Say You Love Me

"He took his mother's last name. Like her, he was the closest person to me."

The song "Loving Strangers" had played on loop more times than anyone could count. Yet, even past midnight, the bar remained filled with drifting souls reluctant to leave.

A middle-aged man in a sharp suit sat at the bar, nursing his third East India of the night. His date was clearly a no-show. Just as he was about to pack up and leave, the sharp clink of glasses from a nearby corner caught his attention.

"Cheers!"

"Congratulations to our handsome, charming, and universally beloved Sean Sutherland. Soon to be the youngest CEO of Saraca."

Saraca? That was a highly prestigious international rescue firm.

The businessman glanced over. In a nearby booth, the young man being toasted lowered the rim of his glass, tapping it lightly against the girl's. "Here's to my victory!"

He looked to be in his early twenties, with a touch of boyish softness still lingering in his cheeks. Dressed in a relaxed white suit, he exuded the effortless, vibrant confidence unique to his youth.

Sensing the gaze, the young man turned his head slightly. His fluffy bangs swept neatly across his forehead, and he arched a brow with playful curiosity, as if asking: Need something?

Catching that look, the businessman decided his hours of waiting hadn't been a waste after all. He raised his glass. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Sean lifted his hand, casually displaying a simple, unadorned band on his ring finger. Then he gestured toward a booth across the room, where only the top of someone's head was visible.

"My boyfriend. He gets jealous easily. And he fights."

The man looked surprised, clearly disappointed that such a gorgeous boy was already taken, and by someone apparently petty and short-tempered. But on second thought, someone this attractive making waves at Saraca at such a young age had to have a powerful backer.

The man's expression shifted subtly. He mumbled a quick "Sorry" and beat a hasty retreat.

The girl sitting opposite Sean was Chloe Westmoreland. She owned the bar and was one of Sean's trusted partners-in-crime. Their friendship survived entirely on their shared taste in men—after all, despite their different genders, they were both attracted to the same sex.

"Do you even know him? Suddenly he's your boyfriend."

Sean shrugged. "When you're out and about, you can be whoever you want, right?"

She was long used to Sean's habit of claiming random boyfriends to ward off unwanted attention. "Do that too often, and you'll eventually run into trouble."

Sean was always quick to take advice, never letting his fake flirtations linger. He gestured to the waiter and pointed toward the booth he had used as a shield. "Put whatever that gentleman has tonight on my tab."

The man in the booth seemed to hear. Without turning around, he raised his hand and toasted back with his glass—revealing a simple band that looked remarkably similar to Sean's.

"Well, aren't you two a match."

Sean brushed it off. Simple bands all looked more or less the same anyway.

"So, your old man's term is that if you get Universum Fund to invest in Saraca, he'll transfer his thirty percent shares to you?" Chloe steered the conversation back to their original topic. "No other strings attached?"

"Do you think getting Universum Fund to invest is easy?" Sean pointed to the dark circles under his eyes. "See these? These are my badges of honor from working myself to the bone for the past six months. I've practically lost my abs."

Chloe tilted her head in thought. "I'm not doubting your capability. It's just that him suddenly offering you such a massive carrot makes me uneasy."

"Who cares what he's planning." The shifting lights of the bar reflected in Sean's eyes like gems, gleaming with the quiet determination of a predator waiting in the shadows. "Once I secure the investment from Universum Fund and step into the CEO role, I can finally take back my mother's company."

Chloe nodded. "Fair enough. Take it easy on the drinks, though. You didn't bring any bodyguards tonight."

"Tristan is picking me up."

Right on cue, a man in a sharp business suit walked in through the back door. He called out softly from across the booths, "Sean, let's go."

"Tristan, you really coddle him. He's twenty-three, and you still chauffeur him to and from bars."

"You're just jealous," Sean teased, pulling a face as he walked away without looking back. "See ya."

As the car merged onto the highway, Sean noticed Tristan stifling a yawn.

"I could have made it back on my own, you know."

"What? Growing up and getting tired of me?" Tristan teased.

Sean laughed. He thought back to years ago, when he was just a toddler of two or three, knowing nothing of the world, when his mother had brought home a brother from the orphanage.

He took his mother's last name. Like her, Tristan was the closest person to Sean in the world.

After their mother passed away, Sean moved out of the Sutherland estate. On the rare occasions he had to go back, Tristan always made sure to accompany him.

Sean leaned idly against the passenger window, chatting with Tristan. He cracked the glass open a sliver. The night breeze, carrying the chill of spring rain, stung his face, keeping him alert.

Suddenly, Sean glanced at the side mirror, then turned to look out the rear window.

"Someone is tailing us."

"I know. They've been on us since we left the bar." Tristan remained calm, tapping the dashboard security system. "I've already notified Thomas. Our backup should be here soon."

Sean immediately relaxed. Tristan was always thorough. Besides, as the heir of the city's wealthiest family, dealing with kidnapping threats was practically a childhood lesson. Sean had taken self-defense classes; as long as the attackers didn't have firearms, he could easily handle three or four men on his own. With Tristan by his side, they could easily hold out until security arrived.

"Bring security with you when you go out in the future. Just in case," Tristan advised.

"With you around, there is no 'in case'."

"What if I'm not..."

Before Tristan could finish, the headlights behind them suddenly surged forward. One SUV sped up to cut off their front, while another lunged in, almost scraping their side panels.

Sean was thrown sideways, only for his seatbelt to snap him back. He glared angrily at the off-road vehicle beside them. Through the driver's window, he saw a man with a long scar across the bridge of his nose, which even his face mask couldn't fully hide.

Seeing Sean looking, the scarred man actually whistled. Then, with a sharp yank of the steering wheel, he sideswiped them. Metal scraped against metal with a harsh screech, showering sparks into the dark.

The man raised a hand to his forehead, giving a mock salute that was pure provocation. The next second, he jerked his steering wheel away. Something the size of a quail egg sailed out of the SUV's window, landing directly in the path of Sean's car.

Then—pop! It exploded.

A second, a third, a fourth... A rapid succession of small, colorful, but low-yield charges popped right along their path, painting the asphalt with brief flashes of light.

"What the hell? What are they trying to do?"