Chapter 208 Chapter 0207

Chapter 208 Chapter 0207
The cold steel of the cuffs bit into Cassidy’s wrists as the officers shoved him forward. Nathaniel was right beside him, his expression unreadable, his silence heavy with unspoken curses.
The flashing red and blue lights painted harsh streaks across the estate’s stone walls, illuminating the chaos that had unraveled in mere minutes.
Arthur stood frozen, his breath shallow, his limbs numb as he watched Cassidy being dragged toward the waiting patrol car.
This wasn’t right.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Cassidy had come for him. Had saved him. And now—this?
Arthur’s throat tightened as one of the officers pushed Cassidy’s head down, forcing him into the backseat. For a moment—just a fleeting second—Cassidy’s gaze flicked up, locking onto Arthur’s.
That same unreadable smirk tugged at his lips. Like he was amused.
Like he expected this.
Arthur’s stomach twisted.
Nathaniel was next. He didn’t fight, didn’t say a word, but the tension in his jaw was unmistakable. The car door slammed shut behind them, sealing them inside the squad car, their figures dark silhouettes behind the tinted glass.
Arthur finally moved. “Wait—”
Masahiro turned to him, his face unreadable. “Arthur.”
Arthur shook his head. “You can’t just—” He gestured toward the car, struggling to find the words. “He—he saved me. He killed those men, but he—”
Masahiro didn’t blink. “And that’s exactly why he’s under arrest.”
Arthur felt like the ground had been ripped from under him.
Cassidy had killed.
Arthur had seen the bodies, smelled the gunpowder, knew exactly what it meant.
But… Cassidy had come for him.
And now he was watching him disappear into the back of a police car.
Arthur swallowed hard, the image burning itself into his mind.
The Cassidy he had known—the Cassidy he had loved—was possessive, unpredictable, dangerous, but this?
This was something else.
Cassidy had walked into a war for him. Had stepped into hell, knowing full well there was no coming back unscathed.
“Why?”
Arthur didn’t even realize he had whispered the word out loud until Matthew spoke.
“Because he’s fucking obsessed with you,” Matthew muttered, arms crossed, gaze flicking between the car and Arthur. “And because he knew exactly how this would end.”
Arthur turned to him, eyes sharp. “Then why did he do it?”
Matthew’s smirk was humorless. “Why does Cassidy do anything?”
Arthur didn’t have an answer.
Because no matter how much he tried to rationalize it, to break it down logically—none of this made sense.
Cassidy had murdered people.
Cassidy had lied.
Cassidy had built an empire in blood and silence.
And Cassidy was possibly the man who had taken his sister away from him.
Arthur should hate him.
Arthur should be relieved he was in the back of a police car, finally facing the justice he had spent years evading.
So why did it feel like a fucking mistake?
The patrol car’s engine rumbled to life, and before Arthur could stop himself, he took a step forward.
Masahiro’s hand landed firmly on his shoulder.
Arthur turned to him, something desperate flashing in his eyes.
Masahiro didn’t speak for a moment, just studied him, his gaze cutting through every emotion twisting inside him.
Then, finally—
“Let’s go home, Arthur.”
Arthur’s fingers curled into fists.
But the car was already pulling away.
And Cassidy never looked back.
Arthur watched until the flashing red and blue lights faded into the distance, swallowed by the night. His chest felt tight, his thoughts tangled in knots he couldn’t undo.
He barely registered Masahiro guiding him to the car, barely heard the door shut beside him, barely felt the weight of exhaustion dragging at his limbs as the vehicle eased away from the crime scene.
The city lights streaked past the windows, blurred and distant. The low murmur of the police radio hummed from the dashboard, but it felt like background noise, something far away, something that didn’t belong to him anymore.
Arthur sat in the back seat, staring at his hands, his fingers idly tracing over the red marks on his wrists where the bindings had dug into his skin. His body ached, exhaustion pressing against his skull like a dull weight, but his mind—his mind wouldn’t stop.
Cassidy.
Murder.
His sister.
The sirens had faded into the distance, replaced by the low hum of the car engine, the occasional tap of Masahiro’s fingers against the steering wheel.
And then there was Matthew.
Ex-capo. Ex-convict. Ex-a lot of things.
Currently slouched in the passenger seat, staring at the windshield like it personally owed him money.
Then, finally—
Matthew sighed dramatically. “Well, that was a fucking disaster.”
Arthur let out a breathy laugh, something short, dry, humorless. “Yeah.”
Matthew tilted his head, still watching the road. “You okay, kid?”
Arthur blinked. “No.”
Matthew smirked. “Good answer.”
Silence.
Arthur closed his eyes, resting his head against the window. The cool glass against his skin did nothing to ground him.
Nothing made sense.
Nothing.
“Why?” he muttered, mostly to himself.
Matthew turned slightly. “Why what?”
Arthur let out a slow exhale. “Why did he do it?”
Matthew didn’t answer right away, just gave him that look—the one that said he knew exactly what Arthur meant.
Arthur’s hands curled into fists. “I left him,” he murmured. “I—I left him. He’s a criminal. A murderer. Possibly my sister’s murderer. And yet—” He shook his head, a short, sharp laugh escaping him. “He still came for me.”
Matthew hummed. “Yeah. That tracks.”
Arthur frowned. “What?”
Matthew shrugged, propping his elbow against the door. “You think Cassidy’s wired like normal people? The man sees the world like a goddamn chessboard, and guess what? You’re his fucking king piece.”
Arthur scoffed. “That’s stupid.”
Matthew grinned. “And yet here we are.”
Arthur clenched his jaw. “But—if he did kill her, why—why would he—” His voice wavered, frustration tangling in his throat. “Why would he do all this? If he killed my sister, why the hell would he care if I lived or died?”
Matthew sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Look, kid—”
Arthur huffed out another humorless laugh. “Cassidy says he didn’t kill her.”
Matthew glanced at him, something softer in his expression now. “Then he didn’t.”
Arthur’s brow furrowed. “How the hell can you just say that?”
Matthew exhaled, turning in his seat so he could properly look at him. “Because Cassidy’s a lot of things. He’s manipulative, he’s psychotic, he’s got the emotional range of a fucking shark. But if there’s one thing Cassidy Hills doesn’t do, it’s lie about his crimes.”
Arthur hesitated. “You’re saying he wants me to know what he’s done?”
Matthew smirked. “Oh, he lives for it. Cassidy doesn’t hide, doesn’t beg, doesn’t justify. He wants you to know exactly what he is and still not be able to let him go.”
Arthur’s breath hitched.
Matthew’s smirk grew. “And guess what, kid? You haven’t.”
Arthur opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Masahiro finally spoke. “Matthew.”
Matthew waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Don’t mess with the kid’s already fragile emotional state.”
Arthur groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I hate that you sound like you know what you’re talking about.”
Matthew grinned. “That’s because I do.”
Arthur let his head fall back against the seat. “This is so fucked.”
Matthew chuckled. “Oh, incredibly.”
Silence fell between them again, but it wasn’t as heavy as before.
Arthur let out a slow breath, staring at the roof of the car, his mind still a whirlwind, but—
For some reason, the weight in his chest didn’t feel as crushing.
Cassidy was still a criminal.
Cassidy was still a murderer.
Cassidy was still possibly the reason his sister was dead.
But Matthew had said it with so much certainty.
If he says he didn’t, he didn’t.
Arthur didn’t know what to believe.
Didn’t know if he wanted to believe.
But one thing was certain—
Cassidy Hills had walked into hell for him.
And Arthur wasn’t sure if he was ever getting out of it.