In a dark cell, alone and seated on the cold concrete floor, was Xylander Wolfe himself. His cellmate—nothing but a thief and hardened criminal—had made it a daily duty to mock him, tornt him, and tear whatever remained of his dignity apart.
He was dressed in rags, eyes sagging with stress and the fear of sleeping with a murderer so close by. The intention of the police station was unclear—why place a dangerous criminal beside him? And with the fear that he might not survive the night, he forced his eyes to stay open.
Days without sleep had made him deteriorate even further. He looked like sothing that crawled out of a horror movie. His handso features had vanished, replaced by a skeletal, ghostlike appearance. But amidst all this, he still prayed he would reunite with Daniel—at least see him and his baby one last ti before he died. But considering the way his body was being treated, he doubted he would survive long enough.
At the corner of the cell, the criminal kept glaring at Xylander with vicious contempt. Not a minute passed without him reminding the billionaire that his riches were gone.
"Having so hope, broke billionaire?" he sneered, eyeing him with pure hatred.
Xylander, who hadn’t eaten in two days, was breathing heavily and could barely sit upright. Wasting his energy arguing with this raging man was a luxury he couldn’t afford.
"Don’t you dare ignore . I am Alfredo—well-known in the dark street. I can tell my n to infiltrate this police station, and not only will you be killed, I’ll be released... walking out of here a free man." Alfredo burst into a horrible laugh, sothing between an incantation and a cursed spell.
His circular face, covered in tattoos and twisted into an evil smirk, made him look even more formidable.
Xylander groaned, trying his best to move one foot, but failed. The base of his legs ached horribly from staying in the sa position too long.
"Still snubbing , your highness?"
Alfredo slapped him so hard that Xylander’s skull hit the wall behind him. The poor man collapsed instantly, losing consciousness.
Alfredo didn’t panic. He simply smacked his lips in annoyance.
"A rapist, abuser, and fraud... oh billionaire, you will die here." His laughter echoed through the cold cell, almost making him fall over.
It was entertaining. Sweet, even. But minutes passed, and the body beside him didn’t move. Curiosity crept in.
"Hey, you—stand your dry ass up this instant."
Silence answered him.
Annoyed, Alfredo lifted his foot to kick the unconscious man—but he froze the mont a sharp, polished shoe landed before him.
Draven had arrived.
His shoe glimred even in the dim light as he took a single intimidating step forward.
"What is this? What nonsense is going on? Did he just dare lay his filthy, disgusting hand on my friend—and Daniel’s husband?" Draven questioned the trembling police officer beside him.
"S-Sir... maybe it was an accident—" the officer stamred.
Draven shook his head slowly, disappointed.
"It’s clear you don’t need this job anymore. Your stupidity is shining too brightly. But well, let’s make that wish co true. Let’s go et the higher authorities behind this prison."
The police officer turned pale. He shot a terrified glare at Alfredo, who suddenly realized he’d made a grave mistake.
"And you—" Draven pointed at Alfredo, his voice slicing the air. "For your own safety, I hope he isn’t injured. Otherwise, this will be the last ti you ever breathe."
Alfredo blinked rapidly. The young man before him oozed wealth and power—dangerous power. If a corrupt officer was trembling like a leaf before him, then he was dood.
"I did nothing to him! He just fainted from hunger—it’s the cops’ fault he’s being starved. Oh wait—are you a faggot too?" Alfredo muttered boldly.
Draven almost laughed at the audacity, but he ignored it. He signaled for the officers to retrieve Xylander imdiately. More cops rushed in and carried his limp body out of the hellhole.
He wasn’t breathing well—more like a lifeless log. Draven’s soul nearly left his body.
Was he late?
Had he failed Xylander... and Daniel?
How could he face either of them?
He snapped out of it and pointed to his car. "Take him imdiately. To the hospital. From today onward, his case is officially settled."
"What about the family of the deceased? And the public—they’ll question his sudden release," one officer stuttered.
Draven shrugged.
"Cook up sothing. Lie, twist the truth, invent a miracle—I don’t care. But if you don’t, the money promised will vanish. Not even a di. Am I understood?"
All the officers nodded like lizards.
With one last murderous glare, Draven faced Alfredo again.
"The prisoner—roommate—whatever he is, take him out, give him two hundred strokes of the cane, and dispose of him. I’ll pay for your trouble."
He stord out as the police dragged Xylander’s stiff body toward the exit.
And on the way, they collided with Michael.
Michael was shoved aside and hit a sharp piece of iron, grazing his mouth. Blood dripped from the corner of his lips. Draven didn’t even glance at him—Xylander’s worsening condition consud all his attention.
Michael watched everything—the stretcher, the officers, Xylander being carried out—everything.
His chance... it was slipping away. Even Daniel’s ssage hadn’t been delivered. His entire journey here felt useless.
Dizziness washed over him as his head spun, but desperation forced him to remain standing. Just as Draven reached the last door, Michael scread:
"Daniel wants to talk to you! It’s urgent—very important! If I don’t do this, you might lose him forever!"
Draven paused—sothing cracked inside him.
"Just listen to this ti. I don’t have much ti left." Michael pleaded, voice trembling.
But before Draven could reply, the officers shouted:
"Let’s go! He’s bleeding inside his skull. This is fatal for soone like him!"
Draven froze—torn between following the dying Xylander and listening to sothing that might lead him to Daniel.
"Co with to the hospital—we can talk there," he finally said, rushing out.
Michael staggered after him, blood now dripping from his nose. His hidden sickness had been triggered—and he didn’t know if he could hide it much longer.
"Daniel... after today, you owe a nice treat," he muttered weakly, clutching his chest.
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