Gun’s body was betraying him, his resolve crumbling under the pressure of King’s lips, the familiar taste igniting long-buried desires. He was losing himself, drowning in the passion that once consumed him, but the hardness pressing against his stomach jolted him back to reality.

  His eyes snapped open, and he stared up at King, his heart twisting painfully. For a fleeting moment, it felt like old times, like he was back in the arms of the man he used to love, the man who once made him truly happy. But then the memories rushed back—King’s lies, his maniputions, his cruel abandonment.

  Gun’s chest tightened. He thought of Remmington, who also lied to him, and how he had found it in himself to forgive him. But did King deserve the same mercy?

  This man who looked both desperate and dangerously unhinged?

  This man who could twist reality and emotions to his will, who had controlled him for so long?

  His fingers slid into King’s hair gently, before his grip tightened cruelly. He yanked King’s head back, forcing their eyes to meet. A fsh of pain and desire flickered in King’s eyes, the lust unmistakable even as his lips parted with a sharp intake of breath.

  Gun’s voice was cold, cutting through the heat between them. “Who was that on the phone with you? Have you fallen in love with someone else?”

  King’s eyes softened, his features rexing as a weary smile spread across his lips. “Unlike you, Gun, I never found the reason to move on from you.”

  The words stung more than Gun cared to admit. His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing with anger and bitterness. “Then what about Sandie? You lied to me about her. You liked her enough to have kids with her and then abandoned her when you met me. Years ter, you abandoned me too.”

  A shadow passed over King’s face, his shoulders stiffening. His hands trembled as they braced against the seat on either side of Gun, his gaze searching Gun’s face for forgiveness he knew he didn’t deserve. “Gun… don’t do this. Do you have to rip us apart like this?” His voice wavered, raw and vulnerable. “I’ve always loved you, even after I couldn’t accept things between us. Even when I was too much of a coward to face you… I never stopped loving you.”

  Gun’s chest tightened, a pang of pain surging through him. He wanted to scream, to cry, to hit King for everything he had done. Yet, seeing the anguish in King’s eyes, hearing the desperation in his voice, made it impossible to look away.

  His grip loosened in King’s hair, his hand falling limply to his side. “You destroyed me, King… You shattered everything I was.” His voice cracked, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes. “How can you still say you love me?”

  King’s head lowered, his lips brushing against Gun’s forehead, lingering as if he could will away all the pain he caused. “Because I do. Even if you hate me… I will always love you.”

  A tear slipped down Gun’s cheek, and his chest shuddered with a silent sob. Love and hate tangled in his heart, suffocating him. He wanted to push King away, to run, to hide… but King’s warmth, his touch, his presence held him captive.

  Gun’s gaze was icy, his grip unrelenting as his fingers tangled harshly in King’s hair, forcing him to maintain eye contact. The softness that once resided in his eyes was long gone, repced by a coldness that sent a chill down King’s spine.

  “Who is he?” his voice was sharp, his tone unyielding. There was no hesitation, no vulnerability. He wasn’t the same man King had once known—he was harder, colder, a powerful tycoon who refused to be pyed with again.

  King looked down at him, the pain from Gun’s grip throbbing, but he didn’t fight back. He could feel the anger radiating off him, the bitterness that ran deep, and he accepted it. He deserved it. Yet, even as Gun stared up at him with such hatred, he couldn’t bring himself to resent him. No matter how cold Gun became, no matter how much he tried to shut him out, King would never stop loving him.

  Taking Gun’s free hand, he brought it to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of his palm. He held it there for a moment, his eyes locking with Gun’s, searching for any trace of the man who once looked at him with love. “You know him,” he began, his voice softening. “Remember when we first started dating? On one of our dates, there was a boy at the convenience store. He asked us to adopt him because he didn’t like his family.”

  Gun’s eyebrows knitted together, confusion flickering across his face. He opened his mouth to respond but hesitated, his mind racing to recall the memory. But nothing came to him. Shaking his head, he whispered, “I don’t remember.”

  King smiled softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with nostalgia. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice gentle as his thumb stroked Gun’s palm. “I’ll introduce you to him.”

