It started with a stare.
Mr. Charlie hadn't said a word during breakfast, but his eyes had been tracking Jack like a hawk—quiet, calculating, and cold. The kind of look he gave enemies across the table right before pulling the trigger. His silence was heavier than words. His fork clinked against the plate like distant thunder.
Jack noticed.
So did Rin.
There was no open confrontation. Just coffee poured a little too slowly. Just toast left untouched. Just Charlie's eyes watching every flicker of expression on his son's face, like he was trying to decipher a language Jack didn't mean to speak.
Later that afternoon, when the sky had dulled and the air had turned to static, Charlie summoned Rin into his private study.
No smile. No warmth. Just a clipped, "Come in," and the distinct sound of the lock clicking into place behind them.
The room smelled of cigars, old books, and bloodless power.
Charlie poured himself a drink without offering one. "You've been with him a long time," he said, his voice calm, too calm. "Seen him at his best. And at his most foolish."
Rin stood still. Not a twitch, not a breath out of place. "Yes, sir."
Charlie didn't look up. His hands swirled the glass like the answer to everything was hiding in the ice. "Something's changed."
Rin said nothing.
Charlie turned, finally meeting his eyes. "It started after the warehouse incident. Jay took a bullet for him. And since then, Jack's been… different. Distracted. Defiant."
His voice didn't rise. It didn't need to. "I've seen the glances. The hesitation. The silence."
Rin's shoulders remained straight, but his mind was racing. This wasn't a suspicion anymore. It was something sharper. Something loaded.
Charlie stepped forward, lowering his voice the way one does before a blade slides in. "Watch them. Jay and Jack. Every movement. Every conversation. I want to know what they say when they think no one's listening."
Rin clenched his fists behind his back. "And if I see something?"
Charlie's gaze hardened, turning him to stone. "Tell me. Even if it hurts him."
There was no choice in his tone.
Only command.
Rin nodded once.
And then he turned, opened the door, and walked out with something much heavier than orders pressing down on his chest.
Across the city, Vavaporn was already waiting in the shadows of his study.
The curtains were drawn. The light dimmed. A single decanter on the table, untouched.
Jeff stepped inside and bowed slightly. "You asked for me, sir."
Vavaporn didn't look up. "You've served my son well," he said flatly, as though the words were borrowed, not earned.
Jeff straightened. "He trusts me."
Vavaporn's eyes flicked to him, sharp. "Then use that trust."
Jeff's chest became heavy, very heavy, like a stone had been placed on it. His instincts screamed.
"Sir?"
Vavaporn finally met his eyes. "I've been watching him. He's… softer. Lighter. Like he's carrying a secret he thinks I can't see."
He moved slowly, deliberately, placing a blank dossier on the table between them. It was empty, but it felt like it weighed ten tons. It was an accusation without evidence. Yet.
"Jay has always obeyed," Vavaporn said. "But lately…, he hesitates."
He tapped the folder once. "Watch him. Closely. See who he calls. Who he looks at too long. If he disappears, follow him. If he lies, tell me."
Jeff's mouth felt like it was filled with sand. "And if he catches me?"
Vavaporn smiled coldly, something ancient and cruel in it. "Then he's already lost."
That evening, the sky burned orange as the sun dipped below the hills. Neon signs flickered awake. Engines hummed in the streets. Somewhere between the glow of nightlife and the hush of hidden agendas, Jay and Jack slipped into an old rooftop bar that overlooked the city.
It was a forgotten place, with cracked tiles, rusted railings, and a single working fan buzzing like a lazy insect. But it was theirs. A secret carved into the skyline.
They thought it was private.
Safe.
Untouched.
But they weren't alone.
Jeff leaned against the stairwell wall below, pretending to scroll through his messages. His pulse was hammering like war drums. He didn't want to be here. Not like this. Not watching them.
A few steps away, Rin stood still, his back to a dusty pillar, eyes flicking between the view and Jack's silhouette. He wasn't hiding either. Not well. Maybe he didn't want to.
Jay spotted Jeff first. His brows furrowed, his heart sinking with something cold and sharp.
Jack turned at the shift in Jay's expression and instantly saw Rin pretending to scroll, thumbs unmoving.
Jay walked toward Jeff, steps careful but firm. "What are you doing here?"
Jeff looked at him.
Said nothing.
For a long moment, the silence between them screamed.
Then, finally, "Vavaporn sent me."
Jack's head snapped toward him. "To do what?"
Jeff's eyes didn't flinch. "Watch you. Both of you."
Jay stiffened, jaw tightening. "Seriously?"
Jeff nodded once. Regret bloomed in his eyes. "He thinks you're slipping."
Jack turned toward Rin now, his voice a notch deeper. "And you?"
Rin sighed. "Charlie asked the same of me."
There was a silence, not awkward, but painful. The kind of silence that stretches between people who were once sure of each other.
Jay ran a hand through his hair, frustration flickering. "They've known. Or at least suspected."
"They don't have proof," Jeff said quickly. "Not yet."
Jack's voice was tight. "But they're looking for it."
Rin lowered his phone slowly, as if ashamed of even holding it. "They asked us to betray you."
Jay's eyes locked onto Jeff's. "Are you going to?"
Jeff didn't blink. "No."
Rin added without pause, "Never."
Jack exhaled. It was soft but full of something, something that sounded like relief.
Jay gave a slow nod. "Then we have to be careful. Every move from now on, they'll be watching. Through your eyes."
Jack looked between Rin and Jeff. His voice was steady. "You're with us?"
Rin crossed his arms. "I've always been with you."
Jeff smirked, just a little. "I'm not the one who told the fathers you went to the beach."
Jay's lips curved. "You noticed that?"
"Of course I did," Jeff said, almost fondly. "I'm your watchdog, remember?"
Jack stepped closer, reached out, and took Jay's hand in his. His grip was firm. Protective.
"Then we watch back," he said.
That night, the city lights felt different.
They didn't sparkle. They pierced.
Every passing car sounded like a warning. Every whisper of wind carried a thousand unspoken fears.
The walls felt thinner.
The silence felt louder.
And love?
Love became a weapon.
One, they had to wield carefully… or bleed for it.
But as they stood on that rooftop, Jay's hand in Jack's, Rin's stance shifting subtly in front of Jack, and Jeff slightly angled toward Jay like a human shield, there was something more than fear in the air.
There was loyalty. A type that was unspoken and yet unshakable.
Love didn't just make them soft.
It made them dangerous.
Because now?
They had something to lose.
And they would burn the world before they let anyone take it from them.