Chapter 225 Chapter 0224

Chapter 225 Chapter 0224
The atmosphere in Masahiro’s office was thick with tension.
Clark stepped in first, his suit crisp, posture composed, despite the hangover weighing on him. Adam followed, silent, imposing, watching.
Masahiro looked up from his desk. "Clark."
Clark nodded. "Masahiro."
Arthur was already there, sitting stiffly, his hands gripping the edge of his chair like he’d been waiting for this moment.
Masahiro turned slightly. "Cooper, the file."
Arthur was fast—too fast. He grabbed it like it was life or death, shoving it toward Clark before Clark even sat down.
Clark narrowed his eyes. Noted that.
He flipped the file open, eyes scanning the legal jargon, the cold, hard details of Cassidy’s case.
A slow exhale.
"Alright. Let’s tear this apart."
Masahiro leaned back slightly. "What’s going to be the prosecution’s angle?"
Clark didn’t look up. "They will try to make Cassidy look like a hitman, not a rescuer."
Arthur leaned forward immediately.
"That’s bullshit."
Clark lifted a brow.
Arthur’s jaw was clenched. His hands were gripping his knee. Hard.
"He saved twenty people. If he hadn’t shown up, I’d be dead."
Clark held his gaze. "And yet, you let him take the fall."
Arthur flinched.
Masahiro’s stare didn’t waver.
Arthur swallowed hard.
"I didn’t—I didn’t mean for that to happen." His voice was tight, almost desperate. "I never said he should be arrested. I never wanted that!"
Clark let the silence stretch.
Arthur’s fingers dug into his knee.
"He saved my life." His voice cracked, just barely. "If I have to get up there and tell every single person in that courtroom that he isn’t a murderer, I will."
Clark leaned back slightly, watching him.
Adam, from his spot against the wall, let out a low, amused chuckle.
"Damn, kid. You sound like you’re about to go to war for this guy."
Arthur snapped his head toward him. "I am."
Adam’s smirk flickered.
Clark closed the file.
"Then let’s make sure you don’t lose."
Masahiro folded his hands on the desk. “The prosecution will argue premeditated murder. How do we counter that?”
Arthur spoke before Clark could.
"We make them see that he didn’t have a choice."
Clark looked at him. Really looked at him.
Arthur’s hands were shaking slightly.
"We make them see what I saw that day," Arthur continued, voice tight. "Cassidy didn’t walk in there to kill. He walked in there to save people. The only reason he killed them is because they wouldn’t let him."
Clark’s lips pressed together.
Masahiro was watching Arthur closely now.
"And you’re willing to say all that in court?" Clark asked.
Arthur’s jaw locked.
"Yes."
Clark exhaled slowly.
"Then we make that the foundation of our case."
Arthur nodded, sharp. Determined.
Cassidy had gone to jail because of him.
And he was going to get him out.
Clark tapped his fingers against the folder.
"The jury will see ‘mafia’ next to Cassidy’s name, and nothing else will matter."
Masahiro nodded slightly.
"So how do you make them hesitate?"
Arthur’s voice was firm, certain.
"We show them who he really is."
Clark lifted a brow.
Arthur’s eyes were shining. Determined. Desperate.
"We make them see that Cassidy isn’t just a criminal." His voice wavered, just slightly. "We make them see that he’s a man who gave up his own freedom to save people."
Masahiro’s brow lifted slightly.
Clark smirked.
"Now that’s an argument."
Adam let out a low whistle.
"Damn, kid. You sure you ain’t a lawyer?"
Arthur ignored him.
Masahiro turned to Arthur. "Start compiling personal statements from the hostages. We need emotional testimony."
Arthur nodded immediately.
"Alright. I need to see Cassidy," Clark said.
Masahiro barely reacted, simply tilting his head slightly. "Now?"
Clark didn’t look up as he gathered his things. "Unless you have a better idea?"
Masahiro’s expression remained unreadable. Cold. Calculating. He didn’t like this case. He didn’t like Clark defending Cassidy. But law was control, not morality.
Arthur sat forward suddenly. "I want to go."
Clark paused. Eyed him.
Masahiro’s gaze lifted—sharp, assessing.
Arthur swallowed but held his ground. "I need to be there."
Masahiro said nothing. His fingers tapped against the desk—just once.
Clark smirked slightly, watching the tension build. "Careful, kid. You sound desperate."
Arthur’s jaw tightened.
Masahiro’s gaze didn’t waver. His silence was a weight in the room. Then, finally—"Why?"
Arthur hesitated.
Masahiro leaned back slightly, folding his hands. "Give me a reason."
Arthur’s fingers curled against his knee. "Because…" He exhaled sharply. "Because if I don’t, I won’t be able to face him in court."
Masahiro’s stare didn’t break.
Arthur was still talking— his voice lower now, steady but strained.
