeping Cole safe.

Closing his eyes, Savan gave a single nod and the man holding him down eased his hold on him slowly. The gun didn't move as they flung clothes at him. Taking the jeans, he pulled them on under the covers, and sat up to pull the white t-shirt on. Turning to make sure Cole was alive; he shrugged off the hand that clamped his right shoulder in warning. He couldn't leave without knowing that Cole was still breathing.

Pressing a finger to Cole's pulse on his neck, relief flooded him when he felt a strong beat. Pulling the sheet up to cover Cole, he pressed a kiss on his forehead and got off the bed. His captors grabbed his arms and led him out of the bedroom, their footsteps so silent, it felt like he was dreaming.

***
Chapter Fourteen

Ahmon woke up to chaos at the Hitoiro club. Security had found an unconscious man in the dumpster. Scratching his unshaven jaw, he walked into the security room in a bad mood having not had any coffee.

"What do we have on the security footage that you need to wake me? It better be good, this is six o'clock in the morning people."

Ahmon frowned when the screen filled with Liang hitting an unknown man on the head with a metal rod and then dragging the man to the dumpster behind the club. Liang carried a black duffel bag, and he kept looking around as though he were expecting an attack.

Ahmon sighed. This wasn't what he'd been hoping to see this morning.

"Get me the cameras covering the Bovian Image building."

Ahmon got his cell phone and called the Ashika Consortium house.

"I need a team down here right now and alert the inspectors in-charge of SarEr's disappearance. We have a problem."

"Here he is again," the his technician pointed out Liang walking stealthily across the road. Liang used the side entrance which wasn't unusual. "This was around four thirty this morning."

"Any sign of Savan's motorcycle?"

Ahmon had no idea why Liang was attacking people on the street but things couldn't be right.

"No sign of the motorcycle."

"We're going across the street, and get Han in a car."

***

Liang couldn't control his rage, it coursed through him like a volcano. Fists clenched tight, he kept pounding into the face of his would-be assassin. He'd tied the man to a chair in their living room. Yelling out harshly at the reality of the situation, Liang backed away with a kick on the man's right leg.

He'd lost control twice in his life. First time was the day he found Mei bleeding to death on the salon floor in Hong Kong. The second time was three years ago when Jiro's men had shot at him and instead gotten SarEr. Two bullets in SarEr's thigh, the punk had been ready to give up his own life for Liang's yet again.

The memory of SarEr bleeding to death on the ship floor as they made their escape from Jiro's bastards still stung. It had taken the ship surgeon and the captain to calm him down.

He wondered who was going to do it this time. Nothing was making sense. Why would Jiro take SarEr and leave him behind? Didn't that make the past five years pointless? Shaking his head, he dug fingers into his hair and kicked the closest stool.

_Control_ , he had to find it now if he was going to get any answers.

Liang closed his eyes and took in a deep breath fiercely forcing his rage back. The man in the chair spat out blood. Liang grabbed the black fabric of the bastard's camouflage clothes and shook him savagely. He looked into eyes full of hatred and smiled cruelly.

"Who sent you to kill me? Why did your people take SarEr and leave me?"

He tried to be nice, using a calm voice, no anger, just fierce intention to commit murder.

"You had better start talking or I'm going to make you talk and you won't like my methods."

"You're wasting your time. Mr. Nang will send others to kill you."

"I'm not asking about me."

Liang reached over to the coffee table and the gun he'd laid out there.

His patience was running thin. He made sure the bastard got a good look at the gun before he pressed the barrel into the man's crotch.

"Are you married? You seem like the type. Pretty wife, a couple of kids, all happy and shit. I wonder what she'll do when I blow this off."

He got a face full of spit mixed with blood and he cursed under his breath.

"Don't fuck with me, answer my questions and you might be lucky getting off with being a eunuch, you bastard. What do they want with SarEr?"

When the man didn't talk, Liang stepped back and cocked the gun. He aimed.

"Last chance, otherwise, you're never going to feel the touch of your woman. One," he started counting.

"Two," he took a step back widening his stance for the impact. "Three—"

"Wait! Wait! Mr. Nang's boss has him. Our orders were to do the usual, scare you into running but today, Mr. Nang called us and told us to hurry. When we got there, SarEr was gone, and you had disappeared."

"You're lying to me." Liang shook his head. Jiro Nang was behind SarEr's disappearance, he could feel it in his bones. "Don't lie to me. Get your story straight. Start from the beginning I need to know where SarEr is."

"I'm not lying. I promise. I don't know where SarEr is. Mr. Nang is worried too, he sounded panicked when he found out we were late. Please, you have to believe me."

"What are you trying to say here?" Liang pressed the gun deeper into the man's crotch gaining a whimper. "That Jiro has been protecting SarEr? Do you want me to laugh?"

"He calls you extra baggage," the answer came through gritted teeth. "You weren't meant to be part of this, but SarEr wouldn't listen."

"You mean SarEr wouldn't let Jiro kill me."

"It was a mistake. You were meant to run away from Hong Kong and stay apart. Mr. Nang would have dealt with SarEr, but the three of you stayed together. It also didn't help that you were a witness to some woman's death—"

Liang backhanded the bastard with his free hand.

"Not some woman, my sister, Jiro killed my little sister! Start making sense very soon; otherwise, you're of no use to me. What are you going on about Jiro sending you before some others? Who has SarEr?"

"Mr. Nang has been keeping SarEr away from his boss for the past five years. That is our job, to make sure that SarEr is out of the city before the big boss finds him. Something went wrong tonight, and they got there before us. We were late, so my orders changed. I was ordered to kill you and leave town."

Liang walked behind the chair so that the man would not see him. Bracing a hand on the couch arm, he tried to curb the panic that had been simmering right behind the rage.

He'd woken up at three a.m. to a room full of blinding lights and a splitting headache, his senses dulled. Liang recognized the effects of a sedative. His bedroom door was wide open, and the lights in the corridor ablaze.

He'd jumped out of bed heart pounding when he couldn't move fast enough. Rushing to the master bedroom, the sight of the double doors thrown open and lights flooding the room had propelled him into the bedroom to find a passed out Cole and no Savan.

A thorough search of the penthouse confirmed his fears, especially when he found Savan's boots at the door. Whoever had taken Savan had carried him out. He'd been standing there trying to understand the situation when the lock clicked on the front door. It had taken some fast moves to hide. His hair was still dusty from his excursion up the living room ceiling.

That's when Jiro's goons showed up, panicking when they couldn't find him or Savan. They'd made a call to their boss to receive their new orders. They were to watch Bovian Image until Liang showed up and make sure to kill him without raising suspicion.

Livid, Liang left Cole's penthouse as soon as he could. Leaving a note in the kitchen for Cole, lying to the poor man about an urgent business matter, he'd made sure Cole was comfortable, turned off all the lights and locked the door.

The problem now was where the hell was Savan?

"Can I get something to drink?" his prisoner asked.

"Hell no," Liang said, pushing off the couch. "Who is Jiro's boss?"

"I don't know."

"Is Jiro still working for Choi Yang Nan?"

"He's got a big fancy title now, and works closely with Master Yang."

"Of course he does," Liang scoffed. "You're going to tell me everything—"

The front door crashed open a result of pure brute force, and Liang trained his gun on the new intruders. Jiro certainly hadn't wasted his time. Eyes trained on the men pouring in to the loft, he dropped down behind the couch, in case they opened fire.

"Liang," Ahmon called out. "It's me, I want to help."

"Why are you breaking down my door, Ahmon? What do you want?"

"I just want to talk," Ahmon said. "I don't want to harm you. I want to know about the bleeding man in the chair."

"Now's not the time. I'm kind of busy."

Liang slowly stood up to find Ahmon standing with his hands up by the entrance flanked by five of his security team. Behind them two men in trench coats looked suspiciously like policemen.

"That's a lot of fire power. Are you planning a shootout?" Liang asked.

"Well, you're the one attempting murder behind my club. I don't appreciate waking up to bodies in my garbage. It's bad for business."

Liang shrugged, keeping his gun trained on Ahmon and his men. He sidestepped his prisoner, giving him a quick glance so that he could see if they knew each other. He liked Ahmon, but if even a hint of recognition was registered, he was going to have to shoot. He couldn't take chances, not with SarEr missing. The longer he stayed here, the worse things would get.

"You look pissed, Liang." Ahmon nodded to the man in the chair. "Did he refuse a hair cut? You didn't have to rearrange his face for him."

"I needed answers. Why are you here? This is not a very good time to be cryptic."

"Where is Savan?" Ahmon demanded his gaze moving over the room with suspicion. "Is he hurt?"

Liang frowned.

"Why?"

"Answer my question, Liang."

Ahmon dropped his hands and took a step forward. His guard dogs took it as a sign to continue their entrance. They rushed deeper into the loft, quickly moving into the corridor and toward the bedrooms. Liang kept his gun up on alert.

"I know who you are," Ahmon said then. "I have two Inspectors with me who will take you into custody and question you, Liang. You have to give them answers. Don't lie, don't leave anything out."

The two in trench coats separated from the rest of the guard and came up to where Liang stood, one held out a hand for his gun. The other pulled out cuffs.

"What's going on?" Liang frowned.

Was Ahmon working for Jiro? Was he the one with Savan?

Connections to the police were not going to be easy to fight. His options were dwindling down to running and sorting out SarEr's disappearance later. But if he left, SarEr would be alone there would be no one to search. He sighed.

"You called the police, Ahmon. I didn't kill that man in the back of your club. He's alive."

"Where is Savan?" Ahmon asked again. "I need to know."

"He's missing. This bastard is the only one who knows where he is, I've been trying to find out."

"Give me your weapon," the Inspector standing before him said. "Don't make the situation any worse."

"Do as he says, Liang." Ahmon looked at him expectantly. "Please trust me. I only want to help you."

"I don't think this is a situation you can help." Liang looked at the Inspector holding the cuffs and turned back to Ahmon. "The only way you can help me right now is to let me go. That man tied to the chair is the one you want. He knows where Savan is."

Ahmon gestured for two of his men to untie the assassin.

"Cooperate with me, Liang. We need to get this sorted out, so let the Inspectors do their job. We'll talk later."

"Where are you taking me?"

Liang handed over his gun to the Inspector because he wasn't seeing another solution. He was clearly outnumbered here. The only solution left was escaping during transit or out of the police headquarters. He'd had worse. The moment his hands were empty, the Inspector pulled them behind his back and the cuffs tightened on his wrists.

"Where, Ahmon? How long is this going to take? I don't have time. Savan needs me."

"Please trust me," Ahmon said quietly, as the two Inspectors dragged him out of the loft.

***

Ahmon waited for Han's arrival, exploring the loft, looking for clues that might help him find Savan. It was well after seven o'clock in the morning, and his father was expecting a report in thirty minutes. Liang was in a holding cell at the police station. The Inspectors were investigating the man Liang had captured.

"Where is he?" Han asked rushing into the loft expectant. "Where is SarEr?"

"I'm sorry, we haven't found him yet. Liang, or you should know him as Zun, is saying that he went missing this morning."

"No."

Han shook his head and looked around the living room.

"Who took him? Why did you call me here? We should be out there looking for him. Where is Zun? I'll interrogate him."

"Calm down. First, I need you to go through this loft. SarEr has been staying here for a while. Go through it carefully and find out what you can about them. I'm sure they haven't been sitting around while being chased around. I need all the evidence I can get."

"What about SarEr?"

"I'll find him," Ahmon promised.

Leaving Han at the loft, Ahmon headed straight for the Ashika Consortium building in Ginza. He found his father waiting for him along with three gentlemen who were on the Ashika board.

They all knew that Savan was SarEr Nan, Ahmon had told them the night he found out the truth. Which meant someone working in the Ashika Consortium was behind SarEr's disappearance. Someone in their very tight circle of trust had betrayed Savan and that pissed the hell out of him.

***

"What do you mean they have Zun?" Jiro Nang roared into his phone. Gritting his teeth, he paced the length of his living room. "That's not good news, where are they holding him?"

"Police station, we can't get to him."

"Find a way in, and take care of him, Zun talks and I'm going to lose everything. _Everything_! Do you understand!"

Ending the call, Jiro cursed under his breath and braced his arms against the terrace doors. Things were going to the crapper very fast and it was all Dao Ming's fault. What was the bastard thinking acting so early? They weren't ready for such a major move. He had Choi Yang Nan's trust. This little trick was going to jeopardize everything he had now.

