***MATURE CONTENT***
Jason Villarosa is a bright rookie detective studying the methods of a serial killer who no one can seem to catch.
Ken Kim is a handsome, eloquent enigma who seems oddly drawn to Jason.
In no time at all Jason finds himself fall...
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Jason's office was located in the Old Town section of the city, a historic district with cobblestone streets and charming, centuries-old buildings. His small investigator's office was tucked away on the second floor of a quaint, red-bricked building that had seen better days. The wooden sign outside the office door, adorned with peeling paint, read "Villarosa Investigations."
That morning, Jason hoped to make a breakthrough. The serial killer case haunted his every waking moment. His dim office was bathed in the soft glow of a desk lamp, casting long shadows that danced across the room. Stacks of case files and photos covered his desk.
As he meticulously examined the evidence, he had no idea that danger was lurking just outside his office door. Unbeknownst to him, someone had managed to gain access to the building, getting a feel for its interior.
With a sudden, chilling sound, the office door creaked open, and Jason instinctively reached for his concealed firearm. Before he could react, a masked figure lunged at him, knocking the gun from his grasp and sending it clattering to the floor.
In a swift, disorienting blur, Jason found himself pinned to the floor, his wrists expertly bound together with zip-ties that dug into his flesh. His struggles were in vain as the intruder effortlessly overpowered him, expertly securing his ankles to his office chair, rendering him utterly immobilized.
With a cruel efficiency, the intruder produced a bandana and tightly gagged Jason, muffling any cries for help. The fabric pressed against his lips, the knot cinched at the back of his head, leaving him silenced and vulnerable.
The intruder stepped back, admiring their handiwork. Jason, disheveled and bound, could only glare defiantly at his captor, his eyes blazing with a determination to escape this perilous situation.
The office, once a haven for uncovering the truth, had become a prison. The case files on his desk now felt like a cruel mockery of his inability to protect himself. His heart raced as he wondered what the killer had in store for him.
A harsh reality set in. As he sat there, bound and gagged, his muscular frame emphasized by the leather jacket and perfectly fitting blue jeans, the harsh reality struck him like a blow: he, the detective accustomed to being in control, was now the one who needed saving.
