*Ban**g*!.

A clean shot. Straight through the forehead.

The man’s body slumped in the chair, blood pooling at the back of his skull, soaking into the Persian rug like ink into silk.

..."Satoru Rei" didn’t blink....

He stood still—impeccably dressed in an all-black designer suit, gloves spotless save for the warm metal of the silenced pistol he now lowered at his side. The others in the room barely breathed.

The job was done. One more traitor to the Yurei Syndicate purged.

His silver hair fell messily across his forehead, damp with sweat, his steel-blue eyes cold and calculating behind the soft glow of the chandelier. There was no pleasure in the kill. No thrill.

Just business.

"Clean this up,” he muttered to the men behind him as he walked out, tucking the weapon back into his coat.

The night outside was cool, the city too loud. But it didn’t bother him.

Nothing ever did.

He got into the backseat of his slick black Maybach, but then paused. Something stirred in the air—something sharp and sweet.

A scent. Slightly provoking.

He stepped back out, brow twitching as he adjusted his cuffs, scanning the sidewalk like a wolf that smelled blood. His driver was about to speak, but froze at the sound.

...Crash....

...Glass....

Somewhere ahead, a second-floor window burst open.

Then—a body fell.

A girl. A mess of glitter, sweat, and torn satin. Her heels were gone, her knees bruised, her lip bleeding. She hit the pavement and rolled… then tried to run.

He watched her stumble. She was drunk—no, drugged.

Eyes hazy. Panicked. a heel in her hand like a weapon. She looked like she’d just fought her way out of hell.

"help..." she muttered

Then, right before collapsing, her gaze caught his.

And something flickered.

Not in her.

In him.

He crotched down and caught her before she fell face flat on the brick.

In his arms she was panting and shaking.

Time slowed.

Her bare thighs scraped. Her strapless dress had slipped low. Her chest heaved in short, ragged gasps.

"Faye Magdalene".

He didn’t know her name yet. But the moment he saw her, he knew—

She was a breathtaking.

“Sir?” his driver asked from the car.

Rei didn’t answer. He studied her. Her breathing was shallow. A pulse at her neck fluttered beneath skin so soft he almost forgot he had blood on his gloves.

A soft groan escaped her lips.

He should’ve called someone. Should’ve turned away.

But instead… he scooped her into his arms, stood, and said:

“Take us to the penthouse.”

The driver didn’t dare ask questions.

..

Inside the car, she whimpered something incoherent, one hand loosely gripping Rei’s lapel. Her face pressed to his chest.

And still…

No fear. Just carelessly dozing.

His eyes narrowed. He smirk holding her close.

“This is gonna be interesting.”

He didn’t know then how much this little brat would wreck his routine, his rules, his peace of mind.

But he’d already decided.

She was his now.

...To be continued......

The penthouse door clicked open with a soft hiss.

Minimalist. Cold. Luxurious. The apartment was painted in moonlight and shadows, all marble floors and smoked-glass walls overlooking the city's skyline. It smelled like cedarwood and gunpowder. Like him.

Rei walked in, Faye limp in his arms.

His driver had already vanished, the automatic doors sealing shut behind them like a vault. He didn’t need orders. No one dared linger in Rei’s personal space.

He carried her effortlessly across the living room—past the steel coffee table, past the untouched whiskey decanter, past the wall-mounted weapons hidden behind abstract art. Straight to the bedroom.

The room was massive, and dark.

Black sheets. Black walls. Velvet curtains drawn. One tall window cracked open just enough to let the night breathe.

He laid her down on the bed carefully.

For a moment, he just stood there, staring.

The chaos was gone. The streetlights had faded. It was just her now—this broken doll dumped into his world like a glitch in the system. Her thigh was scraped. Her lipstick smeared. Her chest rose and fell in erratic rhythm.

A mess.

And yet…

An angel.

She whimpered, rolling slightly onto her side, clutching the pillow.

Rei sat beside her, removing his gloves with slow precision. He tossed them onto the nightstand, his silver rings glinting in the dim light. Then, quietly, he reached for the silver tray beside the bed—kept there for bullet wounds, broken ribs, and now, apparently… her.

Cotton. Disinfectant. A damp cloth.

She flinched as the cold touched her skin.

He said nothing. Just cleaned her wounds one by one, taking his time. As if she might disappear if he looked away. As if she weren’t real.

When he was done, he peeled off her remaining shoe and dropped it to the floor with a soft thunk. Her eyes twitched but didn’t open. Her lips parted just enough to mumble something—

"...Ryu..."

Rei’s expression darkened.

He stood and walked to the wall, pressing a silent button. A soft light came on over the bed, illuminating her figure in a pale halo. He walked back to her, undoing his coat, tossing it aside, then crouched beside her once more.

She was muttering nonsense now. Barely lucid. The drugs still lingered.

"...pushed me... bastard... I kicked him..."

He raised a brow. So she fought back.

That made his lip twitch in something like approval.

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, then turned, walking toward his closet. He came back a minute later with a fresh towel and a crisp white shirt—his shirt.

She stirred as he lifted her slightly.

“Hnnh…”

“Relax,” he murmured. “It’s over.”

Her eyes fluttered half open. Her vision was glassy, but she didn’t pull away. Not even when he stripped the torn dress off her, not even when her bare skin touched his silk sheets.