Straightening up, Jiro stared out the beach house he had acquired after five years of hard work along Choi Yang Nan. Acquiring the kind of trust Choi Yang had in him had meant giving up so much of himself, so much time. He shook his head in disappointment. His position as C.E.O of Nan Enterprises came with benefits he wasn't ready to give up yet. Just a few more years and Choi Yang would have handed him everything.

His phone buzzed and he answered it abruptly.

"Why would you do this now?"

"You are getting comfortable," the answer came. "Your little pet project with Nan's son was already compromised. The Ashika Consortium knew where SarEr was, they'd have found you out anyway. I can't guarantee your safety anymore."

"I'm so close, how could—"

"This is not about you, and you seem to have forgotten that. This is about revenge, not what we can get from Choi Yang's handouts. You should understand that already. I have the boy. You should leave now because things are going to get hairy for you if you remain by Choi Yang's side. He won't thank you for your role."

"You should have warned me." Jiro shook his head, his shoulders slumped at the idea of walking away from this privileged life.

"You didn't bother to warn me when you went around saving SarEr from city to city. Don't screw with me again, Jiro. I'm at the end of my patience. If you don't want to burn down with your uncle, find a way out of Nan Enterprises and Hong Kong."

His father ended the call as abruptly as he'd called.

Jiro grimaced as he realized how much hatred consumed his father. The bastard hadn't stopped to think how this would affect his only son. Looking around the beach house he'd come to love, Jiro sighed in disappointment. It was time to save his own skin, the only upside to this was that SarEr was not going to get to see his father again.

The Nan Enterprises Prince was going to die alone, as he deserved.

***

"Miss, there is a man here who insists he must see Master Yang."

"Kang, the Master is very busy right now. I don't think we have time to indulge everyone who insists on seeing him today," Sulan said as she busily rearranged files in her office. "Where is his secretary? You should have this man make an appointment with her."

"Miss, this man says he's from Tokyo."

"Tokyo." Sulan stopped what she was doing and straightened up with a thoughtful glance _._

_Han was in Tokyo_.

"I will see him."

The guard left and returned almost immediately with a Japanese man who carried a laptop bag. Closing the door behind the man, Sulan glanced at the bag the man carried so carefully.

"I would like to know why you insist on seeing Master Yang," Sulan asked.

There was a brief moment of silence, she waited and when he didn't speak, she frowned when the man held out a small red envelope.

Taking it, she read the contents quickly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," the man answered.

"Come with me," Sulan said, and led the way out of her office.

Choi Yang had moved his offices to the second floor of the house a few years back. Lately, he'd taken to working in his office here, refusing to go for meetings outside the estate. Gripping the little envelope, she hurried their guest up the stairs to the private office.

Knocking on the door, Sulan opened it and ushered the man behind her in.

"What is it, Sulan?" Choi Yang asked with an irritated tone.

"There is someone you should talk to." Walking over to the large desk, she handed the envelope to him. "He's from Tokyo."

Reading the note, Choi Yang got to his feet and stared at their guest.

"' _A token from the head of the Sanori Clan that must be opened by Choi Yang,_ ' are you the man with this token?"

"Yes," their guest bowed. "My name is Takada."

"Where is the token?" Choi Yang demanded.

"I apologize, but I can only give it to you alone." Takada bowed lower. "It must be alone, Sir."

Sulan met Choi Yang's gaze with a frown. She was particularly distrustful of people who insisted on being alone with her master.

"Leave us, Sulan," Choi Yang ordered.

"But—

"Leave us."

Sulan sighed.

She didn't like this one bit. Ever since Master Nan had sent Han away in search of his lost child, he had been doing things she didn't think were safe. He was getting more reckless. Holding his gaze, she made sure he knew she wasn't happy about this before she let herself out of the room. She'd leave, but she wasn't going far, she would wait right outside the door, just in case.

Left alone, Choi Yang dropped the red envelope with its note on his desk.

"She's not happy with me. She suspects you're going to kill me. Are you an assassin?"

"When the occasion calls for it," Takada replied with a matter of fact tone.

Moving closer to the desk, Takada opened the bag he held and pulled out a laptop which he placed on the desk. Turning it on, he typed in a few keys and turned the screen to Choi Yang.

"But, I am here for something else."

"What would that be?"

"The documents you're about to see will explain it all. You're the only one with the password." Takada pushed the laptop closer to Choi yang. "For your eyes only, those were my orders."

Frowning, Choi Yang glanced at the blinking cursor asking for a password. The rest of the screen was blank so he assumed this was an Ashika Consortium password. Sitting down, he typed in the necessary code, and blinked when the screen changed to reveal one folder on the screen. Clicking on it, he frowned at the series of pictures that appeared.

They were pictures of a young man seated on a barstool. His hair was blonde, choppy, wild, his clothes dark and very edgy, probably had a very bad attitude. Earrings on his ears, Choi Yang frowned, stumped as to why the picture should make sense to him.

He was about to look up in question when a tattoo on the young man's hand caught his attention. The young man was holding up a glass, sipping his drink, his inner wrist turned toward the camera. The tattoo made him look closer.

"I was so angry when he got them," Choi Yang whispered.

It was so easy to get excited, to allow his hope to grow, and how could he not. He'd searched hundreds of young men's wrists, in hospitals, in prisons, once in a morgue, each time leaving with disappointment. Desperation had made him disappointed at leaving the morgue without finding his son. He couldn't even describe that feeling.

Choi Yang scrolled through the rest of the pictures. Drinking in the pictures like water in the Tibetan dessert.

His SarEr appeared, walking on the street, getting off a motorcycle, at the entrance of a unisex salon, laughing with two other men. He wanted to see him right now, touch him, hold him, and discover why he'd changed so much. It didn't matter that SarEr looked so different.

He needed to get to Tokyo, today, right now, would be ideal if that were possible, but a few hours would have to do. He reached for his cell phone.

"I am also to tell you that if you chose to go to Tokyo to take only one person you trust. Only one, Sir, and no one involved with your dealings with the consortium."

"Sulan is enough," he said. "We're leaving immediately."

***
Chapter Fifteen

His ribs were killing him. Sitting on the cold stone floor, bare feet braced against the wall, Savan wrapped his arms around the metal chain lodged into the wall and pulled with all his strength. Fighting through the pain coursing through his chest, he closed his eyes, his teeth gritted and pulled harder. Jerking the chain, trying to force it out of the wall. The exercise was futile yet, he kept trying.

He lay back on the floor, his muscles aching. Staring at ceiling of his ten by six foot prison, he wondered what his captors wanted with him. He'd been here for approximately over a day. He had a window high up in his cell, and he could see that the night was going away now. It had to be around six or seven in the morning. They didn't have Liang. He'd found that out the hard way. Fighting against the three guards who had brought him to this cell had gained him a few bruises on his jaw, his eye, as well as sore ribs. When he'd demanded to talk to Liang, those same guards roughly told him he wasn't in-house.

That worried him.

With each passing hour, the possibility that it wasn't Jiro Nang holding him was becoming apparent. Jiro was a coward who preferred to escape confrontation. His men always did their best to chase them away, as opposed to capturing him.

Savan thought about Cole. Closing his eyes, he allowed the memories of their short vacation to Cole's home to fill his thoughts.

He remembered Cole's ecstatic expression when he and Liang arrived at his family home on Thursday mid-morning. Cole had spent a few minutes introducing them to his brothers' wives. Mika had even hugged Savan with a wide smile, inviting him to her home. It had felt so surreal, almost as though the Mika at work was non-existent, instead she was the pleasant doting mother at home.

Lunch that first day was fun, with Cole's family teasing him mercilessly. It had been nice to be part of that. After lunch, Cole had dragged him away for a swim in the pool.

Savan remembered the feel of Cole lying under him on the wide lounge chair as they dried off in the sun. Cole's fingers combing through his hair lazily, lulling him into a doze; he'd felt so relaxed.

Letting go of the chain attached to the cuff on his left hand, Savan wished that he could go back to that moment. That moment by the pool, dozing on Cole's chest like there was no tomorrow.

Lifting his hand, the chain rattled on the floor and he winced at the reminder that he might never get such a moment again. Sitting up, he gave up on the chain, and instead brought his attention back to the cuff on his wrist. If he could get the cuff off, he might be able to break through the windows.

He was busy poking at the cuffs with a short metal rod he'd gotten from the springs on the bed when the metallic door swung open. Jumping to his bare feet, he stuck the rod up his left sleeve and glared at the two men who walked in carrying a tray and a chair.

"I want to see your boss," Savan demanded. "You can't keep ignoring me. I demand to speak to your boss."

"I'm right here. There is no need to get all riled up," a new voice said into the room.

Savan frowned at the older man standing at the entrance. The man sounded so much like his father. He stared at the scarred face that was looking at him with a sneer.

_Hardly his father_ , Savan thought, a strange cold fear filling him.

The man was dressed in an impeccable black suit with shoes that seemed spit-shined. His hair cut close to his head, his left jaw scarred with a jagged line that disappeared into his hairline. Dark cruel eyes moved over him, and he felt sick at the sight. This man was not here to talk about the weather that much was obvious.

"Who are you?"

"That's a good question," the man answered, walking in and taking the seat the two guards had brought in. He nodded to the tray they'd placed on the table and smiled. "Have breakfast. You must be hungry by now."

"I'd rather drink toilet water," Savan replied. "Where am I? Why did you bring me here?"

"So many questions, you _are_ a handful, just like they said. Sit down. You look like you could fall from exhaustion. I hope you haven't been trying to escape. That window won't get you anywhere. They sealed it on the outside, and the drop to the ground would kill you. The cuffs were your own doing, you fought my guards."

"Excuse me for fighting back. You're holding me against my will. Who are you and what do you want? Where is Jiro Nang?"

"Jiro is sorting out his own issues at the moment. I've been trying to meet you for so long, SarEr Nan."

The man indicated the bed and raised a brow.

"Have a seat, I hate looking up while I'm talking and this will be a long chat."

Savan glanced at the guards at the door and sighed when they gave him sharp looks. It was either he sat on his own, or they would make him. His ribs were too sore for their rough treatment, so he shuffled to the bed. Sitting on it carefully, he pulled at the sleeves of his jersey hiding his hands.

Looking at the man seated calmly on a chair before him he wondered why he seemed so familiar.

"What are we going to talk about?"

"You and the choice you have to make in thirty minutes." The man glanced at his watch and his lips twitched slightly. "Minus fifteen minutes give or take, are you going to be good and listen?"

"I don't think I have a choice," Savan replied.

"Your friend, Liang is being held in a Ginza police station as we speak. Your father has arrived in Tokyo and is hell bent on charging him for kidnapping you. Since you're missing, his chances of getting away from such a charge are very unlikely. Your father is powerful, and bitter, he wants blood for your missing years."

"No," Savan said shaking his head.

How could they _, damn it_ , Liang should have been able to get a way. If Jiro found out, they were holding him—his eyes widened and the man across him nodded.

"Seems you've realized the other dilemma your friend faces. Jiro Nang won't let him live. Liang is going to implicate Jiro for your disappearance, as well as the murder of that woman."

"What are you saying to me?" Savan asked.

"I'm giving you a chance to help your friend. If you agree to cooperate with me, I will help him. If not, then you should make your peace with your friend's death. Jiro has already arranged for someone to kill Zun Lee."

Savan lowered his head, his fingers clenched. He hoped Liang remembered he fail safe he had made in case Liang ever met Choi Yang without him.

"I have no guarantee that you'll do as you say. For all I know, Liang is already dead."

Waving to the two men at the door, Savan watched as one of them pulled out a cell phone and brought it to him. The guard pressed a button and there was Liang seated on a hard metal chair, his elbows cuffed to a generic metal table. Liang was talking to a bald headed man earnestly.

"That is a live feed, I'm sure you can see that. In fourteen minutes, someone is going to bring your friend water to drink, that water will be laced with poison."

"Save him," Savan said abruptly. "I'll do what you want."

"Just like that," the man said raising his brow.

"I don't have another option, do I?" Savan asked, glancing up anger brewing so deep inside him he could barely sit still. "I have nothing to offer. You obviously planned the outcome of this situation, and I have no other choice but to accept your help."

"You're right. You don't have a choice."

"So, why are you even asking?" Savan asked.

"Because I need your cooperation, SarEr. I can't have you fighting me every step of the way. We have a few hours to go together, and a compliant prisoner is better than a fighting one. You look terrible already."

"Thanks to your guards. They roughed me up because I asked a simple question."

"From what I hear, they are just as roughed up."