"I owe him."
Masahiro was silent. Still.
Arthur swallowed. Held his gaze.
"I need to go."
A long beat of absolute silence.
Masahiro’s fingers drummed once against the desk.
Then, finally—"Fine."
Arthur exhaled sharply, relief barely masked.
Clark, amused, tilted his head. "That was a lot of effort for something I could’ve just taken you to anyway."
Masahiro’s gaze snapped to Clark.
"You watch him."
Clark arched a brow. "Excuse me?"
Masahiro’s tone was flat, unwavering. "If you take him, you take responsibility."
Arthur looked betrayed.
Clark, meanwhile, sighed heavily, rubbing his temple. "Fine, fine. Jesus, Masahiro, he’s not a child."
"He’s my officer." Masahiro’s voice was final.
Arthur stiffened.
Clark, rolling his eyes, turned toward the door. "Whatever. Let’s move before I regret this more than I already do."
Arthur stood quickly, following.
Adam, who had been watching in absolute silence, finally chuckled under his breath.
"Damn. That was a whole performance."
Clark shot him a glare. "Shut up and drive."
Outside, the air was cool and sharp, carrying the distant hum of city traffic. Clark adjusted his suit, his steps sharp as he crossed the pavement toward the car. Arthur followed a little stiffly, silent, too caught in his own head.
Adam, hands in his pockets, strode beside them at a casual, unbothered pace. His eyes flicked between the two before shaking his head.
"So what’s the verdict, counselor?" Adam drawled. "We lettin’ your psycho client rot, or are we actually tryin’ to get him out?"
Clark didn’t even look at him. "If I were letting him rot, I wouldn’t be wasting my time on this."
Adam smirked. "Shame. I was hopin’ you had more sense."
Arthur shot him a glare. "He saved people."
Adam arched a brow, amused. "That what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night, kid?"
Arthur’s jaw tightened.
Clark sighed, rubbing his temple. "I swear to God, if I have to listen to you two fight the whole way there—"
"No promises." Adam grinned, unlocking the car with a click.
Arthur climbed into the backseat without another word, clearly done with the conversation.
Clark slid into the passenger seat, adjusting his tie as Adam got behind the wheel.
The car rumbled to life.
Adam pulled out of the station lot, one hand on the wheel, the other adjusting the air conditioning.
Clark was already on his phone, scrolling through emails, his expression completely uninterested in the world around him.
Arthur, in the back seat, was silent. Too silent. His knee bounced slightly.
Adam noticed.
He smirked, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Relax, kid. You look like you’re the one about to get sentenced."
Arthur shot him a glare. "I’m not a kid."
Adam chuckled. "Right, my bad. Grown-ass man sittin’ in the backseat fidgetin’ like he’s gonna piss himself."
Arthur’s nostrils flared.
Clark didn’t even look up from his phone. "Adam, stop harassing my intern."
Arthur snapped, "I’m not your intern!"
Clark finally glanced back, raising a brow. "Then stop acting like one."
Arthur looked properly offended.
Adam, enjoying this, added lazily, "So, lawyer boy, what’s the plan? You just gonna flirt with Cassidy till he confesses?"
Clark sighed, rubbing his temple. "MacDougall, I’d rather break my own nose than flirt with Cassidy."
"Huh. Dramatic." Adam smirked. "Could just say you don’t like dark haired guys."
Clark lowered his phone completely, blinking slowly. "MacDougall. Shut the hell up."
Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Can we focus?"
Clark exhaled. "Alright, listen up."
Adam made a mocking little ‘listening’ motion with his hand.
Clark ignored him.
"Cassidy listens when it benefits him. He also likes control. If I let him think he has control, he’ll play along."
Arthur frowned. "And what if he doesn’t?"
Clark tilted his head slightly. "Then we make sure he understands the alternative is worse."
Arthur swallowed.
Adam grinned. "Damn. Ain’t you just a ray of sunshine."
Clark shot him a flat look.
They drove in silence after that, but it wasn’t comfortable. It was charged.
Arthur, staring out the window, kept flexing his fingers.
Adam, casual, but aware.
Clark, silent, but calculating.
The detention center loomed ahead, gray and lifeless against the overcast sky. A perfect cage for a man like Cassidy Hills.
Clark adjusted his cuffs as Adam pulled into the lot, his mind already miles ahead, strategizing. He was about to walk into a room with a psychopath who had paid a fortune just to ensure his lawyer worked himself to the bone to reduce his sentence.
And Clark?
Clark was going to make sure he got his money’s worth.
Adam killed the engine.
Arthur exhaled. Loudly.
Clark shot him a look. "If you’re already breathing like that, you might as well turn around and go home."
