Chapter 3: Seducing Danger, Guarding Secrets

The crew was by the elevator, and the boss was standing at the half-open door. His face was as red as yesterday, even his ears, and he glared at me like he was both furious and mortified.

He looked like he wanted to murder me and kiss me at the same time. Not a bad combo, honestly.

"Ahem, don’t go talking crazy out there. Jamie, get in here," he barked, voice sharp but tinged with embarrassment. As soon as the door closed, one of the crew draped a jacket over me and, all shy, asked:

"Big sis-in-law, you going back to your room to rest?" The nickname always made me cringe, but it was just their way of joking—like calling me the boss’s wife or something. I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help but smile a little. I paused, then shrugged. "No need."

I just wanted the boss to stay away from Jamie. Period.

But honestly, Jamie was just a catalyst. If it wasn’t him, it’d be someone else—guys like Will, Tony—always trying to get close to the boss. He attracted trouble like flies to honey.

In the end, the real problem was the mastermind—Marcus Whitfield.

Just hearing his name sent a chill down my spine. Marcus was the type who could charm your mom and steal your wallet in the same breath. He and the boss went way back—maybe too far back.

I sat on the bed, chain-smoking, not sure where to start. My fingers shook as I lit cigarette after cigarette, ash piling up in the tray. The room was thick with smoke and worry. Marcus and the boss had known each other since they were kids. Even after years apart, when they finally met again, they picked up right where they left off—tighter than brothers.

Marcus once took a knife for the boss, nearly lost a kidney.

The story was legend—everyone in the crew knew it. Marcus bled out on a hotel carpet, grinning the whole time, just to save the boss. Loyalty like that is rare in our world. Or so we thought.

If I told anyone Marcus wanted to kill the boss, I’d probably be the first to go. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it either.

My gut twisted. I couldn’t shake the memory—the way Marcus looked at the boss, the way his smile never quite reached his eyes. There was something off, something I couldn’t pin down, but it made my skin crawl.

"Mase, what’s up? The whole room reeks of smoke," Eddie said, wrinkling his nose as he plopped down across from me.

Eddie was my closest guy. Always the first to notice when something was off. Loyal, sharp, and just dumb enough to ask the questions nobody else dared.

"Boss mad at you? Kicking you out?" he teased.

I kicked him. He yelped, but didn’t take it personally. "Shut up," I grunted.

"I’m just saying, if you wanna get close to those big shots—no, even just to get in their orbit—what’s the fastest way?" Eddie started, then hesitated, looking like he was about to say something, then thought better of it.

He looked at me, then away. "You’re not actually gonna seduce the boss, are you?" he asked, eyes wide.

I kicked him again. "With this face? You call this seduction?"

Eddie rubbed his nose, grinning, trying to lighten the mood. "You’re not bad looking, just a little rough. Straight guys might not go for it, but plenty of gay dudes would."

The boss’s terrified face flashed in my mind. I snorted. "You know too much—I’m scared to talk to you now."

For about a week after that, the boss went out without me.

He said he wanted me to rest up.

I didn’t get why he was hanging out with Jamie again.

And I had no idea how Jamie got tangled up with Marcus in the last life, so I spent the time staking out Marcus’s nightclub.

The place was all neon and shadows, thumping bass and whispered deals. I watched from the alley, keeping tabs on everyone who went in and out. On the third day, he invited me in.

Marcus sat on the couch, legs crossed, eyeing me with a sly grin.

He looked like a king holding court, whiskey in hand, silk shirt unbuttoned just enough to flash his expensive watch. "Mason, why not come in and sit? Why keep squatting out there?"

What was I supposed to say?

I’m watching you. If you’ve got a problem, come at me—just don’t touch my boss.

"I, uh, I just wanted…" I fumbled, feeling like a total idiot. Before I could think of anything else, someone came in to say Jamie was looking for him.

Could this be when the two of them started getting close?

I felt a chill crawl up my spine. Was this the moment everything started to unravel?

If you want to do big things, you can’t sweat the details.

That’s what the boss always said. Whether it works or not, I’ll try seducing him first!

So I rushed up to Marcus, dropping to one knee. It was dramatic, over-the-top, but why not? "I’ve admired you for a long time. I was squatting outside just to sneak a look at you and ease my lovesickness!"

Marcus’s hand, holding his whiskey glass, trembled. He glanced at the door, then suddenly smiled.

He leaned in, voice low and dangerous. "So you secretly like me? Why didn’t you say so earlier?"

The next second, the boss walked in, face thunderous, radiating cold.

The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. I could feel his eyes boring into me. I instinctively wanted to go to him, but Marcus grabbed my wrist and patted my face.

"Sit tight. We’ll talk about us later," he whispered, grinning.

Time dragged on. Jamie sat beside the boss, I sat beside Marcus.

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. The boss didn’t look at me once, and that was scarier than any glare.

I didn’t hear a word of what he and Marcus talked about.

My mind was a blur. I kept glancing over, hoping for a sign—a glance, a nod, anything. But he never looked my way.

I really don’t get it—why didn’t anyone tell me my boss was here? Am I less important than Jamie?

The thought stung. I’d always been the one at his side. Now I felt invisible.

"Mason! Mason!" Marcus pinched my waist and I snapped back to attention.

He smirked. "Aren’t you going to see the boss off?"

I started to get up, but the boss’s "No need" cut me off.

His voice was cold, final. My heart felt like a stone—heavy and sour.

I knew he misunderstood, but it still hurt.