Savan glared at the bastard and shook his head.

"What do you want to do with me? And who are you anyway? How do you know my name and Jiro?"

"Now, _you_ are asking the right questions."

The man lifted the cover over the plate on the tray. He shrugged when he revealed a plate full of bacon, eggs and bananas.

"Are you sure you don't want to eat this? It looks very good."

Savan looked away from the food and closed his eyes. His stomach was empty, and as if to mock him, it growled at that moment, making the man laugh. He wished he could eat the darned food. The longer he starved, the weaker he would be. But, being drugged would mean his death, and he wasn't about to lose any chance he might get to escape.

"You're so stubborn," the man said. "The food is not drugged."

The man picked up a piece of bacon, and chewed on it.

"Quite good, I have an English chef working for me, he's very talented."

Savan sighed and shook his head. Well, that changed things a bit, he could either play the fool, continue to starve or eat and keep up his strength. Hating the need for it, he held out his hand for the plate and started on the eggs hungrily.

"My name is Dao Ming Nang. I'm Jiro's father. In another lifetime, your father was my half-brother."

Savan almost chocked on the eggs. Coughing, he dropped the spoon and his hand slapped over his mouth, as he stared at the man claiming to be his uncle with disbelieving eyes. Swallowing his food, he put his plate aside on the bed before he dropped it.

These ridiculous situations in his life were endless. How was this supposed to be valid? His father had never mentioned any family, and once his mother died, no one had come to visit them other than their friends.

"Your grandfather had two wives: one legitimate, the other illegitimate. Obviously, your father was the son of the legitimate wife, while I was the one that was born on the other side of the tracks. It wasn't a secret, although father tried to keep us separate if he could. However, Choi Yang and I ended up in the same schools and we had to deal with each other. It was a delicate balance loving your father. He was a good brother through our youthful years, and we were friends. But, that changed when Ariel Lin came into the picture."

"My mother," Savan frowned. _Why hadn't his father told him about this?_

"I loved her very much, your mother. She was so beautiful."

"How did you know my mother?"

"We grew up in the same neighborhood. We were neighbors, then friends, then more. I always thought she would end up with me until your father came along."

"Are you telling me you're holding me here because you were scorned?" Savan laughed at the thought. "That's really childish."

"Oh, laugh away, you don't understand what it felt like to watch her walk down the aisle toward him with a blinding smile. I wanted to murder them both that day, but I restrained myself. In the end, they chose each other and I made my peace with it."

Dao Ming looked at him with an unreadable expression.

"You have her face, more masculine, but really hers. It pains me to look at you."

"Is that why you have me locked up in a room like an animal?" Savan asked, picking up his plate.

"No, that has to do with your father, and my revenge against him. You see, this scar I wear now, he caused that, and the death of Jiro's mother. He refused to fund a deal we had made together. The consequences of his refusal led to a brutal accident that led to my new wife's death. I survived the accident, but your mother fell victim to my pain. I made it a point to make sure that your father felt my despair."

Savan's plate fell on the floor, breaking into pieces. He stood up, fingers clenched. This bastard had caused his mother's death. His mother, who'd been innocent, all she'd ever done was love him.

"Did you have my mother killed?"

"It was a mistake," Dao Ming said, his tone remorseful. "She wouldn't listen to me."

All reason evaporated and Savan was on top of Dao Ming in the blink of an eye. Punching him on the jaw, he sent him sprawling to the ground. Savan went after him, locked his arm around Dao Ming's neck, he held him in a chokehold that he wasn't going to release until the man was dead.

The two guards pulled at his arms, Dao Ming was gasping for air, Savan held on in a death grip like a feral animal.

This bastard had killed his mother.

If his mother had lived, he would still be in Hong Kong, a happy man, living a quiet life. This bastard had stolen that from him. Pain burst behind his eyes and he groaned, looking up, he saw one of the guards holding the chair up. He tightened his hold on Dao Ming's neck as the chair came down again on top of his head and he dropped to the ground unconscious.

***

The next time Savan woke up, his head felt like it was splitting open. He was in the back of a van, sprawled on the floor, his hands and legs tied together, and tape over his mouth. Two men sat on the benches on either side of the van holding guns. He sighed and closed his eyes. He didn't know where they were going. But he was going to murder that bastard Dao Ming the first chance he got. If he was to die, he was taking his mother's murderer with him.

***

Cole sat in his kitchen staring at the note that Savan and Liang had left a day ago. Picking up his cell phone, he went through his call log again. He had dialed Savan's number all day with no answer. It was almost five in the evening and still Savan hadn't called back, not even a text message. Going through his contacts, he dialed Liang's number.

"Who is this?" a foreign voice answered.

"Liang?"

Frowning, he looked at his phone for a moment before he returned it to his ear.

"Hello, Liang?"

"Cole," Liang's voice filled his ear and he sighed.

"Where the hell is Savan? Why isn't he answering his phone?"

"Now's not a good time to talk," Liang said.

He sounded incredibly tired, strained. Cole's frown deepened.

"You guys left. Is there something I should know?"

"Everything's fine, Cole. I promise I will call when I can."

"I'm coming over."

"No need, I'm not at the loft," Liang said, a bit too quickly Cole noted, his suspicions growing.

There was something wrong, and they didn't want him to know.

"Liang, if you needed my help, either of you, you know you can call me, right?"

"I'm well aware, Cole. Nothing is wrong. I'll call you when I get to the loft."

The line went dead and Cole felt a wave of uneasiness sweep through him. Getting off the stool, he grabbed his car keys from the kitchen counter and hurried out. He had waited too long to check. He should have gone over this morning when he'd first called Savan and gotten no answer.

On the drive to Harajuku, his thoughts returned to their last day at his family estate. He hadn't wanted to leave his bedroom that morning. Savan had been so agreeable, so relaxed, that they ended up having breakfast in bed. They lay next to each other, simply talking, and then making love. It had felt like they were in a world of their own.

Now he missed holding Savan. Cole hoped Savan was feeling the same, which would mean that there was no way Savan would refuse to answer his calls.

Pulling into the Bovian Image parking lot, Cole found the salon closed. Ignoring the front door, he went to the side door. He ignored the elevator and went up the stairs to the loft. He stopped cold when he saw the double doors that were always closed half open.

Savan and Liang never left the door open, ever.

Cautiously approaching the doors, Cole peeped in and was stunned to find the loft trashed. He walked in slowly.

Books from the shelves on the wall littered the floor, paintings off the wall, some torn, others the glass broken, couches in disarray, he gaped when he saw blood on the floor in the middle of the living room. Panic had him reaching for his phone ready to call the police.

"How can I help you?"

He looked up to find Ahmon standing in the dining room holding magazines.

"Ahmon, what the hell happened here?" he asked in surprise. "Where is Savan? What's with all the blood? Is he in the hospital? Why didn't you call me?"

"Ah, Lucianne, you're not supposed to be here." Ahmon gave him a hard look then turned back to the dining table, placing the magazines on it. "I completely forgot about you. Will you close the door in case someone else decides to come in?"

"Where is Savan?" Cole demanded ignoring the order and rushing to Savan's room.

The uneasy feeling inside him grew when he found Savan's room equally trashed and all Savan's belongings on the floor. Fear that something had happened to Savan had him rushing back to the living room where Ahmon was systematically going through the magazines he'd been holding on the dining table.

"Am I missing something?"

"More like we're missing Savan," Ahmon said dropping the magazines into a box at his feet. "Liang is at the police station, and you should return back to your life and wait for us to sort this out."

"Hell no," Cole said. "I want to know what's happened to Savan. What do you mean he's missing? Why would Liang not call me?"

"Lucianne, I'm warning you right now, walk away." Ahmon kicked the magazines in frustration and looked around the dining room. "Liang is depending on me and I can't help him if you're distracting me."

Cole frowned. Savan was missing. He should have checked yesterday, why hadn't he? That stupid note on his kitchen counter hadn't felt right. He should have come straight here, but he'd needed to show up at work since he'd woken up so late. Shaking his head, he watched Ahmon go through more documents on the dining table.

"What do you need? I've been staying here too. I can help look for it."

If he could prove useful, they would have no choice but to include him. If he hadn't come here, they would have ignored him, and he would never have known.

"What do you need, Ahmon?"

"I need you to leave," Ahmon said in irritation.

There was no way he was leaving. Cole left the dining room, and paused in the corridor. All the doors were open, even the common bathroom, Liang's room, Savan's, but they seemed to have missed one. Leaving Ahmon rummaging in the dining room, he headed for the study he'd seen Savan come out of that first day he'd been in here.

Someone had pushed a flowerpot to hide the door, moving it aside, he turned the lock and it opened freely.

Cole entered the room. The desk had a few papers and a book, other than that it was clear. Walking around the desk, he sat in the chair and shuffled through the papers. They were shipping orders for hair products in the salon. Pushing them away, he looked through the book. It was one of those notebooks with dates like a diary. The notations were in Chinese, he didn't know how to read it, so he put it on the left.

Why would Savan be missing?

Cole tried to open the drawers and found two of them locked except the bottom one. There wasn't much, just a bunch of pens.

"You _are_ useful," Ahmon said from the doorway. "We missed this room in the search. How did you know it was here?"

"It's Savan's study," Cole said, holding up the notebook. He stood up, meeting Ahmon's gaze. "I'm in this, Ahmon. I don't care what you say; you can't keep me out of it."

"You don't know what you're saying. This isn't—"

"I love him," Cole said, shocked by the declaration himself.

He hadn't meant to say it, but now that it was out, he was certain. He did love Savan. He couldn't lose him.

"I don't care what you say. I'm in this to the end. None of you, not Liang or you, Ahmon, is going to keep me from helping to find him."

"Well, that is—"

Ahmon paused.

"I suppose you'll fit right in then. Come on, let's see the notebook."

"You won't leave me out of this?" Cole asked, holding on to the book.

"Apparently not, I'll even take you to see Liang. You might be the one that persuades him to talk."

"Why are the police holding him? Is it the blood in the living room? Is—Is it Savan's?"

"No, it's not. Give me the book first, Cole."

Cole handed over the book, although he moved to stand next to Ahmon looking at Savan's notes. Ahmon seemed to be reading them without a problem.

"This is good stuff. Savan has marked dates here, places to make payments. I don't know for what. It could be for the business."

"You can read Chinese? Why is Savan writing in Chinese?" Cole frowned.

"That's something I'll leave for Liang to explain. I wouldn't know where to start."

Ahmon walked around the desk, keeping a death grip on the notebook. He pushed the chair away and gave the floor an intense look. The drawers didn't interest him.

Cole watched in fascination as Ahmon stepped on the wood on the floor, testing it with his weight. He stopped when there was a squeak from the wood and dropped down to his knees. Ahmon pulled out a knife from his boot, one of those daggers that reminded him of army knives.

Cole suddenly realized that he didn't really know much about these people. Savan had refused to talk about his family. He had only said that his parents were dead, and he'd grown up an orphan. Thinking about that dinner they had with Liang the week before, Savan had acted strange at the mention of his family.

Ahmon undid the wooden planks on the floor to reveal a large metal box with a padlock. The sight of it had Cole gasping in shock, and Ahmon smiling as if he had hit the jackpot. Things got scarier when Ahmon pulled out a gun from his waistband and ordered.

"Cover your ears."

Too surprised to obey the man, Cole jumped in shock when Ahmon shot off the lock with precision. The sound so loud, it echoed through the room, his ears ringing, he went deaf. He could only stare as Ahmon opened the box. The cover on the box was wide, and removable. Putting it on the side, Ahmon sat back on his haunches and Cole moved closer to see what had Ahmon so happy.

Savan was definitely holding out on him, Cole thought in shock. His gaze fixed on the weapons in the box and the money in rolls, plus travel documents. Savan was either a gang banger or a criminal in hiding. The man he claimed to love was keeping secrets that required he hide guns in his floors.

"Cole," Ahmon called waving his hand at him.

Ahmon's voice sounded so far away, his ears were ringing again, and Cole shook his head and focused.

"There is no turning back now," Ahmon was saying. "You're in."

***

Chapter Sixteen

Ahmon drove to the Metropolitan police building fast. Ahmon looked unhinged, his concerns spilling into his driving.

Cole couldn't help wincing each time his car braked hard only to set off into a faster speed. On his lap were the documents they had pulled out from the locked box in Savan's office. He was getting over the fact that his boyfriend was hiding weapons in the floor. Weapons that were now in Ahmon's car back at the Bovian Image parking lot.

