Chapter 219 Chapter 0218

Chapter 219 Chapter 0218
The knock on Masahiro’s office door was sharp, impatient.
Masahiro barely looked up from his paperwork. “Come in.”
The door swung open, and Clark walked in with his usual air of barely restrained irritation. Adam followed, stepping in behind him—bigger, heavier, carrying the kind of presence that filled the room before he even said a word.
Arthur looked up from his desk. His brows furrowed—not at Clark, but at the man behind him.
\`Who the hell is that? ´
Masahiro set his pen down and leaned back in his chair, finally glancing up. “Clark.”
Clark’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Masahiro.”
Masahiro’s eyes flicked to Adam. Didn’t know him. But it didn’t take much to put the pieces together.
Matthew had arranged for Clark to have a bodyguard. And judging by the way this guy stood like he’d break a man’s spine for fun, this had to be him.
Adam met Masahiro’s stare, just as assessing. Neither of them spoke. Sizing each other up.
Clark exhaled sharply, clearly over it before it even began. “Alright,” he muttered, dropping into a chair. “We need to talk about how fucking ridiculous this situation is.”
Masahiro’s brow twitched. “Do we?”
Clark scoffed. “Yes, we do.” He gestured vaguely at the room. “I’m defending a capo while being protected by another capo. Do you see how absurd that is?”
Masahiro gave him a long, unimpressed look. “You took the case.”
Clark’s jaw tensed. “That’s not the point.”
Adam, who had been silent until now, leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching Clark’s unnecessary dramatics with amusement.
Then, casually, he dropped, “You know Matthew’s an ex-capo, right?”
Clark froze.
Arthur did too.
Then—very slowly—Clark turned his head toward Masahiro.
Masahiro remained completely, utterly unbothered.
Clark stared at him. Really stared.
Then—flatly—“Masahiro. Are you fucking an ex-capo?”
Masahiro exhaled. “Clark—”
“No, no, no,” Clark waved a hand, standing abruptly. “I knew he was an ex-con—I figured, fine, your taste in men is questionable, whatever—but an ex-capo?” He let out an incredulous laugh. “Do you just have a thing for criminals, or is this a deeper issue?”
Masahiro pinched the bridge of his nose. “Could you not talk like this in front of my junior?”
Arthur, who had been completely silent, stiffened when he realized Masahiro was referring to him.
Clark turned his head toward Arthur, blinking as if he had just remembered he was there. Then, in a tone that was absolutely not helpful—“Oh, Arthur’s already in too deep, aren’t you, kid?”
Arthur clenched his jaw. “I’m not—”
Clark cut him off, looking back at Masahiro. “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?”
Masahiro’s patience was thinning. “Clark.”
Clark threw up his hands. “You’ve got one capo sitting in a holding cell, another one following me around, and now I find out you’re—what? Sleeping with a former capo? What’s next, are we inviting the entire syndicate to the station for tea?”
Masahiro shot him a warning look.
Clark ignored it. “And for the record, why didn’t you tell me?”
Masahiro’s voice was calm. Too calm. “Because it’s not relevant.”
Clark let out an incredulous laugh. “Not relevant?” He gestured wildly toward Adam. “I think it’s very fucking relevant when I am now surrounded by multiple former and current criminals while trying to defend one.”
Adam, still leaning against the wall, was watching Clark’s entire meltdown with the lazy amusement of a man enjoying a free show.
Clark caught the look and scowled. “Do you have something to say?”
Adam smirked. “Nah, I’m just enjoyin’ watchin’ you spiral.”
Clark huffed, rubbing his temples. This was ridiculous.
Then, Masahiro’s phone rang.
Without looking at the caller ID, he answered, putting the call in loud speak. “Payne.”
The voice on the other end was casual. “Hey, honey. Miss me?”
Masahiro barely reacted. “What do you want, Matthew?”
Arthur glanced up, blinking in confusion. Clark sighed, already anticipating bullshit. Adam smirked, watching the scene unfold like entertainment.
“Damn, straight to business. Fine,” Matthew drawled. “Just got outta the shower—feelin’ real good, by the way. Thought I’d call my favorite detective. You’d be proud, I even used soap this time.”
Masahiro closed his eyes briefly, already regretting this. “Matthew—”
“Was thinking about you, y’know,” Matthew continued, voice smooth, completely unaware. “Was in bed earlier, stretching out—legs wide open, just thinkin’—”
Masahiro pressed his lips together and reached for the speaker button to turn it off—too late.
“You ever think about how much work it takes to keep you satisfied? ‘Cause I swear, after last night, my hips are—”
“Matthew,” Masahiro cut in sharply, but the damage was done.
Arthur had gone completely still. His ears turned red, his fingers frozen over his keyboard like he’d just experienced trauma. Clark, meanwhile, closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose as if summoning the will to survive this moment. Adam, on the other hand, let out a low chuckle, shaking his head in pure amusement.
Then—
Matthew’s voice hesitated. “Wait. That wasn’t a speaker click, was it?”
A beat of silence.
Then, Clark’s voice, dry as ever: “Oh, it absolutely was.”
Matthew’s laughter burst through the line. “Oh-ho, shit. Who’s there? Wait—” A pause. “Moneybags?”
Clark pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t call me that.”
Matthew ignored him. “How’s the whole ‘defending a psychopath’ thing going? Cassidy behaving himself?”
Clark’s tone was clipped. “Cassidy is never behaving himself.”
Matthew snorted. “Yeah, figured.” Another pause. “Wait. Is Adam there?”
Adam, amused, spoke up. “Yo.”
Matthew cackled. “Oh, shit. How’s the babysitting gig, big guy? Keeping Moneybags in one piece?”
Adam smirked, casting a glance at Clark. “So far.”
Clark muttered, “I hate this entire conversation.”
Masahiro, finally done with this nonsense, pressed a button and ended the call.
Silence filled the office.
Arthur still looked like he was buffering. Clark was adjusting his glasses, his entire existence radiating exhausted lawyer energy. Adam’s smirk hadn’t faded.
Masahiro simply set his phone down and returned to his paperwork without a word. “So, Clark… are you done?”
Clark dragged a hand down his face. “I need a drink.”
Adam chuckled. “Well, lawyer boy, lucky for you, I know a place.”
Clark glared at him. “Of course, you do.”
Masahiro—ignoring both of them—turned back to Arthur, who had remained painfully silent through the entire exchange.
“Arthur.”
Arthur straightened. “Sir.”
Masahiro’s tone was firm. “Get back to work.”
Arthur nodded stiffly, shoving his attention back to his desk.
Clark exhaled slowly, regaining his composure. “Alright. Fine. Let’s go, MacDougall.”
Adam pushed off the wall, smirking as he followed Clark toward the door. “Didn’t know you was the type to run when shit got complicated.”
Clark shot him a glare over his shoulder. “I’m not running. I’m removing myself from the circus.”
Adam laughed under his breath.
Masahiro didn’t watch them go.
Arthur, however, did.
Because despite every instinct screaming at him to focus on his work, his mind was still stuck on the capo sitting in a holding cell.