Chapter 209 Chapter 0208

Chapter 209 Chapter 0208
The knock on the door was firm. Measured.
Arthur already knew who it was before he even reached for the handle.
Masahiro.
And if Masahiro was here, that meant—
“Morning, sunshine,” Matthew greeted the moment the door swung open, leaning against the frame like he had all the time in the world. “You look like shit.”
Arthur huffed a dry laugh, stepping aside to let them in. “Nice to see you too.”
Masahiro entered without a word, his sharp eyes scanning the apartment like it was an active crime scene. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular—just observing, calculating, the way he always did.
Arthur shut the door behind them and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m fine, by the way. In case you were wondering.”
Masahiro turned to him, arms crossed. “You were kidnapped.”
Arthur shrugged. “Yeah, and now I’m not.”
Matthew plopped down onto the couch, stretching his arms behind his head. “Kid, if you were any more in denial, you’d be running for office.”
Arthur rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t argue.
Masahiro exhaled slowly, shifting his weight. “We came to check on you.”
Arthur nodded, glancing at his hands. The bruises on his wrists had already started fading, but he could still feel them. The ache. The memory of being there.
The memory of Cassidy pulling him out.
Arthur swallowed. “I—” He hesitated. Then, finally, “I want to see him.”
Silence.
Masahiro’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker—barely perceptible—in his eyes.
Matthew, on the other hand, let out a sharp laugh. “You what?”
Arthur shifted uncomfortably. “I just—” He licked his lips, searching for the right words. “I just need to talk to him.”
Matthew gave him a long, incredulous look before glancing at Masahiro. “You hearing this?”
Masahiro’s jaw tightened. “Arthur.”
Arthur met his gaze. “I need to see him.”
Masahiro didn’t look away. Didn’t blink. His silence felt heavier than words.
Arthur’s fingers curled into fists. “I know what he is.” His voice was quiet but steady. “I know. But I need to see him anyway.”
Matthew let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Kid, you really need to unpack whatever fucked-up thing you’ve got going on with that man.”
Arthur ignored him. His focus was on Masahiro, waiting, hoping.
Masahiro finally spoke.
“He’s in custody.”
Arthur exhaled. “I know.”
Masahiro studied him for a long moment, then turned toward Matthew, as if silently asking if he wanted to handle this mess.
Matthew smirked. “Oh, no, I’m just here for the front-row seat.”
Masahiro sighed, rubbing his temple. “Arthur, this isn’t—”
“I need to see him,” Arthur repeated, voice unwavering.
Masahiro exhaled through his nose. “You don’t even know what you’re asking.”
Arthur’s throat tightened. “Maybe not.”
Masahiro stared at him for another long, tense beat. Then, finally—
Masahiro sighed, already rubbing his temple like he regretted agreeing to this. Without another word, he turned.
Matthew, still smirking, clapped Arthur on the shoulder. “Alright, lover boy. Let’s go get your psychopath.”
Arthur rolled his eyes but followed them out the door, his pulse picking up with every step toward the car.
The ride to the station was quieter than Arthur expected.
Masahiro drove, his expression set in stone, his hands steady on the wheel.
Matthew, on the other hand, looked like he had a thousand things to say and no patience to say them. He shifted in the passenger seat, one leg bouncing slightly, a sure sign that he was holding back something.
Arthur sat in the back, his heart pounding steadily against his ribs, his fingers curling into his lap. He told himself this wasn’t a mistake.
He needed to see Cassidy.
Didn’t he?
Matthew let out an exaggerated sigh, finally breaking the silence. “I still can’t believe we’re doing this.”
Arthur glanced at him. “You didn’t have to come.”
Matthew scoffed. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He turned slightly in his seat, fixing Arthur with a knowing smirk. “You walking back into the lion’s den? The exact lion who just murdered six people for you? Oh yeah, I gotta see how this plays out.”
Arthur clenched his jaw, looking back out the window.
Masahiro didn’t react, but his fingers flexed slightly against the steering wheel.
The station loomed ahead, the familiar structure colder than usual under the dull, overcast sky. Masahiro pulled into the lot, cutting the engine with a smooth efficiency that matched everything about him.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then, Masahiro finally spoke. “Are you sure?”
Arthur inhaled deeply, gripping the door handle. “Yeah.”
Masahiro studied him for a moment but said nothing more.
Matthew, of course, had plenty to say.
“I give it five minutes before he’s got you questioning every life decision you’ve ever made.”
Arthur shot him a look. “Thanks for the support.”
Matthew grinned. “Anytime, kid.”
Arthur pushed open the door and stepped out.
The crisp air hit him first, but it did nothing to clear his head. His pulse was steady but quick, each step toward the station feeling heavier than the last.
Masahiro walked beside him, unreadable as always. Matthew trailed just behind, humming something off-key, like he wasn’t about to walk into a confrontation with one of the most dangerous men they knew.
Arthur exhaled sharply, shaking the tension from his shoulders as they stepped through the station doors.
Inside, the station was moving as usual—phones ringing, officers murmuring over reports, the smell of burnt coffee clinging to the air.
Arthur knew exactly where they were going.
Cassidy wasn’t in a regular holding cell.
No, they had him somewhere secure.
The deeper they went, the quieter it became.
Arthur’s chest tightened.
Masahiro led the way, his badge clearing the security doors, and the moment they stepped into the hallway leading to interrogation, Arthur felt it.
The weight.
The presence.
Even before he saw him, he felt Cassidy.
Masahiro stopped at the observation window first.
Arthur did too.
And there he was.
Cassidy sat in the interrogation room, relaxed in the chair like it was a goddamn throne.
Wrists cuffed to the table, but posture as confident as ever, his head tilted slightly as if listening to something nobody else could hear. His coat was gone, sleeves rolled up, the bruises from the officers who had arrested him barely noticeable against the way he carried himself—like he was still in control.
Like he always was.
Arthur swallowed hard.
Cassidy turned his head.
And looked right at him.
Arthur felt his breath hitch.
The smirk was slow, lazy, just a curl of Cassidy’s lips.
Like he knew.
Matthew let out a low whistle. “Oh yeah. This was a fantastic idea.”
Arthur barely heard him.
Cassidy’s gaze burned into him, sharp and unshaken.
Masahiro exhaled. “You still want to do this?”
Arthur nodded before he could stop himself.
Masahiro glanced at Matthew, then back at Arthur, before finally pushing the door open.
Cassidy’s smirk didn’t falter as they entered.
If anything, it grew.
“Well,” Cassidy murmured, voice smooth, controlled. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
Arthur felt like he had walked straight into a trap.
And maybe—just maybe—he had.