"What did you mean when you said I'm in? Into what exactly?" he asked, hoping that they wouldn't run into any traffic police.

"What do you know about Savan?"

"He's an orphan. He and Liang have been friends forever. He owns Bovian Image and is an astonishing hairstylist. Should there be more?"

Ahmon gave him a blank gaze and he frowned.

"What?"

"I suppose Savan needed to keep his secrets to maintain his alias."

"Alias," Cole shook his head. "Are you telling me Savan has another name?"

"I'm telling you Savan is not his real name. He isn't an orphan, and he is more than a hairstylist."

"Is he a gangster?" Cole asked.

He would accept it, but he needed to know. He loved the man, what were a few gang transactions...he shook his head, rubbing a hand down his face.

Ahmon chuckled.

The car slowed down considerably and Cole glanced up to find that they were driving into the parking lot of the imposing high rise that was the Metropolitan police headquarters.

"Relax, Savan is not a gangster, even though he might have been if he wanted."

Parking the car, Ahmon shut off the engine and sat staring at the building for a moment. Cole picked up the bag of documents on his lap. Why would Savan lie to him about his family? It was hard to believe Ahmon's words when he'd seen how much it hurt Savan to talk about his parents. Savan wouldn't look so lost when he talked about family if he wasn't an orphan.

"Cole," Ahmon said in the ensuing silence. "Whatever you hear from now on, I hope you can forgive Savan. He might need you more than you understand. He's had it rough and you might be the only one that saves him in the end."

"That's a bit epic, coming from you." Cole shrugged. "I love him, Ahmon, that's all that matters."

"I hope you can still say that in the morning."

Ahmon got out of the car and Cole sighed. It was only seven o'clock in the evening, tomorrow morning seemed like a lifetime away.

Following Ahmon into the building, Cole held on to the bag tightly. A Chief Inspector who greeted them both warmly met them in the lobby. Ahmon talked with the man, he caught a few snippets of the conversation, but nothing made sense. Savan was still missing, and they didn't have a clue where to concentrate the search. Liang was insisting he wouldn't talk to anyone but a Master Nan.

"Who is Master Nan?" Cole asked, when they found themselves in a waiting room on the fourth floor. "Why won't Liang help Savan?"

"It's a very long story."

Ahmon nodded to two men walking up to them. One of them bald, the other looked suspiciously like the head of the Ashika Consortium. Noting Cole's surprise, Ahmon patted his arm.

"Ahmon, what do you have? I don't want to walk into that room without knowing what is going on," Master Choi Yang Nan said in a quiet authoritative voice.

Cole was awed. It was surreal meeting the most powerful man in Asia at a place like this, but here he was. His brother, Antonio, was going to be so jealous. Wondering what Choi Yang was doing here, Cole bowed in greeting and looked up to find the man studying him.

"Who is this?"

"He's Cole Lucianne, CEO of Niad Fashions. He and Savan are very good friends."

The bald headed man glared at him and Cole felt a shiver run down his back at that look. He'd just met the man!

Choi Yang extended a hand to him and Cole took it.

"It's an honor to meet you, Sir," Cole said.

"The pleasure is mine. You know my son? You've been with him as he lived here?"

_Son,_ Cole frowned, giving Ahmon a startled glance.

Ahmon nodded and Cole frowned.

"Are you talking about Savan?" Cole asked.

"I find it hard to call him by that name," Choi Yang said. "I'm sure it's a surprise to find out about me this way when he obviously didn't talk about me."

"I'm—"

Cole stopped. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to think. Savan had been so adamant about his parents being dead. To see his father standing here so obviously alive—

"He said he was an orphan."

Choi Yang winced at his words.

"The easiest way to clear this situation is for you to see Liang, Master Nan," Ahmon said.

Ahmon took the bag of documents from Cole and handed it to the older man.

"These are the papers Liang requested I find in their loft. He said they would help him prove his story. We must hurry, Savan is still out there and we don't know who has him."

Taking the bag, Choi Yang gave Cole a long look, then turned and walked back the way he'd come. The bald man following behind him like a bodyguard.

Turning to Ahmon, Cole glared.

"You could have warned me. Master Nan is hurting because of what I said. And what is wrong with Savan? How could he do this?"

"You haven't heard the half of it. Come along, lover boy. Let's see what you're really made of."

They entered an observation office down the hall with a desk loaded with surveillance systems, overhead screens and chairs. Two inspectors manned the systems. Cole's gaze was drawn to a tall slender woman leaning against the wall. Her gaze staring into the two-way mirror, her expression hard. The bald headed man joined her.

Ahmon led Cole across the room away from the two and nodded to the room visible through the two-way mirror. Cole couldn't help the gasp.

Liang sat in a hard metal chair, his hands cuffed to the table. There were dark bruises on his knuckles and one on his face. He looked tired, and hadn't shaved for days. His hair stuck up all over the place.

"Why is he being treated like this? He's Savan's best friend. You might as well have me in there looking like that." Cole glared at Ahmon. "Do something, you know as much as I do."

"It's not that easy," Ahmon said.

Choi Yang entered the holding room and Liang looked up quickly, his hands clenched in tight fists. Cole was surprised to see Liang bow his head low in respect.

"I have brought the papers you requested. Will you tell me about my son now? And why you have kept him from me for five years? You told people he was an orphan, Zun. Was it worth it treating my family this way?"

Liang didn't speak. He held out his hand for the documents Choi Yang was still holding. He opened the bag and overturned the contents. Picking up the notebook Cole had found, they all watched as Liang proceeded to remove the notebook cover tearing it away to reveal the binding of the book. Liang spent a few minutes on one of the corners on the notebook peeling something off and then he handed Choi Yang a small memory card, and sat back.

"Please watch this before we continue. Don't give it to anyone. Watch it straight away and in a secure room."

Puzzled, Choi Yang stared at the little black card and stood up abruptly. Leaving the room, he entered the observation room seconds later and handed the memory card to the two inspectors.

Unable to curb his curiosity, Cole went to stand beside Choi Yang as they plugged the little card into a reader and a video file came up.

Choi Yang folded his arms against his chest when the video started playing.

Cole couldn't help the gasp at the face that appeared on the screen. It was Savan but he looked different. His hair was very long, down to his shoulders and blond. He was thin.

_Too thin_ , Cole thought.

Savan wore a brown t-shirt but they couldn't see his feet because he was seated on a chair. An IV stand was beside the chair with a needle plugged into Savan's left arm. He spoke in English, his accent beautiful and fluent.

"Dad, please forgive me. I have been thinking what I should say to you at this time, but nothing profound is coming to me. I think it's the pain medicine, so I'll just get down to the facts. If you are watching this, it means I'm dead or something has happened that will make Zun need this to prove himself. Don't fault Zun. This is not his doing, father. Zun is innocent. He didn't want me to make this video, but four days ago, I was shot and almost died. I know you will never stop looking for me and if you found my body, you'll find Zun. So, I had to make sure that the blame was not put on Zun for how I've had to live."

Choi Yang made the inspectors stop the video for a moment and let out a harsh breath.

"Release Zun, bring him in here and make sure a doctor is on the way."

"But, Sir," the bald headed man started to protest.

"Do as I say," Choi Yang commanded, his tone not inviting any more protests.

Cole stood still, his gaze fixed on the image of Savan on the screen. He was younger. He was beautiful, despite the dark shadows under his eyes and the bruises on his arms. The long hair was something he would have liked to play with but he preferred the rowdy look Savan was spotting now. There was sadness in Savan's dark eyes.

Choi Yang continued the video and Savan pushed hair out of his face, his gaze haunted.

"I left Hong Kong to protect you, Zun and his mother. It all started the night Mei died. I hadn't planned on leaving you. I wanted to find a safe place to take Zun and his mother. Then I was going to find you and have Jiro Nang arrested, but things didn't go exactly as planned. I know you trust Jiro, but you shouldn't, Dad. He is responsible for all this. He murdered Mei Lee. He threatened to kill you, Zun and Xiao Wei. I saw them put poison in your food while you waited to have dinner with Mr. Sanori that night. I had no other choice. I couldn't lose you. I had already lost Mom. I didn't want to lose you, too."

The door opened and Liang entered the room coming to stand beside Cole, his gaze on Savan as he continued talking.

"I made a deal with Jiro Nang that night. I told him that I would keep away from you if he left you alone. It was also the price of keeping Zun and Xiao Wei alive. He left me with no other choice. I don't know what he wants, but every time your search gets close to us, Jiro has sent his goons to whatever city we're living. Chasing and terrorizing us, threatening to murder Xiao Wei, last week was so close, I got shot saving Zun."

Cole closed his eyes in agony. The two scars on Savan's thigh coming to mind. Would he have believed this story coming from Savan? He couldn't imagine that a person's life would be like this.

"It hasn't been easy. There are days I've wanted to call you so badly."

Savan wiped a hand down his face, Cole noted the gesture was similar to the one Choi Yang had done a few minutes before. Savan sighed and tried a smile. It was short, barely curving his lips.

"It's funny, I used to hate your obsessive protection, and now I miss it."

Someone beyond the camera called out.

"We have to go they can't wait anymore."

Savan nodded and his expression changed. His eyes filled with determination, he looked into the camera with such fierce anger.

"Make Jiro pay for this, for murdering Mei and if you're watching this, I guess for my death. Zun will tell you whatever you need to know. I trust him with my life. I have to go now."

Before the video stopped, Savan said a few words in Chinese of which Cole didn't understand, but judging from the tears that slid down Choi Yang's face, they must have been important.

All he could think of was Savan talking about his death in a matter of fact way. As though it was something expected, and the best thing they could do was avenge him.

***

Chaos ensued after that, Choi Yang making dozens of calls to arrest the man they were calling Jiro Nang. Ahmon left with the inspectors to continue their investigation on Jiro. Following the tide, Cole stayed with Choi Yang and the bald headed man as they moved rooms, working with the police and answering questions. Cole learned Savan's real name.

_SarEr Nan._ He liked it.

There was a certain ring to it. At some point, Choi Yang insisted they head to the house he was staying. The house as he so easily put it was the Ashika Consortium Japan headquarters. Noting the impressive decor was easy, accepting that Savan belonged here was harder.

Pacing the comfortable lounge, Cole tried to understand the facts, as he knew them now. An unknown party had kidnapped Savan from his penthouse while he and Liang slept. Closing his eyes, Cole wondered how he could have slept through that. It didn't matter that they'd drugged him. He should have known something was wrong in the morning. He should have heard something.

Liang had suspected it, why hadn't he?

Cursing under his breath, Cole wondered what Savan was thinking right now? Was he hurt? He opened his eyes and stopped at the windows staring out into the dark.

"He's more than a friend to you, isn't he?"

Turning around, Cole saw the bald headed man standing at the doorway watching him. Cole had tried not to mention his relationship with Savan to Choi Yang. He distinctly remembered Savan telling him that he hadn't told his father about being gay. It put Cole in an awkward frustrating position. It was hard not to show his distress every time they talked about Jiro's people hurting Savan, or killing him.

"What is it to you?"

"My name is Han. I'm SarEr's bodyguard. It's my job to know everything about him. You are my business."

"Any new leads? Have they caught this Jiro?" Cole asked ignoring that comment.

"They will," Han replied, with a shrug. "Do you care for SarEr?"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't," Cole said. Resuming his pacing, he took in a deep breath. "Why is it taking so long? Time is not exactly standing still and Savan could be hurt."

"Ahmon is very good at his job, he'll find Jiro. Please come with me. Master Nan would like to talk to you."

"About what? I've told you all you need to know. I don't know very much about Savan's past."

"Just come with me," Han said, waving him out of the room. "Please."

Cole called for patience and led the way out of the lounge. They found Choi Yang in a conference room. Files and computers took up one corner with two technicians working there. Choi Yang sat on one end of the long rectangular glass table going through pictures. When he glanced up and saw Cole, he stood up and gave him a tired smile.

"Come and sit with me, Cole. I hope you don't mind if I call you Cole. Han, get him some coffee, I'm sure he hasn't had anything to eat."

Han left and Cole sat in a chair on Choi Yang's right. Once they both settled, Cole glanced at the pictures on the desk and froze in his seat. They were of him and Savan dancing, his hands on Savan's hips as they kissed. He remembered that night clearly. Savan hadn't wanted to talk about his family. Savan had been tense, until they got to the club, where he'd thrown himself into dancing.

Glancing at Choi Yang, he started to explain. He didn't know what to say to make this all right for Savan, but the truth was always best.

"I love him."

