Diane thought, but then a knock came at the door, followed by a voice. "Boss!"
He paused abruptly. She finally stood up, while Llewllellyn bent slightly, running a hand through his hair. The interruption had clearly cut short something important. Diane composed herself and looked at him, her heart still pounding. Strangely, she didn't want it to stop, yet she was too shy to acknowledge the tingles he stirred inside her.
She noticed him watching her, an expression on his face she couldn't fathom. He bent casually, one hand resting on his knee, his robe gone. She looked away shyly.
"Let's go," he said, straightening as he walked toward her.
She felt his approach and instinctively shrank back, stepping away with timid, measured steps until her back brushed the door.
"Go where?" she asked, her voice betraying her nerves.
He moved closer, his steps elegant and unhurried. "Your home," he replied, placing his hand near her head, as though pinning her gently against the door.
Silence stretched between them.
Then..."Boss, are you okay?" Jecey called from behind the door.
The moment broke. Diane seized the chance and opened it. Instantly, regret washed over her. Her eyes trembled with embarrassment as she found herself face-to-face with several men. Rick and Jecey she recognized, but the rest were strangers, more like Gangsters.
Stepping out of the room belonging to their leader, Llewllellyn, she wished the ground would open and swallow her whole.
Then they saw Llewllellyn shirtless.
"Boss, were you seducing her?" Jecey shouted in disbelief.
The gangsters gasped in unison, their eyes darting between Llewllellyn and Diane—everyone except Rick.
Diane froze, unsure of what to do. Llewllellyn noticed the fear flicker across her face.
"Are you all testing me?!" Llewllellyn roared.
The gangsters immediately bowed in apology. "We are terribly sorry, Boss!" they shouted at the top of their voices, everyone except Rick.
Instead, Rick stepped closer to Llewllellyn and spoke to him in a low voice about a rival gang. Diane watched Llewllellyn's expression change in an instant, his calm hardening into something dangerous.
"Jecey, take Diane home," Llewllellyn ordered.
Jecey didn't argue.
Before Diane could leave, Llewllellyn instructed his men to bring his jacket. He draped it around her shoulders himself, his gaze lingering on her as he adjusted it.
The gang tried and failed to act normal while he did so.
"There are crazy people out there," he said softly. And she felt protected as he did so.
Jecey escorted her away, accompanied by a few of the gang members.
"Rick, I seriously don't want to react to Truce's actions," Llewellyn, a spark of sincere sadness slipping into his voice.
For a brief moment, the past clawed its way back.
He remembered Truce laughing beside him,his bloodied knuckles clinking glasses in a dim room. Four shadows at one table, Truce, Rick, Jecey, and himself swearing loyalty over cheap drinks and reckless dreams. No crowns. No betrayal. Just brothers.
The memory shattered.
Truce, Llewellyn Rick, and Jecey had once been the strongest heads of the gang and more than that, they had been brothers. But when sincerity fades, friendship turns into rivalry.
Truce betrayed the gang by igniting an internal war among its members. He began showing a different fang, openly opposing Llewellellyn's orders at a critical time when they were already facing a cold, stone-hearted rival gang. Confusion spread. Loyalties shattered. The gang turned against itself.
Eventually, nearly half of the members abandoned Llewellyn, convincing themselves they were escaping his terror and leadership—or so they believed.
Truce left too, discarding his friendship as easily as passed news. He gathered those who had broken away and formed his own gang: the Bitting Teeths—leaving behind the Loyal Dogs, Llewellyn's remaining men.
"I know Truce was our friend," Rick said quietly, "but he's beyond mercy now."
He paused, then added grimly, "He orchestrated chaos in the local market and placed bets on criminals targeting innocent women."
Llewellellyn's fists clenched as Rick spoke. His jaw tightened, fury burning beneath his controlled silence.
"A meeting would be preferable at this moment," Llewellyn said finally, speaking to Rick from the back seat as one of their men drove.
His eyes darkened.
"Then," he added coldly, "I go after Brian."
****
"Lady Boss, are you comfortable?" one of Llewellyn's men asked with concern as they walked toward the car.
The remaining members murmured and smiled, clearly waiting for a sweet response.