  Gun’s heart skipped a beat, a strange sensation swirling in his chest. He hated how easily King’s touch could still affect him, how King’s words could momentarily shatter his resolve. He wanted to remain cold, detached, to push King away and never look back. Yet, as King’s gaze bore into his, filled with a longing that made his chest ache, Gun found himself unable to pull away.

  The memories they shared, the past they once lived, hung heavily between them. And for a moment, just a moment, Gun wondered if it was possible to rewrite their future.

  “Gun,” King whispered, his voice tender, eyes locked onto him. Time seemed to slow, the world outside the car fading away, leaving only the two of them in this fragile, vulnerable moment. He took in Gun’s face, memorising every detail—the sharpness of his jawline, the coldness in his eyes that once sparkled with love. King’s chest tightened. How long had he waited for this?

  To be close to him again, to touch him, to feel his presence... If only life wasn’t so cruel. If only they weren’t on opposite sides of the same twisted fate.

  “Do you think,” King began, his voice barely above a whisper, “that if I wasn’t a gangster... you’d love me like you did?”

  Gun blinked, his brows knitting together in confusion. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, his eyes darkened, his expression hardening. A scoff escaped him, cold and cutting. Without warning, Gun’s hands shot up, gripping his face roughly. His fingers dug into King’s skin, his nails pressing in just enough to sting.

  Gun’s gaze was fierce, his lips curling into a bitter sneer as he spat, “Never. I wanted you for your money.”

  The words were venomous, ced with resentment and disdain. They cut through King like a bde, but he didn’t flinch. His expression didn’t falter. A humourless chuckle slipped from his lips, low and hollow.

  “I knew it,” he murmured, his eyes flickering with a pain he tried to hide behind a weak smile. It was a lie, of course. He never believed it, not for a second. He knew Gun better than anyone. King knew Gun once loved him—fiercely, passionately. He knew Gun had given him his heart, and he’d shattered it beyond repair.

  But if this was the lie Gun needed to hold onto, to keep his walls up, he would let him have it. Even if it meant carrying the burden of being hated. Even if it meant pretending that their love was just a transaction.

  Because no matter how cold Gun’s words were, no matter how deep the hatred ran... he would never stop loving him.

  King’s hips moved slowly, deliberately, grinding against his hardness, his breath warm as he whispered, “You’ve gotten so rough, so cold... Why were you crying when I had you in bed before?”

  The words were a taunt, dripping with arrogance, but they barely had time to settle before Gun’s palm collided with King’s cheek. The sp was loud, echoing through the car, leaving a crimson imprint on his face. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved, both stunned by the force of it.

  Gun’s eyes were bzing, fury and pain swirling dangerously together. Before King could recover, Gun’s hand shot up, wrapping around his throat, fingers pressing just hard enough to make his breath hitch. Gun’s face was close, his voice low and deadly.

  “I don’t know what game you’re pying, but I want nothing to do with it. You wanted to be dead? Then stay dead. Don’t run back to me.” His grip tightened, his eyes narrowing. “We ended, so this ends. And if you don’t stop this bullshit...” Gun’s lips curled into a cruel smirk, his gaze piercing. “You won’t like me as an enemy.”

  For a moment, neither spoke. King’s eyes never left Gun’s, the tension between them sharp enough to cut. Then, without warning, King’s lips curved into a faint, almost amused smile.

  “Your car is small anyway,” he muttered, his tone ft, devoid of emotion. His eyes flicked to the door, and before Gun could respond, King was already moving. He reached for the handle, shoving the door open with force.

  Gun’s grip fell away, and King climbed out, his movements sharp and deliberate. He didn’t look back as he smmed the door, the sound reverberating through the silence. His shoulders were stiff, his steps purposeful as he walked away, leaving Gun alone in the car, heart pounding, breath uneven.

  Gun watched him go, his chest heaving as anger and frustration boiled within him. His fingers twitched, still tingling from the sp, from the feel of King’s throat beneath his palm. He gritted his teeth, fists clenching as King’s figure grew smaller in the distance.

  No matter how far King went, no matter how much Gun told himself it was over... he knew King would never truly leave him.