"That's very good to know," Choi Yang replied, amusement dancing in his eyes. "I should hope so, considering how close you two are in these pictures."

"You don't care?" Cole asked in surprise. "I mean not—"

"I know my son, Cole. There is nothing to be ashamed of here. You should be proud of who you are."

Cole returned the smile Choi Yang gave him.

"I am. I just didn't—I mean, Savan told me he didn't tell you, and I didn't want to aggravate the situation."

Choi Yang leaned back in his chair.

"I've lived in a constant state of worry these past five years. Wishing and hoping for a glimpse of my son. Now, I have more than hope. I know he's alive. Having you sitting here with me is a blessing. I feel like I'm a step closer to finding him."

"Sir," Cole started.

"Will you tell me about him?" Choi Yang asked, his tone pleading. "Does he still like to eat ramen? He used to make the maid go buy him a package at lunchtime. He'd leave a full course meal at the table for a pack of ramen, so stubborn."

Cole smiled.

"Stubborn is still part of him. I can attest to that, when we first met, I thought he hated me."

Cole launched into a story of the first fashion show with Savan, and Choi Yang smiled...

***

Savan fought against the tight hold they had on his wrists, as a third man wrapped a belt around his torso. A black hood covered his head so he couldn't tell where he was. He struggled again and gasped when they kicked his thigh. His leg buckled and they had to hold him up on his feet.

"Hold him still one mistake and this goes wrong."

The one at his torso said, his tone muffled.

Savan didn't like the sound of that. He struggled harder but they pushed him to the floor and held him down. Once they finished with the tight belt on his chest, they cuffed his hands behind his back and led him out of the building to a van. He didn't know what day it was anymore. He hadn't heard Dao Ming near him since the time he'd attacked him. They kept him cuffed and hooded. As he sat on the cold, hard floor of the van, Savan closed his eyes, drawing up his knees, and thought of Cole.

Cole smiling, Cole teasing him mercilessly for cutting himself trying to cook, Cole kissing him and holding him as if he were the most cherished person in his life. Tears slid down his cheeks. He wished he could change the past. He wanted to go back to the first time he'd met Cole. Change it, so that they would have had more time together, but this was no time for regrets. He doubted he was going to live longer. His captors were treating him like he was dead already.

Savan centered all his thoughts on the memory of a Sunday morning in Cole's bed at Cole's family home. Cole's passionate kisses, the scent of their lovemaking, he hadn't wanted to leave that room. He filled his mind with every second of that morning, remembering every moment, every smile and caress.

The van started and he kept his eyes closed refusing to leave that place.

***
Chapter Seventeen

After endless hours of being in the dark, the hood came off and his captors dragged him out of the van. His legs were stiff; the two mercenaries getting him out had to support him. Once he could stand on his own, they pushed him forward and he blinked looking around.

It was morning again, Savan didn't know what day it was but the sky was lighting up.

He was standing in a parking lot of a high-rise building. Looking around, he frowned when he saw the sign on the door. It read Ashika.

_Ashika_ , his frown deepened and he turned to look at the men who were pointing guns at him as if he could attack them.

Idiots.

His hands remained cuffed behind his back and his feet were bare. He reeked too. Savan sniffed his armpits and wrinkled his nose. His gaze dropped to his chest and his heart slammed against his chest. He wore a jacket made of C4 with a timer set on the clip, no doubt set to detonate if he tried to remove it. He was to die by exploding, how dramatic.

"It's time, my little nephew."

Dao Ming appeared from behind him and the rage rose again.

Bile came up, his anger getting hard to control. It bubbled beneath the surface, this urge to rip out Dao Ming's heart. Savan trembled with its force. Savan moved to take a step toward him, but Dao Ming held up a small gadget.

"Uh ah," Dao Ming shook his head. "I hold the key to that jacket strapped to your chest. One move and I end this earlier than you expect."

"Bastard," he hissed. "What are we doing here?"

"I'm sure you know why we're here. Your troop of saviors will join us soon, but they will be too late. I want your father to suffer, and this seems like the perfect plan."

"What do you gain from this?"

"Revenge," Dao Ming answered with a shrug. "Take him. We'll use the service entrance."

The mercenaries grabbed Savan's arms again and he struggled for a moment refusing to take a step forward. They remedied that by picking him up and dragging him toward the side of the building.

***

Cole woke up to commotion. Han was pulling on his arm while Choi Yang and Ahmon were running out of the conference room they had made into a command center. Rubbing his eyes, he stood up and allowed Han to lead him after Choi Yang. They rushed out of the house and into black SUVs that took off, tires screeching in the early morning.

"Did we find him?" Cole asked, his gaze searching Liang's eyes. "Where is he? Is he hurt?"

"Someone called in a bomb threat at one of the Ashika buildings. There is a high chance that it's him."

Liang's tone was calm, straight to the point no trace of panic.

_Bomb,_ the word seemed to settle icicles in Cole's heart. He was still reeling from the fact that Savan was really the son of a billionaire, instead of the wild Harajuku hair stylists.

The weapons, the danger, the intrigue, he wanted it all to disappear and he could go back to being able to hold Savan in the quiet of his penthouse.

Han drove like a maniac, it seemed like none of Savan's friends were inclined to drive at traffic speeds. They screeched to a stop outside an Ashika high-rise building minutes later. Police and security personnel prowled the parking lot. Heavily armed men guarded the front doors. One guard opened the doors for them allowing them into the building.

"Where are they?" Choi Yang demanded of the Inspector who came to meet them.

"The main conference room, we've counted a total of ten mercenaries, all heavily armed. Their leader is waiting for you; he says he will only speak to you."

"What about my son?" Choi Yang asked.

"Savan is the reason why we had to call the bomb squad. He is strapped with a C4 jacket. He was struggling but they hit him on the head with the butt of a gun. He is unconscious."

Cole glanced around the main lobby, his gaze sweeping over the empty reception desk. Ahmon caught his inspection and cleared his throat.

"This building is one of many. We use them for conferences and events the consortium is hosting. We also rent the facilities to other companies. The main conference room is just down the hall. These people must have studied the building. It's the perfect place to place a bomb, if it detonates, the entire building will come down."

"Please don't talk like that."

Cole begged thinking of Savan exploding was more than he could handle right now.

"I don't care what happens to the building. I only want Savan safe. What's the plan?"

"The culprit won't talk to anyone but Master Nan," the Inspector in-charge said. "I have people monitoring their movement. There is also a team in place, if we get a shot, we'll take it."

"Keep my son safe," Choi Yang said. "No matter what, SarEr gets out alive."

"The bomb—" the Inspector started.

"SarEr gets out alive," Choi Yang repeated as he turned and stalked to the main conference room. His fists clenched tight as he pushed the door open and walked in.

"Is there a place we can see what's going on?" Cole asked, eager to see Savan's face even if it was through a screen.

They ended up in a state of the art security room. Ahmon and Liang brought up the live feed from the domed conference room, and Cole reached for the edge of the desk to steady himself when he finally saw Savan.

His lover, hands cuffed behind his back, lay on the open space in the middle of the conference hall. His clothes were dirty, and his feet were bare. His face streaked with dirt, and ugly bruises on his left eye were turning purple. There was a bulky belt around his torso, a closer look, and Cole sucked in air.

"We have to get in there. How do we get that thing off him?" Cole asked.

"First, we need to get past the dozen mercenaries who might shoot him before the bomb even starts counting down." Liang sighed and sunk into a chair. "Cole, this might be harder than we thought. I've always thought it about money, but the police arrested Jiro at the Hong Kong airport three hours ago. He was running to France. His father is behind the whole thing. This is a family feud."

"Meaning what?" Cole asked. "That Savan might not make it through this? How can you even think that after all you two have been through?"

Liang pointed at the man on the screen who was standing with his arms crossed against his chest.

"He gave up his son to get to Master Nan. Look at him; he's not going to end this neatly."

Choi Yang walked into the camera's view and Han added the volume when Choi Yang spoke harshly. His expression was unreadable as he came face to face with the leader who was now standing over Savan.

"What do you want from me, Dao Ming?"

"You dare ask me that?"

"I thought we were family. After your accident on the highway, I thought you died. I buried you."

"You buried someone else. You betrayed me, Choi Yang. I asked for your help, and you refused to give it, a simple deal turned into a massacre."

"That was your own doing." Choi Yang shook his head. "I have always run a clean operation and what you were suggesting involved very unsavory characters and illegal acts. I couldn't do it."

"As a result, my family paid for it and you lost yours."

"Lost mine?" Choi Yang faltered, clenching his fists tighter, his gaze narrowed.

Cole wasn't sure that was a good thing. The cold voice that followed sent a chill down his spine.

"What do you mean by that, Dao Ming?"

"I begged her to make you understand what would happen. She defended you to the end, and it pissed the hell out of me."

"What did you do?" Choi Yang demanded his calm demeanor changing, reminding Cole of a feral animal about to pounce.

"She died protecting this sorry young man," the answer came.

Dao Ming kicked Savan's still body.

"I asked her to choose between you and him. When she wouldn't, I made the choice for her. I was going to shoot your sleeping son, when she jumped over him. Her sacrifice was quite beautiful actually."

"Oh no," Liang whispered beside Cole, his gaze flying to Savan who was still unmoving on the floor.

"Wake up," Liang murmured. "Wake up, SarEr."

"What's wrong, Liang? What are they talking about?" Cole hissed.

"Savan's mother was murdered when he was young. Dao Ming has just confessed to the murder," Liang said.

Cole's gaze remained on Savan.

"He's so still, are you sure he's alive?"

"They must have hit him really hard," Liang said.

Ahmon pointed to a spot on the screen and Cole leaned closer in time to see a window high on the dome open and a man peeping.

"Looks like the snipers are in place. We should now worry about the bomb," Liang said in relief.

"What are they waiting for?" Cole asked, looking at Dao Ming.

The scar on Dao Ming's face made him look menacing, the dark clothes and bulging muscles added to the dark aura surrounding the man.

"I don't know," Liang said.

Dao Ming's gaze moved to Savan.

"I want you to suffer like I have, Choi Yang. I want you to watch your son die, knowing you can't save him no matter what you do. I want you to know that you're the last of your family left, and then I'll come for you in the deep of the night when you least expect it."

"All this for a mistake you made?" Choi Yang asked, taking a step closer to Savan. "If you hadn't made that deal, you wouldn't have lost everything. You're the one who refused to listen to me."

"I was your brother in every sense of the word, and you refused to back that bond when you walked away from me. As a result, I lost my wife, and almost died. _You_ made me take Ariel's life."

"You didn't have to," Choi Yang said. "Ariel had nothing to do with this, and neither does that child. Stop this madness, and take me instead."

"I want you to suffer the pain I suffered, Choi Yang. Watch him die."

Dao Ming held up a small gadget and pressed a button. Choi Yang gasped and his gaze fell to Savan. Cole could only assume that Dao Ming had activated the bomb.

Choi Yang fell to his knees and reached for Savan only to have Dao Ming kick him away hard.

"Do something!" Cole yelled as Dao Ming pointed his gun to Savan's head. He couldn't watch this. "Someone do something!"

Running out of the security room, Cole headed to the main conference room doors just as a series of gunshots rang. Cole felt like he was going mad with fright. He threw himself into the conference room and ran down the stairs to the center.

Choi Yang sat on the floor holding Savan on his lap. Falling to his knees beside them, Cole ran his hands over Savan's body looking for fatal injuries.

"He's fine," Choi Yang said. "He's alive."

"The bomb," Cole said staring at the device. The green numbers on the timer were counting down fast. "Five minutes. What do we do?"

"The bomb squad is behind you," Choi Yang said. He combed his fingers through Savan's hair and sighed. "All this because of a stupid deal, I can't believe it."

Savan remained unconscious. Choi Yang propped Savan's head on his lap.

Cole stared at Savan's closed eyes and felt a surge of pain lance through his heart. He didn't know if he could fit in to this world even while he desperately wanted to. The thought of never seeing Savan was more than he could take. Shaking his head, Cole squeezed Savan's hand, but had to move when the bomb squad arrived.

Cole refused to leave when they urged him to, watching with worry as they worked over the counting device around Savan's torso. The tension in the room was palpable until the timer stopped at the minute mark. Every one took in a deep breath as the bomb squad leader shouted clear.

Once the bomb was off, the paramedics took over and Savan was soon on a stretcher headed for the hospital with his father holding on to his hand.