As the door was about to close, I caught a glimpse of his blank face, his back turning away as cold as a soap opera heroine storming out of a daytime drama. He looked like he was walking out of my life, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. But wasn’t Jamie right next to him?

Marcus blocked the doorway, grinning.

He was eating this up. "Now, let’s talk about your secret crush on me."

Marcus wanted me to prove I was serious.

How?

I swallowed hard. "I… I don’t know how…"

Marcus smiled and led me to the penthouse suite.

The elevator ride was silent, tense. The suite was all glass and steel, city lights stretching out forever. While rummaging through boxes, he told me to undress.

I hesitated, and in that moment, he was already sitting on the bed holding a leather belt.

He looked me up and down, eyebrow cocked. "Need my help?"

Seeing his hand about to pull up my shirt, I panicked and blurted out:

"Can we talk about feelings first?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "Feelings? I’m already in the mood, and you want me to cool off?"

"Please, I… I’m kind of shy," I stammered, honestly just trying to stall. The marks on my body hadn’t faded yet.

I shifted awkwardly, tugging at my sleeves. Marcus agreed—on the condition that I wear ankle cuffs and sit on the bed to talk.

The room fell quiet for a while.

I stared at the floor, heart pounding. "Why aren’t you talking? Didn’t you want to talk about feelings?"

I’d never dated anyone, didn’t know how couples talked—let alone guys.

After racking my brain, the boss’s face popped into my mind.

His eyes, his laugh, the way he always called me by my full name when he was pissed. Gritting my teeth, I started lying.

"Actually, the first time I saw you, my heart beat fast, but I’d never dated, so I didn’t know what it meant. Even though you’re always busy and usually holed up talking business, I can only wait outside, but seeing you makes me happy, and not seeing you makes me miss you. A few days ago, I had a dream—you… you were taken by someone else. So the first thing I did when I woke up was look for you. I don’t care about being an underling anymore, I just want to tell you, seriously… I… My feelings." I stumbled over the words, pausing, swallowing hard, letting the silence stretch before I finished.

The words tumbled out, half-truths and half-lies. Marcus’s eyes suddenly cleared!

He turned his head away, ears tinged red.

He looked almost… shy. "Didn’t think you’d even remember our first meeting…"

"Huh?" I said, caught off guard.

He came over, hand on the back of my neck, getting closer and closer.

His breath was warm on my cheek. "Why aren’t you closing your eyes? I’m going to kiss you."

I can’t do this. Seriously, are all these bosses nuts?!

In my panic, I glanced at the chain around his neck.

Desperate for a distraction, I blurted, "I… I don’t want to go too fast. It makes me nervous. At least give me something to remember you by. How about this chain? And your watch, your briefcase, your jacket… haha, I just want to see them all."

He hesitated, took off the chain, but didn’t hand it over.

He weighed it in his hand. "If you want so much, you should give me something back."

I searched all my pockets but had nothing to give.

All I had was lint, a stick of gum, and my old red thread bracelet. Marcus’s gaze lingered on me, then he grabbed my wrist.

"This red thread looks nice. I’ll take it," he said, eyeing it curiously. In some cultures, the red thread means fate or connection, but for me, it was just… important.

No way.

This bracelet was from the boss.

Ten years ago, I ran away from my foster family, starved for a week, and was lying half-dead in an alley when the boss found me while out on business.

He was just muscle then, with a nasty temper. He kicked me, saw I was still breathing, and for some reason took pity on me and brought me back.

Later, he made up an excuse, saying I looked like I could fight.

But back then, I was even skinnier than Jamie.

The first three days after he took me in, I had a fever and was out of it. From malnutrition, my stomach couldn’t even handle an egg.

Everyone said I wouldn’t make it through the fall.

The boss didn’t say a word, just went to the nearest church in the city and picked up this bracelet for me.

It was a cheap little thing, just a red thread and a pewter cross, but he said it would keep me safe. I’ve worn it for ten years.

I got better and stuck by him ever since.

He named me Mason, because there are seven days in a week, and if I could make it through another seven, I’d live a long life. Guess he figured I needed the luck.

"I can’t give you this red thread," I said, voice steady.

I steeled myself and kissed the corner of Marcus’s mouth.

It was quick, barely more than a brush, but it bought me a second. "I’ve given you my heart—that’s worth more than anything," I said, trying to sound smooth.

Taking advantage of his daze, I snatched the chain from his hand and stuffed it in my pocket.

Marcus’s eyes went dark red—anger, embarrassment, something wild—and he suddenly started yanking off his tie.

His hands were rough, impatient. My hands were twisted behind my back and bound tight with his tie.

Then I was blindfolded—everything went dark.

The world shrank to the heat of his body, the sound of his breathing. Warm breath ghosted against my neck.

Marcus grabbed my chin, tilted my head, and licked and bit my neck.

My body trembled uncontrollably with fear.

I only wanted to mess up whatever was going on between him and Jamie. With my rough looks, I definitely couldn’t seduce Marcus, so I gritted my teeth and just went for it.

But now, he actually seems interested in me. Go figure.

So what was Jamie in the last life?

The thought nagged at me, even as my heart pounded. In the moment I was distracted, Marcus started tugging up my shirt.

I broke out in a cold sweat from nerves.

Because with just a lift of his hand, he’d see the marks all over my body. Scars from fights, bruises from last night, reminders of everything I’d done for the boss. I held my breath, praying he wouldn’t ask questions I couldn’t answer.