The Truth

The Truth
“What are you doing here?” Lanky asked, his eyes scrutinizing his brother's pale appearance.

Mark put on a facade and carefully walked closer to his brother. “Brother, I swear, it wasn't my fault. The bitch you gave me was the one who volunteered to buy drugs for me. I refused at first, but he kept insisting. Brother, please, forgive me,” he said with a remorseful voice.

Maverick's eyes widened, and he looked like he wanted to say something, but Ashley gently held his hands.
Maverick turned to face Ashley, and Ashley slowly shook his head, silencing him.

Lanky didn't say anything at first, he looked at his brother's pitiful look, and his expression softened. But then he looked at Maverick and Ashley, and he looked genuinely confused.

“BB, I will pay more attention to him. Also, the drug is not that ba-”

Lanky turned to face Polo, and the look on Lanky's face immediately shut him up.

“What were you saying about drugs, Polo? It's not bad?” Lanky asked, his voice low but sharp.

Polo acted like he was scared, and quickly puckered his lips. “You're right, Big Boss. Drugs are bad for little boys,” he paused, turning to face Mark. “...But look at him, he's sorry. He even refused to eat all day.”

“Also, he's just a teenager. His twenty-something-year-old maid is supposed to know how dangerous drugs are. He didn't discourage or report Mark. Instead, he went ahead to buy hard substances for him. He should be punished,” Polo gently explained, and Mark nodded his head in agreement.

Lanky looked conflicted, but he made sure that he maintained his stern expression.

“Mark, go to your room. I will send for you later,” Lanky said to his brother.

Mark looked reluctant to leave, and he turned to face Polo, asking for his guidance. Polo nodded, gesturing for him to leave, and Mark sluggishly left, after giving Maverick a deadly gaze.

“You can't keep treating him like a child. He knows what he's doing, and he keeps acting that way because you let him get away with everything,” Ashley complained, moving closer to Lanky.

Polo sighed, uninterested in the conversation. “Where is Herod? He wasn't home all night. Do you know where he went?” He asked, looking around.

Ashley smirked mischievously. “Yes, he went to see his mistress. I heard you threw a big party for single men yesterday. Are you done sucking cocks?”

Polo's eyes widened, and he immediately turned to face Lanky. “He went to see who?”

Lanky sighed, opening a bottle of wine and gulping down the contents. “He's in the room downstairs. Also, Birdie needs to rest. Get out, you're disturbing him!” he said, his voice filled with frustration.

Polo looked relieved, and he took a deep breath. “Thanks, BB,” he said, and pecked Lanky's cheeks before leaving.

Ashley watched everything with a distasteful look on his face. He couldn't explain why, but something about Polo just put him on edge. Maybe it was because Polo was fond of humiliating him.

When Ashley first met Lanky, Polo deemed him un-fit to stay beside Lanky, and he tried to discredit him every chance he got. So naturally, Ashley grew to hate Polo.

The room settled into a strained quiet after Polo’s exit, the faint echo of the door clicking shut lingering longer than it should.

Ashley didn’t move immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the spot where Polo had stood, his jaw tight, his fingers unconsciously curling into fists.

Lanky noticed this and cleared his throat.

“You’re still holding onto that?” he asked flatly, pouring himself another drink without looking up.

Ashley let out a dry scoff. “You say that like he’s changed.”

“He has,” Lanky replied, though there was a slight pause before the words left his mouth.

Ashley stepped closer, his boots barely making a sound this time. “No. He just got better at hiding it. He hates me, I can see it in his eyes. He believes the only person capable of being with you is someone born wealthy.

That made Lanky look up. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, a soft sound broke through the tension.

It was a weak cough, and both men turned at once.

Maverick stirred slightly on the couch, his brows furrowed as if he were caught in a nightmare. His breathing had become uneven, his fingers twitching faintly against the fabric beneath him.

Ashley was beside him in seconds.

“Easy… easy,” he murmured, sitting on the edge of the couch and gently lifting Maverick’s head. “You’re safe. The bad guys are gone.”

Lanky frowned at Ashley's words but said nothing.

Maverick knew that to gain the Mafia's trust, he had to act hopeless and weak, so he used the same trick he used on his parents.

Maverick swallowed hard, his fingers clutching weakly at Ashley’s shirt. “…I wasn't the one who told Mark- I mean Mr. Mark to use drugs,” he whispered, almost desperately. “I didn’t—”

“I know.”

The words came from across the room. It was Lanky's voice, and Maverick froze.

Slowly, he turned his head.

Lanky stood a few feet away, leaning against the table with a glass in his hand. His expression was unreadable again, but there was something different now, less sharp, more calculating.

“I picked up what you dropped,” Lanky continued, his voice gentle. “Care to explain why my brother’s little problem ended up in your hands?”

Maverick’s face paled again.

Ashley’s expression hardened instantly. “He doesn’t owe you…”

“He does,” Lanky cut in, his tone calm but final. “Because right now, he’s breathing under my roof. I want to know the exact reason he had a pack of drugs with him. I also want to know why he lied.”

There was silence, and Maverick wondered if Lanky also wanted to know what he was doing in a motel with a guy.

Ashley looked ready to argue, but Maverick’s grip on his shirt tightened slightly.

“…It wasn’t my idea,” Maverick said, his voice still shaky but clearer now. “I didn't even know that it was hard drugs. When Victor gave it to me, he said it was… hmm, salt.”

Lanky’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And you expect me to believe that?”

Maverick hesitated. Then, quietly, he nodded. “I wanted to throw it away, I swear. That was when Victor caught me and dragged me to his room.”

That caught both men off guard. Ashley blinked, glancing down at him.

Maverick forced himself to continue, even though his voice trembled. “I… I knew it wasn’t right. I just didn’t know how to get rid of it without causing trouble. I am sorry I lied to both of you.”

Lanky studied him for a long moment. Long enough to make Maverick’s chest tighten again.

“…You’re either very stupid,” Lanky finally said, setting his glass down with a soft clink, “or very unlucky.”

Ashley exhaled through his nose. “Or maybe he’s just not part of your mess.”

Lanky ignored that. Instead, he walked closer.

Maverick instinctively stiffened.

Lanky stopped right in front of him, his gaze dropping slightly as he observed every small reaction. The tension, the fear, the way Maverick tried (and failed) to mask it.

“…Growing up you wanted to become a police officer, didn’t you?” Lanky asked suddenly.

Maverick blinked, startled. “H-How did you-”

“You don’t look like someone built for this kind of life,” Lanky interrupted. “You look like someone who still believes things can be clean. Someone the world thinks they need.”

That hit deeper than expected. Maverick didn’t respond. He was too shocked to open his mouth. Lanky was one step away from finding out his true intentions.

Lanky tilted his head, a faint smirk returning, but it wasn’t as mocking as before.

“You know, that’s dangerous. If you had ended up a police officer, it would have been a problem for my business, and I'd have had to kill you.”

Ashley’s eyes narrowed. “Come on, Lanky. Please, you're scaring a sick man.”

But Lanky didn’t move. “If you’re always telling the truth about everything,” he said, his voice lowering slightly, “then you’re in the wrong place, Birdie.”

There was a pause.

“And if you’re lying to me…” Lanky's gaze sharpened. “...Pray that I never find out because I hate being played. Even Ashley wouldn't be able to save you once I catch you!”