Cole sat on a step outside the building as the sun finally rose fully, and the street below filled with pedestrians going about their business. He couldn't help feeling as though he'd dreamed the whole night up.

"Why didn't you go to the hospital?" Liang asked, sitting down beside him. "You should be with Savan."

Cole shrugged. He didn't know why either. It felt like he was in a trance and he was going to wake up soon.

"Savan almost died in there. I don't know what happened, but that man was going to shoot him in the head."

Cole shivered at the memory of the fear that had made him run to the conference room.

"He didn't die," Liang said. "Savan is alive and well, a bit bruised up, but he's seen worse."

"How can you say that so calmly?" Cole demanded.

Shaking his head, he stood up and glared at Liang.

"Is this why you warned me off? You two should have told me what was going on instead of keeping all these secrets. If things had gone different, if I hadn't come in search of you and Savan had died would you have told me?"

When Liang didn't answer him, Cole cursed under his breath. Why had he even considered the answer would be different?

"You're angry." Liang sighed and leaned back where he sat propping his elbows on the step behind him. "Anger is useful, Cole. It kept us alive for a long time. Look, don't take it so hard. Life has been very challenging for Savan, and my family. If it's any comfort, you remain the best part of this life we've been living in Tokyo."

"I don't know what to say to that," Cole said looking away.

Cole didn't know who he loved, SarEr or Savan? Which one was going to wake up in that hospital bed? What role would he be playing then? Ahmon was right. He didn't belong here.

"I'm going home."

"It wasn't his fault," Liang said, as Cole turned to leave. "It might seem like he lied to you, but he didn't have a choice, Lucianne. He was protecting you."

Cole shrugged and walked down the remaining steps. He would take a cab, and go home. Maybe after a hot shower, things would start making sense.

***

Savan woke up to the steady rhythm of a beep. He was warm, and his hand was clasped tight, the nice kind of tight. The tight that made it feel all was right. Lifting his free hand, he moaned when pain shot through his upper arm. Opening his eyes, he blinked at the warm light overhead. His head was throbbing, but it was distant. Turning his head slightly, his gaze fell on a head of dark hair streaked with gray resting on his bed. He breathed out and stared at the man holding his hand for a moment before he gathered enough energy to speak.

"Father," he croaked out.

Savan moved to sit up, but pain lanced across his chest.

His father sat up concern written all over his face. Savan could barely breathe at the surprise of seeing his father seated beside his bed holding his hand.

How had this happened?

"How—when—"

The words jumbled in his mind, and he could only gape like an idiot.

"Thank God you're awake," Choi Yang said. Squeezing his fingers gently, Choi Yang smiled in relief. "The doctor was worried when you didn't regain consciousness. You have a concussion and he wanted you awake every hour. I was starting to worry."

Savan nodded, but all he could think about was how his father was in Tokyo. In here with him, holding his hand like it was perfectly normal—he shook his head.

"Jiro—"

"He's in custody," Choi Yang assured him. "I'm going to make sure he pays for every wound you have endured for the last five years. Police shot his father dead this morning. It's over, SarEr."

It was over!

Just like that, all the running, the fear, the different names. Was it really so easy? Savan couldn't believe it. His fingers tangled with his father's warm ones.

"Dao Ming killed Mom. He killed her. When he told me, I wanted to kill him. I couldn't help it, I was so angry."

"I know," Choi Yang said. "I'm so sorry, son."

"What are you sorry for?" Savan shook his head. "This was Jiro and Dao Ming's fault. I wanted to keep you and Zun safe. His family was in trouble. Where is Zun? They told me he was going to be hurt if I didn't—"

Choi Yang rubbed his arm with a soothing murmur.

"Zun is safe. He and Ahmon are still dealing with the police, tying up all the loose ends in the investigation."

Savan closed his eyes in disbelief. It seemed surreal. The throbbing in his head was increasing, but he didn't want to sleep. He wanted to know more about how his father had found him. And if Cole was—

Cole!

_Savan sat_ up despite the pain in his chest.

"Cole, tell Liang to check on Cole Lucianne. They'll know whom I mean. They kidnapped me from his house, they drugged him but I couldn't be too sure. He might be—

"Cole is fine, SarEr," Choi Yang soothed.

His father stood and wrapped a gentle arm around his shoulders to give him a brief hug before he firmly pushed him back to lay on the pillows.

"Your ribs are pretty banged up, stop straining them, or the doctor won't be happy with me."

"You know," Savan asked in surprise, falling back on the pillows tired, suddenly realizing that his father was talking about Cole without any anger.

"I have known for a long time," Choi Yang replied. He arranged the covers over Savan with care. "SarEr, you're my son. What makes you think I wouldn't know everything about you?"

"Han." Savan frowned. Thinking about those last days before he'd left Hong Kong. Han had reported everything back to his father, he must have told him then.

"Of course," Choi Yang confirmed with a small smile. "He never gave up looking for you. He kept me sane when I thought you were dead. He gave me hope."

"I'm sorry," Savan apologized again.

He loved his father, and he could see the pain his disappearance had caused in those dark eyes and wished he could erase it all. What a mess.

"How did you find me?"

"Han did, through Ahmon Sanori," Choi Yang said, taking back his seat. He reclaimed Savan's hand turning it over to study the tattoo on his inner wrist. "I was afraid to believe it, but now that I see you," Choi Yang squeezed his fingers, "now that I feel you like this, I can't let you out of my sight. I want to take you home."

_Home_ , Savan couldn't help the shiver. His home was here, with Cole. He closed his eyes as a new thought filled him.

If his father knew about Cole, then Cole must—

"Does Cole know?"

"Yes, I told him everything, so did Zun and Ahmon. He was with us when we found you."

Savan felt tears prick the back of his eyes but he forced those emotions back. He couldn't. Not here in front of his father who needed him. He wasn't going to allow them out. The fact that Cole was not here in this room with him was enough of a message. He'd betrayed Cole's trust. There was nothing else to say. Breathing out the pain, Savan tried to ignore it.

Opening his eyes, he met his father's gaze and smiled.

"I can't wait to go home with you."

Choi Yang beamed.

Warmth seeped into his body. He'd missed seeing his father. It was hard to describe the emotions going through him. Leaning back on his pillow, he'd been running for so long, it felt strange to be so still. The fear was not gone yet but this warmth, this he could hold close. Maybe it would heal the pain of losing Cole.

***

Cole didn't notice the flowers dropping to the disinfected tiled floor. Moving away from the door, he leaned on the wall and closed his eyes. The love inside him turning to pain, deep pain that seeped into every part of his body, he couldn't move. His brain filled with Savan's little smile and the words that had come with it.

Savan was leaving him behind.

***

Chapter Eighteen

Cole sat in his living room drinking. It had been a longtime since he'd sat on a couch drinking. Ever since Danny's death, he thought sullenly. He wasn't sure why every time he considered making a commitment to another person, it all ended up a mess.

_A complete mess_ , he thought in disgust.

It didn't matter that Savan had lied to him about his name, his family and everything that mattered. All he knew was that he loved the man. The man he'd had in his bed for countless hours, talking, making love, sharing ideas and laughing.

He wanted that man.

Cole had been ready to tell Savan all that when he'd gone to the hospital. When he heard Savan say that he was going back to Hong Kong, pain he didn't understand had hit him deep. Taking a sip of red wine straight from the bottle, Cole cursed his selfish heart.

How could he fault Choi Yang for wanting to take his son home?

He'd spent time with the man, listened to him talk about his son, confess to missing him. He should be happy for both of them.

But—he wasn't.

Cole wanted Savan to stay. He wanted Savan to choose him and remain at Bovian Image. He didn't want to think that the man he loved was going to leave him behind without giving them a chance.

A knock came on the door, and Cole ignored it. The doorbell followed and rang several times, the sound of it making his head buzz.

Stretching out on the couch, he closed his eyes hoping that his visitor would leave. He wasn't up to talking to anyone right now. He wanted to be alone, wallowing was important too.

The lock beeped and the door opened. He cursed under his breath at the thought of seeing his brothers.

Why had he given them the code to his penthouse again?

They filed into his living room, stopping at the edge of the couch. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see their expressions.

"I thought it might have come to this." Antonio declared with that all knowing tone he liked to use. "Cole, stop pretending to be asleep, your grip on that wine bottle is a bit too secure."

Michael chuckled and Cole opened his eyes in time to see Michael sink into an armchair. Michael propped his legs on the wooden stool in front of him and reached for the television remote. Turning on the television, he started surfing the channels while Antonio went into the kitchen.

"What are you doing here?" Cole asked.

"We were worried when you didn't come to the office today. Yesterday, you weren't exactly yourself." Michael shrugged. "What's going on kiddo?"

"Nothing," Cole shrugged.

"I'm sure _'nothing'_ has everything to do with this story they've been running all evening?" Michael replied, adding the volume.

He'd apparently found a news channel.

Cole turned his head slightly to find clips of Savan's big rescue running. He couldn't remember any reporters, his thoughts had been so occupied on Savan, nothing else had mattered. He sat up a little to get a better view.

Top news today, law enforcement authorities have found the lost son of the Head of the Ashika Consortium, after a long search that ended in a brutal showdown at the Consortium's downtown offices. Sources close to the family confirm that an unidentified man kidnapped Master Choi Yang's son. Local Police rescued him this morning in a daring mission. Master Choi Yang's son was rushed to a nearby hospital due to injuries he sustained during his ordeal. Master Yang was unavailable for a statement, but the Ashika Assistant director, Mr. Ahmon Sanori, released a statement on his behalf.

Ahmon looked impeccable in a dark suit when he came up on the screen. He stood behind a podium outside the Ashika headquarters, looking refreshed and alert. No one could guess he'd been running wild all night searching for Savan.

"On behalf of Master Yang, I would like to thank you all for your support and wishes. It was a difficult search, but we are all relieved and happy to have Master Yang's son safe and sound where he belongs. Those responsible are now in custody and will face the full force of the law. For now, this is all we have. I'll release a more detailed statement later. Thank you again for your support."

With a curt nod at the members of the press corps, Ahmon went back into the building as the reporters broke into a frenzy of questions. Michael lowered the volume as the presenter continued with her report.

"So, this nothing you don't want to talk about, does it have to do with Savan being the 'lost son'?" Michael asked, glancing at him. "How come you didn't tell us anything?"

"I didn't know."

Cole sunk back into his couch pillows and tried to close out the ongoing report that was detailing the numerous times Choi Yang had made appeals to the public to help find his son. The despair in the man's voice was so evident it was hard not to ignore. Closing his eyes, he thought about Choi Yang holding on to Savan's hand at the hospital.

"Savan is going back to Hong Kong with his father. That's where he belongs, which is all that matters."

Antonio returned from the kitchen carrying a coffee tray, which he placed on the coffee table. Taking the bottle of wine away from Cole, he placed a cup of strong coffee on the stool beside the couch.

"So, you're sad that he's leaving. It's obvious you're in love with him, hence the drinking. Shouldn't you try to sort this out?" Antonio asked.

Cole glared at his oldest brother and sat up slowly, a hand pressed to his head. He usually tried not to get drunk, but he'd needed to blunt the pain. A picture of a younger Savan, this one with black hair cut neatly, innocent dark eyes and a smile came on the screen. His brow creased in a frown. It was hard to reconcile the picture with the man he knew.

_It was the eyes_ , Cole thought. Savan's eyes were anything but innocent. He'd seen too much, been through too much, to still be the boy they were showing on the screen.

"Did you get to talk to him?" Antonio asked, as the footage returned to the big rescue.

Cole finally noticed that he had been pushing the stretcher alongside Choi Yang. Once Savan was in the ambulance, he let go and Choi Yang had gotten in to the back. The doors hadn't closed immediately, his eyes widened when he noticed that Choi Yang had been waving him in, but Cole refused.

He hadn't been aware of doing that.

Cole reached for his coffee and took a sip. Choi Yang had asked him to come along and he'd refused.

"It's amazing how these things happen." Antonio mused, taking a seat in the armchair across Michael. "Master Nan is so hard to get a hold of. I've tried reaching out to him before and failed. He is a portal of investment and getting to him is like climbing Everest fifty times. You go out with a hair stylist and he ends up being the lost son of the man."

"It doesn't matter. Savan is leaving." Cole put the cup down and sat back. "If you're thinking of investments, you had better throw that idea away. I'm not going to capitalize on this. You have no idea what it was like for them."

"What are you doing here then?" Michael asked. "Why aren't you beside Savan in the hospital?"

"I'm giving him time with his father. They have a lot of catching up to do."