Diane furrowed her brows. "Lady Boss? Who is he calling Lady Boss?" she wondered.
"You already have what you wanted...at least answer!" a more commanding voice cut in, followed by a tired sigh. Diane didn't need to turn. She knew exactly who it was.
Jecey.
"What I wanted?" she clenched her jaw, irritation flaring, but she held her tongue.
"I'm no one's boss," she said instead, keeping her tone kind, careful not to provoke Jecey's temper.
"Apparently you are," another man chimed in cheerfully. "Since Boss cherishes you so much, you might be giving us orders one day."
The rest erupted in excited murmurs. "Wow!"
Diane felt something spark inside her small but, like a flame being lit, just from the way they spoke of her as someone belonging to Llewellyn.
"What do you mean by giving orders?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"Like ordering our butts around," Jecey replied flatly—a warning laced beneath the words.
Then someone chuckled. "I heard you slapped our boss at his institute?"
The sudden question made her stiffen. She was surrounded by gangsters, men who could crush her without effort and she felt painfully aware of how different she was among them.
"They didn't mention that he had disrespected me first." she thought bitterly.
"That was terrifying, ma'am," another teased.
"I didn't even know he was your leader," Diane said, forcing a smile through the tension.
"No, ma'am...don't smile," the man laughed. "If it weren't you, our boss would've skinned you alive."
Laughter followed.
"Don't you know anything about this world?" someone asked.
"Not really," Diane replied honestly. "I don't stay in the state often, so I was lost when I met him."
"Oh—that boss's company thing…" another nodded in understanding.
Then someone muttered, "Yeah… boss really likes this one."
Diane felt her cheeks warm instantly, blushing under the lights near the parked car.
They got in. Some of the men entered another vehicle and followed behind.
As the car pulled away, Diane found herself quietly surprised. Llewellellyn's men were friendly and chatty, even. Nothing like the cruel image she had built in her mind.
Maybe, she thought, they aren't as wicked as I believed.
They arrived at Diane's house, and she was dropped off quietly.
"Thank you," Diane said quickly before Jecey could turn her lack of appreciation for free transportation into a war.
Jecey nodded calmly, but his demeanor shifted. Diane followed his gaze and saw Clara standing outside, staring back at him.
Jecey stepped out of the car, slammed the door shut, and pointed sharply in Clara's direction. Clara immediately stepped back, fear flashing across her face.
Diane hurried over and took Clara's hand.
"Our house is full of gangsters, Diane," Clara whispered anxiously.
Jecey only shook his head, his lips moving as if reciting a silent rhyme. Then he got back into the car and drove off, the other gangsters following closely behind.
"What a pathetic jerk," Clara scoffed as the cars disappeared. "I should've punched him." She threw a fist into the air for emphasis.
They went inside. Diane changed her clothes, and soon they were heading out to the dry cleaners.
On the way, Diane told Clara everything that had happened at the party, how she was attacked, how she woke up in Llewellellyn's room. She carefully left out the part about the tingling feeling she couldn't explain.
Clara stopped walking.
Slowly.
"Wait," she said. "You woke up… in his room?"
"Yes," Diane sighed. "Clara, don't start."
Clara's eyes lit up. "Oh, I'm starting."
She grabbed Diane's arm. "So let me get this straight. You were drugged, rescued by a dangerously handsome gangster, wrapped in his jacket, and escorted home like royalty?"
"That is not what happened," Diane snapped, blushing hard.
Clara gasped dramatically. "Oh my God. You survived the night with him and lived to tell the tale."
"I didn't do anything," Diane insisted.
Clara smirked. "Then why," she asked slowly, "are we dry-cleaning his jacket?"
Diane opened her mouth. Closed it.
Clara leaned in. "And don't lie. You liked it."
"I did not!" Diane said too fast.
Clara laughed. "Diane. Please. If I were in his room, I would've passed out before I woke up."
Diane shoved her lightly. "You're impossible."
"And you," Clara replied sweetly, "are officially in trouble."
Diane was about to argue when her phone rang.
She froze.
The name on the screen made her stomach flip.
Llewellyn.
Her cheeks warmed, and she couldn't stop glancing at the screen. It's him.