SHADOWS OF DECEIT

Chapter 4

Samuel sped through the desolate roads, his heart racing in sync with the blur of his car. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles white with tension. In his other hand, he clutched his phone, futilely trying to reach someone on the other end. Every fibre of his being strained to hold it together, resisting the urge to explode, but his mind screamed with every beat.

The car veered sharply as he drifted into an alley between two towering buildings, tires screeching against the pavement. He brought the vehicle to a halt, locked it, and stepped out, crossing the street with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, too rigid to move naturally.

As he scanned the area, his eyes locked onto a man standing nearby, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips, watching him. Samuel approached, pulling his phone from his pocket and displaying the call log. The man stared for a moment, then wordlessly turned and began walking. Samuel fell in step behind him, following in silence.

They made their way to an old, decrepit garage, its structure long past its prime. The rusted doors and peeling paint made it clear this place had been abandoned, forgotten. The man led him to the entrance but paused at the threshold, leaving Samuel to confront whatever lay beyond.

Samuel stood there for a moment, the weight of the past pressing down on him. He took a deep breath and stepped inside.

He had once vowed never to return to this place—the hellhole he thought he'd escaped for good. Yet here he was, fate pulling him back into the same grim game he'd thought he'd left behind.

He stepped into the room, a cold shiver running through him as he took in the familiar setting. Not much had changed. The air was thick with the same oppressive weight, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the walls.

It had been years, but everything looked eerily untouched, as if time itself had frozen in this place.

He stood there in the dim hall, suddenly jolting as he felt a sharp slap on his ass. Whirling around, he was met with the sight of the very person he wished would meet the messiest end imaginable.

"Well, look at you, Samuel. Seems like your ass has been getting what you need," Kyofu chuckled, a crooked smile spreading across his face. His hair was longer, exactly as Samuel had dreaded in his nightmares.

"Already moved on to the boy, huh?" a voice drawled, drawing the attention of the other two.

"Well, he was a good one, Kuro. I've missed this ass," Kyofu replied, continuing to fondle with the younger's cheeks below his waist. Inside, Samuel was in turmoil, desperately trying to maintain a blank, nonchalant expression. He knew all too well what would happen if he dared to make a scene.

"Just look at him—still all dolled up," Kuro remarked, taking in Samuel's appearance with a scrutinizing gaze.

Samuel let his head hang low, feeling the weight of their scrutiny and the familiar sense of dread creeping back in.

"Now, let's get back to business, Samuel. How far have you progressed in tracking down the one and only precious gem of the Shadows?"

"I've been working on it, Sir, but his movements seem highly variable—nothing consistent. It's proving difficult to track him down," Samuel replied, his voice strained. He flinched as Kuro's hand clamped down on his cheeks, squeezing them while his eyes bored into Samuel's with menacing intensity.

"You'd have better luck if you weren't distracted by that new foreign boy of yours," Kuro sneered. "Not gonna lie, he's pretty enough—perhaps a bit older than I prefer, but nothing I can't handle." His grip tightened further, and Samuel whimpered, his feet barely able to touch the ground.