"Come on, that is an excuse and you know it." Antonio sipped his coffee, and turned to meet Cole's mutinous gaze. "If you notice, they didn't mention Savan's name at all, which means the decision to leave has not been made yet."

"I went to the hospital." Cole confessed quietly. "An hour ago, I was standing outside Savan's private hospital room, with a bunch of flowers, ready to face it all. I overhead him telling his father that he was going back with him. I can't compete with that."

"Compete with what?" Michael frowned. "You're not intimidated by Savan being Master Choi Yang's son are you?"

"You have no idea what is expected of him. I was there last night, watching Ahmon and all he was doing. They moved mountains last night. Things you and I cannot even imagine, they did in minutes when they were looking for Savan. That is his life, his world." Cole shook his head. "I don't know if I fit in it."

"Are you making this about status?" Michael chuckled in disbelief. "You're turning into mother. If you didn't notice, you have only known Savan as a hairstylist. Working a unisex salon in Harajuku, walking around looking like a punk, do you think he cares about power?"

"Savan doesn't know who he is yet." Cole decided. "He's been running for so long, I think he has forgotten what he should be."

"Or maybe, you're being an idiot." Antonio lifted a brow at him and shook his head. "If I married the Princess of Jordan, I hope you wouldn't treat me this way."

"You're already married, you idiot."

"I'm just saying," Antonio replied with a sigh. "Well, since you've decided to sulk, we have no choice but to turn this place into a party. The girls are on their way. A few people from the office, and I asked Yui to bring her friends over."

"Oh no," Cole sighed.

"Yep, no moping around by yourself," Michael said standing up, he stretched his arms over his head and let out a loud yawn. "I'm going to raid your kitchen. I'm starving."

It didn't take long for his penthouse to fill with people. Cole sat on the couch listening to Michael's wife talk about a house she was thinking of buying her mother. Antonio's wife took charge of the food, and the guests who filed into the penthouse. The quiet Cole had been craving quickly disappeared, and the pain retreated for now.

***

"How is he?" Savan asked Ahmon two weeks later.

Savan was staying at the Ashika House, with Liang and his father because the loft was undergoing a complete remodel. After all the destruction, it had felt like a war zone and he hadn't wanted to see it.

Liang was working the salon while Savan recuperated. On top of healing his bruised body, Savan also spent his time talking to Inspectors about Jiro's case, providing statements detailing the hell they'd had to live through. An exercise that left him exhausted each night.

However, when he went to bed, Savan spent his nights wishing for Cole.

"Immersed in work," Ahmon replied. "He spends his evenings with his brothers, holding endless parties, and then he wakes up in the morning and heads to work."

Turning away from the view of the compound, Savan's gaze settled on the documents laid out on the desk in the study room. Ahmon sat on the couch, feet resting on the coffee table. He was deceptively browsing on his laptop but Savan knew different. Ahmon was watching him keenly, from the corner of his eye.

"How did it go with the Inspectors today?" Savan asked, going to sit in the chair behind the desk.

It was already four o'clock in the evening. The days were moving fast. He had only three days left before he was to return to Hong Kong. An hour ago, police in Hong Kong had officially charged Jiro Nang with kidnap and murder. The evidence they had accumulated over the years and the testimonies from him, Liang and Xiao Wei had all played a large role. The official trial was the main reason why he had to return to Hong Kong, on top of other things. He still couldn't believe the ordeal was over. Every time he woke up in the morning, he kept thinking that he might be dreaming.

As if sensing his thoughts, Ahmon assured him.

"It's over, Savan. All that's left is for you to make your peace with it."

"That's easier said than done." Hands splayed over the documents on the table, Savan looked at Ahmon. "Thank you for your efforts, and for helping Liang."

"I couldn't have done it without Cole's help." Ahmon confessed, putting his feet down he sat up. "Are you sure you don't want to go see him? You can talk to him instead of having people watch him all the time."

"I can't."

Ever since he'd woken up to find Cole was not by his side, Savan had known things would never be the same between them. There was too much to explain, so much he didn't know how to explain.

"It's better this way. What are these documents? I thought I signed all the papers the Inspectors wanted?"

"Those are from your father's lawyer. Those documents will officially make you his heir. That way there will be no more confusion on what is what for everyone."

"Meaning I have to take up responsibilities from today if I sign these."

"That was going to happen the moment we found you. No more running around like a punk, Savan. You might have to give up the motorcycle."

"Who is a punk?" Savan made a face at Ahmon before he returned his attention to the papers before him. Picking up the pen beside them, he stared at the first page.

Was he ready for this?

Five years of running was a lot to erase. Dao Ming and his son had kept him away from home because of revenge after they had killed his mother.

Closing his eyes, Savan rubbed his forehead.

"Savan, you were always going to end up here. I think you've more than earned the position," Ahmon said into the silence. "I wouldn't have had the courage to keep going as long as you did."

"It was cowardly, running." Savan dropped the pen down and sunk his fingers into his hair. "Five years, Ahmon, blindly moving from city to city without wanting to know why, don't you think it was foolish? I lost five years with my father because of revenge."

"You were protecting him and two other people. You did what you needed to do. As for those years, get them back. Be by your father's side and show that bastard that nothing changed."

"Ahmon is right, son." Choi Yang's voice startled him and he looked up to find his father standing at the entrance watching him. "Nothing has changed the fact that you're still my son. It's a fact that will never change."

The words healed the scars in his heart but uncertainty still ruled. A quick perusal of the family business and its interest left him sweating. There was a lot he didn't know, a lot to learn.

"I don't know very much about the company, or the Ashika Consortium." Savan wasn't even sure he could grasp that kind of responsibility. "So many lives will be depending on my decisions."

"You will do fine. You protected three lives with such capability. It shouldn't be any different. And there is the success of Bovian Image. I've read up on it, your numbers are very good, in fact, you've been holding it back."

Choi Yang moved to sit across Ahmon.

"Why?" Ahmon asked.

"We didn't advertise very much. It would have drawn too much attention," Savan explained with a shrug.

He didn't need to explain more about why press exposure would have been a negative thing for him and Liang.

"Working with me will be no different from running Bovian Image." Choi Yang lifted a brow at him in challenge. "It's all up to you. I don't see any other obstacle."

Savan picked up the pen and stared at the tip for a moment. His thoughts lingered on Cole. He wished he could see him one more time before he left. Have one more night with him. Biting his lip hard he chastised himself for dreaming and signed the papers then without hesitation.

***

On the night of his departure for Hong Kong, Savan signed over his share of Bovian Image to Xiao Wei and Liang. Walking through the salon one last time, he paused at the reception desk thinking of the staff, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Xiao Wei asked, shell-shocked by the gift he was giving.

She'd settled very well into the loft upstairs, and being close to Liang was bringing her smile back.

It was everything she deserved, Savan decided. Savan stepped up to her and hugged her. Closing his eyes when she ran rubbed his back, he let out a breath to curb his emotions.

"Let me do this for you."

"But you've already done so much," she said.

"Think of it as a gift for Mei then. Take care of Bovian Image and Zun."

Xiao Wei sighed and patted his shoulder when he pulled back.

"You will come back to visit? The staff will miss you, and your skills."

"I'll come by when I can." Savan promised, kissing her cheek. He turned to Liang who was leaning on the reception desk with a closed expression.

"I have to go," he said to his best friend.

Liang nodded and stepped up to hug him tightly. Clearing his throat, Liang stepped back and ruffled Savan's mink black hair.

"Call me when you get there."

"I will." Savan promised forcing a smile on his face.

His driver honked outside and he sighed. Giving Xiao Wei one last hug, he waved goodbye and hurried out. As the car pulled away from the parking lot, Savan gave Bovian Image one last glance before he turned forward to face his future.

***

Chapter Nineteen

Cole couldn't take the separation anymore. Two weeks of not seeing Savan was driving him insane and he'd had enough. The over-friendly receptionist at Bovian Image grinned like a Cheshire cat when he saw him. Rushing around his desk, Richie took his hand.

"What are you doing here? I thought you might have gone with Boss man. My goodness, you smell so good."

"Wore it just for you," Cole smiled at Richie's enthusiasm and looked around the packed reception area. "Is Liang around? I need to talk to him."

"Good timing, he's in the office upstairs. If you can, please shake him out of the funk, it's getting to be a bore."

Cole thanked Richie and headed for the elevators. Liang was busy talking on the phone when Cole got to his office. Pausing at the entrance for a moment, he looked down the hall to the Salon Director's office.

_Savan's office_ , he thought.

A pang of excitement danced through him when he noted that the door was open. Since Liang was still on the phone, Cole walked to the open door and peeped inside. His anticipation disappeared when he saw the short slightly round woman going through filed documents behind Savan's desk.

She looked up when she saw him and gave him a warm smile.

"How can I help you?"

"Why are you in Savan's office?" he demanded.

A frown creased her smooth forehead and she stood up slowly.

"I'm Xiao Wei. This is my office now. Master Savan has gone on a trip. He's left my son and me in charge. Please tell me how I can help you."

"Gone?"

What did she mean? How could Savan leave without telling him?

This had to be a mistake. Turning away from the intruding woman, Cole walked back to Liang's office. The phone call was over, but Liang was frantically rifling through more papers.

"Where is Savan?"

Liang glanced up.

"Cole! I didn't see you come in. Please sit. You look like you might pass out. Damn, this morning has been busy. I didn't think I'd be so swamped."

"Where is he, Liang? Why didn't he tell me he was leaving?"

"You left first," Liang reminded him. "He waited for you to come to the hospital and you didn't even call. Even two weeks after he was out, he still waited. You dropped the ball first."

"That's unfair." Cole shook his head refusing to sit.

Instead, he paced the length of Liang's elegant but clearly busy office. Papers and different hair product bottles piled on the large main desk. Along the walls were more cabinets, some were open showing off their contents. While neatly arranged, they spoke of Liang's busy morning.

Giving the disarray an annoyed glance, Cole snapped.

"Get an assistant to help you with all this."

"Didn't need one before," Liang said, straightening up behind his desk. "Cole, what did you think would happen? Since you knew the whole story, you not being at the hospital would have meant it was all too much. You know Savan. He gave you the space you needed."

"He's gone back to Hong Kong then." Cole closed his eyes in frustration. Shaking his head, he sighed. "He's the one who is not being fair. I—I needed him to call me, Liang."

Liang sighed and pulled open a drawer on the left side of his desk. Reaching inside, he held out a small black phone seconds later.

"I figured you'd both end up like the idiots you are. I can't watch it. Here, take this."

Taking the phone, Cole stared at it in confusion.

"What is this for?"

"Savan left for Hong Kong last night. He is now officially part of his father's business. There is also Jiro Nang's case. I'm not even sure he can come back. There are too many things to take care of, however, he promised to call me on that phone when he can."

Cole's eyes widened in realization.

"So, who's the woman in his office?"

"She's my Mom." Liang declared with a blinding smile. "Savan signed over Bovian Image to us. It's the reason why I'm so swamped."

"He's not coming back?" Just the thought of it made Cole sick. Never seeing Savan again was not an option. "I'll go see him then."

"Relax, why don't you two talk first?" Liang chuckled and sat back down, returning to his papers. "You really are over the hill. I would have thought the danger would put you off."

"Hey," Cole shoved the phone into his pocket. "Haven't you ever heard of 'don't judge a book by its cover'?"

"Please leave now and let me drown in work. Savan will call that phone, believe me."

"I didn't give up." Cole felt compelled to say. "I needed time to think, Liang."

"I'm on your side, already, now go."

Liang waved him off with a glare.

Cole smiled and left Liang's office. He headed back to Savan's office. Liang's mom gave him a wary look when he walked in. Bowing his head slightly to show respect, Cole held out his hand.

"My name is Cole Lucianne. I'm sorry I was so rude before. I was in a bit of a panic."

"You're Cole?" Xiao Wei asked, with an instant smile.

She stood up and took his hand in hers.

"I've heard a lot about you from the least expected of places. I'm happy to finally meet you."

"I wanted to apologize for my earlier behavior. I'm on my way out—

"Nonsense, come on, have a seat." She walked around the desk and led him to a neat sitting area complete with a coffee table. "I'll send for tea. I've known SarEr since he was a little boy."

_A little boy_ , Cole mused.

The urge to leave disappeared and he sat willingly. Savan had spent all his free time talking to Mika and looking at pictures of when Cole was a kid during his visit at his mother's house. He wasn't about to pass on an opportunity to know more about Savan's childhood. Xiao Wei took his hand as she sat down, giving it a squeeze.