She let him wrap her in his shirt.

And as he tucked the blanket over her…

“…thank you,” she whispered.

His breath hitched. Just for a second.

He couldn't help but admire her then quickly shook his head. grabbed a blanket and draped it over her

He sat down on the bed next to her, unable to tear his eyes away from her. He noticed the few jewelry pieces she had on, including a necklace with a small diamond pendant and a couple of rings. He couldn't help but wonder what her story was, and how such a pretty innocent looking girl ended up drunk and passed out on the side of the road.

leaning back he watched her sleep. Her breathing was slow and steady, her chest lightly rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. He found himself studying her face, tracing the line of her jaw and admiring her features. He had to admit, she was absolutely a walking black beauty.

He felt his own body react to her presence, and he scolded himself again. "what was he thinking??" . She was drunk and he was supposed to be on his guard, he knew nothing about her, not to be ogling her sleeping form.

He stood up sitting on a chair away from her back down watching her sleep.

 He noticed a small strand of hair that had fallen across her forehead and leaned over reached out to brush it away. His fingers lightly traced her skin as he did so, and he couldn't help but note how soft it felt.

He leaned in even further, the distance between them shrinking. His eyes flickered to her lips again, and he couldn't resist any longer. His mouth found hers in a gentle, feather soft kiss. He brushed his lips against hers, feeling the plush softness. It would be so easy to take it further, he thought...

....

...To be continued......

^^^Pt.1^^^

He leaned in and kissed her. Again—feather-light, testing, teasing.

“Mnn…”

A sleepy moan slipped past her lips, her breath catching.

His hand cupped her neck as he deepened the kiss, tongue brushing hers, hungry. Her lips were so warm—too soft for a girl for a stray. She shifted in his hold, and he froze.

She was kissing him back.

Even in a daze.

Surprised, he broke the kiss just as she collapsed into his chest.

“You're full of surprises, aren't you?” he muttered, catching her easily. One hand tangled in her braid, the other holding her thighs as she clung to him with breathless desperation.

“You really want me like this?” he whispered against her ear. “Even when you’re barely conscious?”

She whimpered, hips pressing forward, eyes half-lidded and hazy.

He smirked. His ego burned with lust.

“You don’t even know who I am… Still moaning for someone named Ryu.”

She murmured again, “Ryu…”

“No, sweetheart,” he growled, gripping her thighs, sliding her dress up. “It’s me. And I’m going to ruin you.”

With one swift pull, her panties were off and her dress was bunched around her waist. He laid her across the bed, legs parted, her body helplessly exposed.

He knelt between her thighs, tongue flicking against her clit—hot, wet, precise.

“Mmm… fuck, you taste like sin,” he groaned.

She gasped, back arching, fingers grabbing at his hair as her moans filled the room.

“That’s it,” he murmured against her, licking harder, slower. “So wet already. You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Her hips trembled.

He sucked her clit, teeth grazing gently, tongue working her in perfect rhythm. Her thighs trembled under his grip, and then—

“Ahh—!”

She broke with a shudder, a desperate moan tearing from her throat.

He pulled back, face slick, eyes dark.

“My, my… such a messy little thing.”

He licked her release from his lips, grinning as she lay there—ruined, dazed, his.

He pulled back, breath heavy. Her dress was clinging to her sweaty skin, her chest rising and falling in soft pants, He pulled it up and tossed it across the room. her bra barely containing the bounce of her breasts.

"Look at you," he murmured, hands roaming over her body . "So fucking needy."

He stepped back and undid his belt, watching her dazed eyes flutter.

“Damn, sweetheart… you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

She weakly clutched at his shirt as he tugged his pants and boxers down. His cock sprung free, hard, thick, already leaking for her.

“You see this?” he growled, lining himself up between her spread thighs. “This is what you do to me.”

Faye barely blinked, her mind still cloudy, body trembling with heat.

He grabbed her hips, the head of his cock pressing against her soaked folds.

“I can’t wait anymore.”

He eased inside—slow, thick, stretching her inch by inch.

“F-fuck…” he hissed, struggling not to slam into her. “So fucking tight.”

Her nails dug into his shoulders, her breath coming in soft whimpers, her body clenching around him like a trap.

“ngh... you'll snap...Relax, sweetheart…” he whispered, cupping her cheek, “I’ll take care of you.”

With a practiced flick, he unclasped her bra and slid it off, freeing her swollen breasts. He groaned at the sight, lowering his head to brush a kiss against her collarbone, lips trailing down kissing her skin.

He began to move—slow strokes that dragged every inch of his cock inside her heat. Her mouth fell open.

“Aaah…!”

Her moan sent a shiver through him. He picked up the pace.

“You like that, huh?”

His hand wrapped gently around her throat—not tight, just enough to feel her pulse jump beneath his touch.

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart,” he whispered, driving into her deeper now. “You’re mine tonight.”

Her eyes fluttered. Drool glistened at the corner of her lips, her body arching beneath him. He angled his hips and—

“aah!” she gasped, thighs trembling violently.

“There it is,” he grinned. “That sweet little spot. I'm gonna make you cum, sweetheart…”

⚠️ for the next chapter.

...To be continued.......