Chapter 213 Chapter 012

Chapter 213 Chapter 012
Arthur sat at his desk, fingers poised over his keyboard, but his mind was elsewhere.
He was supposed to be working—supposed to be focusing on the backlog of reports Masahiro had handed him that morning.
But he couldn’t.
Because in a few minutes, the lawyer would arrive.
Clark Brown.
Arthur knew of him, of course. The name had been whispered around the city. A sharp, calculated legal mind. One of the best defense lawyers in the city.
And now?
Now, Cassidy’s fate was in his hands.
Arthur exhaled slowly, trying to push down the uneasy weight in his chest.
At the other desk, Masahiro was deeply focused, working without distraction, as if the case of the century wasn’t about to walk through the door.
And then there was Matthew.
Sprawled lazily in a random chair, legs stretched out, hunched slightly over his phone.
Focused.
But not on work.
Arthur didn’t even have to ask—he could see the faint reflection of a game on the screen.
Typical.
Then—
A knock.
Arthur immediately straightened, looking toward the door.
Matthew didn’t even glance up.
Instead, still focused on his phone—
"Come in."
Arthur almost groaned.
The door opened, and for a brief second, Arthur’s heart sank.
Not the lawyer.
Just Masahiro’s secretary, standing neatly in the doorway.
But then—
A man stepped in behind her.
Arthur’s breath hitched.
Tall. Blonde. Grey eyes under polished glasses.
A perfectly tailored suit. Expensive shoes. A briefcase held effortlessly in one hand.
As he entered, he adjusted his glasses with a measured flick of his fingers.
The very definition of composed. Unbothered. Untouchable.
Arthur had expected some smooth-talking, well-dressed lawyer.
But Clark Brown looked like he belonged in a courtroom made of steel and glass, walking into battles he already knew he would win.
The secretary spoke.
"Chief Payne, I bring Mr. Brown."
At that, both Masahiro and Matthew looked up.
Masahiro immediately stood, stepping forward.
Matthew, on the other hand, simply lifted his head slightly and muttered, "Huh. Fancy lawyer."
Arthur resisted the urge to rub his temples.
Masahiro extended a hand.
"Clark."
Clark took it, his handshake firm but brief.
"Masahiro." His voice was smooth, carefully measured, as if he had already judged the entire situation and found it unimpressive.
They greeted each other with the efficiency of two men who had once worked together but now lived in entirely different worlds.
Then, Clark adjusted his briefcase, cutting straight to the point.
"So. What's the deal?"
Masahiro didn't waste time. "Follow me."
He turned, already walking toward the door.
"Let’s go," he added over his shoulder, glancing at Arthur and Matthew.
Matthew stretched with a groan, slipping his phone into his pocket before standing.
Arthur stood as well, falling into step behind Masahiro.
Clark followed, his steps unhurried, his expression unreadable.
The four of them moved through the corridors, officers moving around them, phones ringing in the distance.
Masahiro spoke as they walked.

"This is Matthew."
Clark barely flicked his gaze toward Matthew, offering a curt nod. "Charmed."
Matthew smirked. "Likewise, Moneybags."
Clark barely acknowledged it.
"And this is Arthur," Masahiro continued.
Clark glanced at Arthur—a brief, unreadable scan, like he was calculating something.
"Matthew, Arthur..." Masahiro gave them both a warning glance before turning to Clark. "This is Clark Brown. A lawyer—and a former colleague."
Clark offered a dry, knowing smile.
"I was a prosecutor, once."
Then he sighed dramatically.
"But I grew tired of pretending people like you weren’t making my job harder."
Arthur frowned. "People like me?"
Clark smirked. "Emotionally compromised. Idealistic. Bad at lying."
Arthur opened his mouth—then closed it.
Matthew grinned the entire time.
Masahiro simply kept walking.
Because this was already going to be a very long day.
Masahiro kept leading the way, his stride purposeful. Matthew followed, still looking far too amused for the gravity of the situation.
Arthur exhaled slowly as they neared the interrogation wing. He steeled himself, trying to keep his thoughts from spiraling.
This was just another step. Another move in a game he wasn’t even sure he understood.
