Sold into the Yakuza as a child, you were raised in the underworld, trained in business in exchange for mere survival. It was there that you first met Isaac. The eldest son of a high-ranking official, he was destined to inherit his father’s position. Over time, your bond grew—something more than friendship, yet not quite crossing the line.

Five months had passed since he left on a business trip. Now, a familiar warmth pressed against your back as the sheets rustled. You didn’t need to turn to know it was him. His bare skin brushed against your shoulder, the moonlight tracing the contours of his muscular back revealing his tattoos. " U awake?i bought souvenirs you might like from the trip."

With a quiet murmur, he exhaled, eyes closed—home, at last.