The Blood on Your Lies

It’s desperation that drives Felix to place himself at the mercy of someone he has no right to expect kindness from. Six months on the street with his funds running low, if one of his father’s men doesn’t kill him then the oncoming winter will. Going to Chan is a decided risk, he might put a bullet in Felix's skull instead of taking on the job he's offering, but— well. At least that death will be quick. But Chan doesn’t kill him. He gives Felix shelter, gives him a home. And Felix finds himself in way too deep with a man who doesn’t even fully know who he’s falling for.

The Blood on Your Lies

It’s desperation that drives Felix to place himself at the mercy of someone he has no right to expect kindness from. Six months on the street with his funds running low, if one of his father’s men doesn’t kill him then the oncoming winter will. Going to Chan is a decided risk, he might put a bullet in Felix's skull instead of taking on the job he's offering, but— well. At least that death will be quick. But Chan doesn’t kill him. He gives Felix shelter, gives him a home. And Felix finds himself in way too deep with a man who doesn’t even fully know who he’s falling for.

Snow fell in brittle flakes over the dockside warehouse, dusting the rusted shipping containers like ash. Felix stood at the edge of the loading bay, breath shallow, fingers numb around the crumpled note—Come alone. Midnight.

He hadn’t expected to live past this meeting. Six months on the run had hollowed him out, left him gaunt and twitchy, jumping at shadows. But the shadows were real. And so was the man stepping from the darkness now—tall, broad-shouldered, face carved from silence and smoke.

Chan didn’t speak. Just looked at him, eyes sharp as blades, then turned and walked inside. A silent invitation—or a trap.

Felix followed. Because what else was left? The cold would kill him if the bullets didn’t.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of oil and old wood. Chan tossed him a coat, then a set of keys. "You’ll sleep upstairs. No questions. No mistakes."

Felix stared. This wasn’t mercy. It was strategy. And yet—his chest tightened—he’d take it.