Masahiro nodded toward the door, a silent cue.
Arthur swallowed hard and stepped inside.
The air inside the holding room was thick, charged with something unspoken.
Cassidy sat comfortably, hands cuffed, but his posture?
Relaxed.
Like he wasn’t sitting across from a lawyer who had the power to get him out—or let him rot.
Like he hadn’t just executed six men in cold blood.
Masahiro and Arthur sat on one side of the table.
Clark sat on the other, notebook open, pen ready.
Matthew?
Matthew leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the whole thing unfold like it was the best entertainment of his life.
Clark, as if already regretting everything, adjusted his glasses.
"Mr. Hills. I’m Clark Brown. Your lawyer."
Cassidy tilted his head, smirking. "I was wondering when you’d show up."
Clark, not rising to the bait, clicked his pen. "Let’s start simple. How exactly did you end up here?"
Cassidy sighed, dragging his fingers over the steel table. "Rescuing someone I shouldn’t have."
Arthur stiffened.
Clark wrote something down. "And that involved—?"
Cassidy leaned back, exhaling. "An estate outside the city. Private. Secure. Six men inside."
Clark’s pen stilled for half a second before resuming. "And those six men are now...?"
Cassidy smirked. "Not my problem anymore."
Arthur inhaled sharply, jaw tight.
Matthew grinned.
Masahiro?
Masahiro simply exhaled, rubbing his temple like he had expected this level of bullshit.
Clark, expression unreadable, continued.
"Walk me through it."
Cassidy leaned back in his chair, completely unbothered. His voice was calm, measured—just stating facts.
“First one—hallway guard. Took him out with a suppressor, center mass. No noise, no struggle.”
He tilted his head slightly, watching Clark’s expression.

“Second—he turned the corner, reached for his gun. I was faster. One shot. Dropped instantly.”
A slow smirk.
“Third one ran.” Cassidy exhaled, tapping his fingers against the table. “Didn’t get far. Bullet to the spine. Quick.”
His gaze locked onto Clark’s.
“Fourth, bad positioning, he went down fast. No collateral. No unnecessary mess. Just the ones in the way.”
Arthur’s hands clenched in his lap.
Clark?
Clark kept writing.
"And the last two?"
Cassidy’s smirk faded slightly.
"They were around… blind spots."
The air shifted.
Arthur looked away.
Clark, for the first time, stopped writing completely.
Cassidy tapped the table. "That a problem, lawyer?"
Clark slowly lifted his gaze.
Expression calm. Neutral. But his eyes?
His eyes were judging.
Then—
A slow, tired sigh.
"Do you understand how legally complicated this is?"
Cassidy raised a brow.
"You tell me. That’s what I’m paying you for."
Clark tapped a finger against his notepad. "You killed six people, Mr. Hills. Regardless of motive, you’re looking at a life sentence unless I can prove—"
Cassidy cut in smoothly. "It was a justified rescue."
Clark stared at him.
Cassidy smiled.
Masahiro sighed.
Arthur buried his face in his hands.
Matthew grinned like this was the most fun he’d had in months.
Clark, without breaking eye contact with Cassidy, muttered under his breath—
"You’re lucky I like a challenge."
Cassidy chuckled.
"Then you’ll love me."
Clark clicked his pen.
"Doubtful."
Clark exhaled slowly, pressing his pen against his notebook before lifting his gaze.
"Is there anything else I should know?"
Silence.
Arthur frowned slightly. Masahiro’s brow twitched.
Cassidy simply smirked.
It was Matthew who caught on first.
Leaning back against the wall, he grinned.
"That Cassidy stepped in another Capo’s business?"
Clark’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"Capos?"
Matthew raised a brow. "You don’t know?"
Clark’s expression flattened. "Do I look like I spend my free time keeping up with the mafia hierarchy?"
Matthew snorted. "Couldn’t hurt."
Masahiro, ever the professional, cut in. "Cassidy is a boss inside the mafia here in Middlesbrough."
Clark’s pen stilled against the page.
Masahiro continued, tone measured. "But he stepped into the human trafficking business. That’s another capo’s domain."
Clark blinked. Once.