***

"SarEr, are you sure you want to do this?" Choi Yang clamped a hand on his shoulder and stopped him from going into the room. "You don't have to do it, this is completely unnecessary."

"I need to see him, Dad. I have to." Meeting his father's gaze, Savan tried to express the urge to face Jiro, because words were obviously failing him. "Please let me do this."

Choi Yang's hand fell off his shoulder, and he nodded.

"Fine, but I'm sending Han in with you."

"Dad—"

"No arguments." Choi Yang nodded for Han to follow and he sighed.

It had taken a massive argument just to do this much.

Savan gave Han a hard glance, warning him not to interfere when they got into the interview room. He'd been thinking about what he was going to tell Jiro Nang throughout his flight to Hong Kong. His thoughts ranging from raving anger, to stabbing words that would make him feel vindicated for the loss of five years.

When Savan opened the door and saw Jiro Nang seated in a hard metal chair, his hands cuffed, he realized he just wanted to know why.

Walking to the chair placed directly across Jiro Nang, Savan took his time studying the bastard.

Five years ago, Jiro had been a punk with spiky hair and hateful eyes. Now, he faced a man, his head bald thanks to the booking process. He was in navy blue overalls, prison issued, a black eye shone on his right eye, Savan noted with satisfaction. He was sad that it hadn't been him to do it. Jiro was bulkier than he remembered, even a bit taller.

When Jiro looked up, his dark eyes were blank, nothing to read in there.

Savan cursed under his breath.

"Have you come to gloat, Prince?" Jiro asked, using his old nickname.

It didn't annoy him like it had then. Not now, not after all he'd been through.

"Why?"

"Why what," Jiro asked.

"Why did you do it?"

"I hate you," Jiro answered with a shrug. "You were over privileged, spoiled and still managed to make friends with paupers so that you looked saintly. It was irritating."

"I want the truth, Jiro." Savan leaned forward on the desk and glared into the dead dark eyes. "You are family. Why didn't you talk to me? Why didn't you seek my father's help since you ended up so close to him?"

"Family," Jiro scoffed. "How can you still be this naïve? I don't care what we are to each other. Revenge was all that mattered."

"Don't lie to yourself. Your father didn't give a damn about you. He was a murdering, selfish bastard who died as he should have." Savan spat out. "Why would you follow such a man?"

"He was my father," Jiro replied simply. "The same reason you left, when I threatened you, is the same reason I followed my father."

"How noble of you, Jiro. It's very surprising. You are not the type to spew such nonsense. I've hated you for so long, it's exhausting."

Jiro smiled: an ugly cruel smile that contorted his face.

At another time, Savan would have been shaking at the sight of that smile. He had run away because of the intent behind that smile five years ago. Now, it seemed comical for Jiro to be smiling like that while cuffed to a chair, his life now bound to a murder conviction. That smile didn't sicken Savan anymore instead, it made him pity Jiro.

"My father was right." Savan stood up abruptly. "I didn't need to come here. You don't matter anymore."

"Now you're the one lying to yourself. You needed to see me sitting here to feel safe, didn't you, SarEr? I took you away from your home, got you scared and running all over the world. Living like a shadow, skulking and scavenging, it was pitiful really. I thought my people had gotten you in New Caledonia. They should have. Those gunshots should have hit your friend but when you took them, I prayed you'd die. I was very disappointed when you lived. Look at you now. You left your lover, didn't you? Does he know? Did he walk away from you once he found out the truth? That you're a coward who can't stand up to bullies."

Pushing the table away, Savan grabbed Jiro by the neck, fingers digging into thick tendons. His palm pressing against Jiro's larynx making him choke. He pushed harder until those dark eyes widened in panic.

"Do you feel that? Your chest will start burning soon. If I push harder, you'll suffocate to death. Don't ever think you know anything about me. You took me to a place where I had to throw away many things. I learned hard lessons that took away the puny little boy you bullied. I don't need you to tell me I'm safe, you idiot. Count yourself lucky that I didn't get to you before the police did. You'd have followed your father's fate."

Letting go of Jiro, Savan wiped his hand on Jiro's navy blue overalls, and stepped back.

"We're even, Jiro Nang."

Turning, Savan met Han's gaze for a moment. Pride reflected in Han's eyes and he smiled slightly as Han opened the door for him. Without looking back at Jiro, Savan led the way out of the interview room.

***

Carrying a bunch of chrysanthemums, Savan walked with his father to Ariel Nan's grave. They stopped before her head stone and Savan felt relief flood him. He had spent five years wishing for this moment. Reading the headstone, he bowed in respect.

Bending, he placed the flowers on the base of his mother's headstone. Choi Yang lit the incense and they both stepped back watching the scent drift into the open air.

"Dad, I remember the day she died," he confessed. "When Dao Ming had me, I kept having the same dream over and over, it was horrible and I wanted to escape it, but it was a memory."

"I had hoped you wouldn't remember."

Choi Yang turned to look at him, sympathy in his eyes.

Savan closed his eyes, his thoughts filling with that moment.

There had been an argument right at the door of his bedroom. His mother had come in to wake him and help him get dressed.

' _As long as I'm alive, you won't manage it. My son's destiny is his own. I won't let you take it from him.'_

Ariel had suddenly been lying over him in his bed, her breath harsh as she wrapped him in her arms tightly.

' _Happy Birthday my darling,' she said. 'I'm so proud of you. Be anything you want but don't leave your Papa alone.'_

The hug she gave him then was the last. When his father had walked into see what was taking them so long, he'd broken down in hysteria.

"I found her lying over you, two bullets in her back." Choi Yang reached out to take Savan's hand. "Your mother protected you, SarEr. I knew it the moment I saw her body covering yours. She was beautiful and brave, and she loved you so much. I'm sorry for the way you had to grow up when she left us."

"There will be no more apologies." Savan squeezed his father's hand. "I think we should do the best we can to live now."

"In that case, tell me, are you going to give up on that nice young boy named Cole?" Choi Yang asked.

They turned away from the grave and started the long walk back to the main house. The weather was bright, flowers were blooming in the gardens, the grass a perfect green. As they walked along the cobbled path to the house, Savan couldn't help the smile.

"Cole is hardly a boy, Dad."

"He was very worried for you when we were looking for you. He has mettle, very strong too."

"Strong mettle," Savan laughed. "Gosh, I've missed your philosophy. Cole is just Cole, Dad. He doesn't give up on people even when he should."

"Meaning you tried to give up on him and he wouldn't let you."

"Several times," Savan confirmed.

"I like him, bring him to visit me often," Choi Yang said, his hands clasped behind his back.

When Savan stopped in surprise, Choi Yang turned to look at him with a raised brow.

"What?"

"You don't want me to stay here?" Savan frowned. "I mean—I'm working for you now, and the Ashika Consortium. Staying in Japan would be impossible, right?"

Choi Yang walked back to him and shook his head.

"You have a life there. The secrets are secondary, judging from the pictures Ahmon gave me. You care about Cole. I couldn't ask you to give that up."

"Dad, what are you saying?"

"You can work for me from anywhere, son. The only thing I ask is for you not to neglect me."

Happiness bloomed inside of him so bright, Savan couldn't help hugging his father. Grinning wide, he stepped back meeting amused dark eyes.

"Thank you, Dad. I promise to bring Cole to meet you often."

***

Cole was getting ready to leave his office two days after his visit to Bovian Image, when the phone Liang had given him buzzed on the desk. He'd been staring at it for more hours than he dared admit these past two days. As the hours passed and it remained silent, he'd started to think that it might never ring.

Grabbing it, he sunk into his chair, staring at the international number on the caller ID. Feeling like a fledgling, he hit the answer button and brought it to his ear.

"Hello."

Savan launched into rapid Chinese on the other end. The sound of his voice sent a thrill through Cole. He hadn't heard Savan's voice in weeks.

"Liang?"

"It's not Liang," he said. "It's Cole."

"Cole?" There was a short pause before Savan continued in Japanese. "Is Liang alright? Did something happen to him?"

"No, he's fine. He gave me the phone, told me you'd call. You left without saying goodbye. I was worried."

"I'm sorry about that." Savan stopped and cleared his throat on the other side. "I'm back in Tokyo. Where are you right now?"

"You're back!" Cole jumped to his feet in excitement. "I mean—Uhm...I'm in my office. Where are _you_ right now?"

"At the airport, almost anyway, the plane hasn't landed. I was going to call Liang to tell him—"

"I'll pick you up." Cole reached for his car keys and glanced at his watch. "I'll make it to the airport in forty minutes. Wait for me, alright."

When silence met him, he repeated.

"Wait for me, Savan."

***

Chapter Twenty

The traffic was a nightmare.

Cole found himself wishing for Ahmon's mad driving skills when the forty-minute mark he'd given Savan passed and he still had about halfway to go. One speeding ticket and an angry series of honks for cutting people off in traffic, he finally made it to the bloody airport. It was already seven o'clock in the evening. It seemed as though the entire nation was traveling at night. How frustrating.

Parking in the short-term lot, Cole rushed into the arrivals lobby hoping that Savan hadn't decided to leave. He'd spent an hour and thirty minutes on the road. Calling the number Savan had used, he cursed when it rang unanswered.

Trying again, Cole looked around the waiting lobby and when no one answered his call, he sighed in defeat. Putting the phone in his jacket pocket, he wondered if Savan's flight was delayed.

Savan would have waited for him.

"Hey, Cole. You're late."

Turning around, Cole smiled when he saw his elusive lover sitting on a wide bench by the windows, his feet folded.

In ink black jeans, jacket and boots, Savan hardly looked like the executive he was supposed to be. His hair was black and wild, falling over his eyes again, Cole thought with a shake of his head.

God, he'd missed looking at Savan.

The earrings were back, down Savan's left earlobe. He was chewing a licorice stick, and didn't move when Cole walked to him.

Savan's eyes narrowed at him then he pointed to the watch at his wrist.

"You're an hour late. We need to show you how to drive."

"You mean Ahmon's type of driving skills? He's a maniac on the road." Cole smiled, crouching down so that he was looking up into Savan's face. He placed a hand on Savan's knee. "I missed you so much."

The scent of licorice filled his nostrils when Savan wrapped his arms around him in a hug. Cole closed his eyes when Savan buried his face into his shoulder with a soft sigh. His warm breathe tickled Cole's neck. The busy airport faded away as he held Savan in his arms too.

Rubbing Savan's back, Cole felt his heart fill with contentment.

"I'm sorry for everything," Savan murmured after a while, his voice soft at his ear. "I didn't mean for you to be caught up in the madness."

"We should talk in a quieter place."

Cole started to pull back but Savan wouldn't let him.

"Please, listen to me." Savan insisted. "You got me through those three days with that maniac. All I could think about was that short vacation we took to your home. And that Sunday morning, lazing away the hours in your bed. Do you remember that morning?"

"I remember." Cole opened his eyes, his fingers sweeping into Savan's hair. "That day got me through too, my love. I was worried sick, they kept saying you might die. It was hell."

"Thank you for staying with my father through it," Savan said. "I have no more secrets, Cole, I promise. I don't have any other aliases. No one planning to kill me that I know of."

Letting go, Savan sat back on the bench and looked into his eyes.

"Uh, I do have a shadow you're going to have to put up with. He comes with the package."

Savan nodded to his left and Cole turned to see a bald headed man standing a few feet away in a black long coat.

It was Han.

Frowning, Cole turned to Savan to find him holding out his right hand. The silver rings on Savan's hand shining in the light. Amused by the gesture, Cole obliged him, holding the slender fingers in his.

Savan smiled then, the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen on Savan's handsome face.

"Hi, I'm SarEr Nan, but most people know me by my alias, Savan Bovian. I think you're really hot and I love you."

"I love you too, and I'm not letting you walk—" before he could say more, Savan pressed hot lips on his, kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

Forgetting they were in an airport, Cole closed his eyes and basked in Savan's declaration, kissing Savan back.

The past didn't matter, he thought with a smile. Having Savan in his arms, was all he ever wanted. They would sort out the rest in time.

***

The End

***

About Author

Suilan Lee loves writing fiction, and romantic stories. Suilan loves to travel, eat japchae ( _Korean stir fry noodles_ ), reading, watching dramas and hanging out with friends. If you catch her on a really good day, she'll make you a delicious Masala tea.

Connect with me Online:

**Twitter:** Sui's Tweets

**Facebook:** Suilan Lee on Facebook

Follow Sui's Blog

Read Other Books by Suilan