Arthur stiffened. "I just—"
"You just what? Thought this was going to be a nice little chat?" Clark arched a brow. "Newsflash, kid. He didn’t hire me to hold his hand through the trial. He hired me to keep his ass out of a life sentence. And when you throw money at a problem, you expect results."
Arthur clenched his jaw.
Adam stretched his arms over the wheel. "Damn. That’s real inspiring, lawyer boy. You put that on your business cards?"
Clark ignored him and opened the door.
"Let’s go."
The detention center was as cold as it looked—gray walls, steel floors, the kind of place that should break a man. But Cassidy Hills, sitting in the interrogation room, didn’t look broken at all.
He was still a predator—cuffed to a chair, yet his presence felt like it consumed the entire room.
When the door opened, his eyes didn’t immediately settle on Clark. Instead, they flicked straight to Arthur. The look in his eyes wasn’t calculating, it wasn’t cold—it was a look Cassidy couldn’t disguise, even if he tried.
Arthur, feeling the heat of that gaze, instinctively stiffened. It was as if Cassidy saw him in a way no one else did.
Clark didn’t miss the shift in atmosphere. He sat down at the table, eyes sharp. "Let’s get this over with."
Cassidy barely acknowledged him. His attention was locked on Arthur, his expression softened—almost affectionate.
"You’re still here," Cassidy murmured, the words slipping out like they meant more than just a statement.
Arthur’s throat tightened. "I’m here to get you out, Cassidy."
Cassidy nodded slightly but didn’t look away. His lips quirked in the faintest of smiles.
"Funny how things work out," Cassidy said. His voice was more genuine now, less of the cold manipulator he usually was. "You were the one I thought I’d never see again."
Arthur’s chest felt too tight for a moment. He could feel Cassidy’s gaze on him, weighing him, as if everything had shifted in the last few seconds.
Clark cleared his throat. "Cassidy, focus." His voice was cut and dry, professional. He opened the file in front of him. "You shot six men. We need to talk about that."
Cassidy finally looked away, shifting in his seat and sighing. His usual smirk was back in full force.
"I did," he said. His voice slightly teasing as he flicked his eyes back to Arthur. "But you know, I saved twenty more."
Arthur’s hands tightened into fists at his sides.
"And one of them was you." Cassidy’s gaze held nothing but sincerity for just a beat. It was so fleeting, so intimate, but it didn’t slip past Arthur.
Clark, still buried in the file, glanced up at Cassidy, clearly unimpressed by his emotional manipulation. "You killed six men. I’m trying to keep you from a life sentence. Don’t make this harder than it already is."
Cassidy shrugged nonchalantly, but there was something different in his demeanor now. "I’m willing to cooperate. What do you need me to do?"
Clark paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What changed?"
Cassidy’s lips curled into a half-smile. "Nothing."
But it was clear.
Cassidy was more willing to cooperate because Arthur’s presence unnerved him in a way he wasn’t used to—and he’d do anything to keep Arthur’s attention, even if it meant playing by Clark’s rules.
Clark’s voice broke the quiet tension. "Alright, if you want to cooperate, you need to give me a real defense."
Cassidy leaned forward, his eyes never leaving Arthur’s. "What do you need, counselor?"
Arthur wasn’t sure how to respond, caught in Cassidy’s gaze, feeling something twist inside of him. Part of him wanted to reach out, to make sure Cassidy didn’t push things too far, but he knew better.
Cassidy, sensing that uncertainty, smiled even wider.
"You’re still in love with me, aren’t you, Arthur?" Cassidy’s voice was low, almost a whisper.
Arthur’s stomach tightened. He wasn’t prepared for this, wasn’t prepared to feel so exposed under Cassidy’s gaze.
Clark’s voice cut through the tension. "We’re here to discuss your case, Cassidy. Not your personal life."
Cassidy’s smile faded slightly, but he didn’t look away from Arthur. He was too far gone now, and he was still willing to do whatever it took to keep Arthur’s attention.
"You still care, though, don’t you, Arthur?"
Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. His breath came too fast, and for a second, he couldn’t think straight.
Clark, sensing the unspoken tension between them, leaned in, his voice sharper. "Cassidy, stop."
Cassidy leaned back, teasing now, but still keeping his eyes trained on Arthur. "No harm in asking, right?"
Arthur blinked, suddenly shaken out of the haze Cassidy had put him in. "Stop." He said it again, quieter this time.
Clark looked between the two of them, something like realization crossing his features. He knew this wasn’t just a professional visit anymore—it was personal.
"We’ll talk about the case," Clark continued. "If you want a chance at freedom, you’ll stop wasting time with games."
Cassidy smirked. "Fine."
He leaned back in his chair, his demeanor shifting back to his usual cocky self. "But you know I don’t play nice unless I get what I want. And you already know what I want, right, Arthur?"
Clark narrowed his eyes, but he said nothing. He let Cassidy take control of the moment—for now.