Chapter 2 — The Apartment: Wrapped in Silk and Sin

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......

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