Then—
He relaxed into his chair.
"Of course he did."
His expression was one of pure, quiet exasperation.
The kind of expression that said: ‘How else could this get worse?’
Cassidy?
Cassidy grinned wider.
"Are you picking up the case, Mr. Brown?"
Arthur turned to Clark, eyes wide, like some kind of desperate, pleading puppy.
Clark sighed.
"Can you all leave me alone with Mr. Hills?"
The room went silent.
Masahiro’s gaze flicked toward Matthew. Matthew shrugged. Arthur hesitated.
But one by one, they all left.
The door clicked shut.
Cassidy tilted his head slightly, watching Clark like he was waiting to be entertained.
Clark, on the other hand, remained still.
Watching him.
Calculating.
Then—
"I’m gonna be honest with you, Mr. Hills."
Cassidy lifted his brows slightly.
Clark continued, tone cool, professional. "Unfortunately, I won’t be able to get you out of this entirely."
Cassidy exhaled through his nose.
For the first time since this conversation started, his smirk faded slightly.
Clark clicked his pen once against the table, thinking.
"Your normal sentence for six confirmed murders—" He paused, tapping his fingers against the table.
Clark ran through UK law in his head, calculating.
Then, calmly—
"At best? Life imprisonment. Likely with a minimum of 25 to 30 years before parole eligibility. At worst? Full life order. No parole. Ever."
Arthur, standing outside by the glass window, visibly stiffened.
Cassidy?
Cassidy just nodded.
Like he expected it.
Clark studied him for a long, thoughtful moment before continuing.
"But I can lessen it. I can negotiate down to three to five years. No less, no more."
Cassidy leaned back slightly, expression unreadable.
Then, he nodded.
Serious. For once.
Clark inhaled slowly. "How much are you willing to pay?"
Cassidy’s smirk returned.
"Are you working on Nathaniel’s case too?"
Clark nodded. "Yes. But tell me—how deep is he in the case?"
Cassidy shrugged. "He just shot one person."
Clark pressed his lips together, thinking.
After a moment, he nodded several times, almost to himself.
"I can negotiate for home imprisonment."
Cassidy grinned. "Perfect."
Clark clicked his pen closed.
"What’s your offer?"
Cassidy leaned forward slightly, voice smooth.
"I’m willing to pay five hundred thousand upfront, and another five hundred once the case is settled."
Clark didn’t react immediately.
But internally?
Internally, he just agreed to a million-pound deal.
A deal that could clear his debts.
A deal that could keep him afloat for years.
A deal that, for all his pride, he wasn’t going to turn down.
Clark nodded once.
"I’m taking your case."
Cassidy’s smirk widened slightly. "Perfect."
Clark stood up, adjusting his suit.
"I’ll be back tomorrow with documents."
Cassidy watched him, eyes sharp. "I like you, lawyer."
Clark didn’t even pause.
Didn’t react.
Didn’t give Cassidy the satisfaction.
He simply turned, walked toward the door, and left, the door clicking shut behind him.
Three sets of eyes were already waiting.
Masahiro—expression unreadable but studying him carefully.
Matthew—leaning against the wall, arms crossed, like he already knew what the answer was.
Arthur—sitting stiffly, tension in his shoulders, his gaze flickering with something between hope and fear.
Clark exhaled slowly, adjusting his cufflinks.
Arthur spoke first.
"Well?"
Clark glanced at him briefly, then sighed. "I’m taking the case."
Arthur visibly relaxed, relief washing over his face.
Masahiro gave a slow nod, as if he expected nothing less.
Matthew grinned. "Of course you are, Moneybags. The second you saw the paycheck, your moral crisis died a quiet death."
Clark cut him a flat look. "I don’t take cases just for the money."
Matthew tilted his head. "You don’t take ‘em without it either."
Clark ignored that. Instead, he straightened, brushing invisible dust off his sleeve.
"I’ll be back tomorrow with documents. Until then, I need to prepare."
Masahiro nodded. "We’ll keep you updated on anything relevant."
Arthur, still looking slightly stunned, opened his mouth as if he wanted to say more.
But Clark had already turned, heading toward the exit.