Dangerously Yours

Let You Bleed To Death

The Obsidian was one of the most exclusive bars in the city, owned by Vale Enterprises and frequented by the wealthy and powerful. It was the kind of place where simply getting through the doors meant you belonged to a certain class.

Outside, a black Lamborghini pulled up in front of the entrance.

The driver’s door opened, and a man stepped out.

He was the kind of handsome that made people look twice without him even trying. Sharp features, a strong jaw, and dark hair complemented his striking appearance. His presence alone commanded attention, but the coldness radiating from him made most people think twice before approaching.

He walked toward the entrance without sparing anyone a glance.

The moment the employees noticed him, they immediately bowed their heads.

“Good evening, Mr. Vale.”

He gave them a slight nod before continuing inside.

Adrian Vale.

To the outside world, he was the wealthy CEO of Vale Enterprises and one of the most eligible bachelors in Country S.

To the underworld, he was Venom, the feared leader of Black Fang.

He didn’t bother stopping at the main bar. Instead, he headed straight toward a private elevator that required special access. It led to a secluded room reserved exclusively for him and a handful of people he trusted.

The elevator doors closed, carrying him to the upper floor.

As soon as he stepped into the private room, an apple came flying toward his face.

Without even flinching, he caught it.

His eyes shifted toward the man lounging on the sofa.

“You’re late, Adrian. I almost died of boredom waiting for you.”

Adrian stared at him. “That’s a dramatic way to say you missed me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Damien Cross snatched the apple from Adrian’s hand and took a bite.

Adrian chuckled as he walked toward the opposite sofa. He sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and settled back as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

“I’m only thirty minutes late. I had a few things to handle in the organization.”

Damien stopped chewing. “What things?”

Adrian glanced at him.

“And why wasn’t I informed?” Damien continued, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “I know you did this on purpose so you could have all the fun without me. Humph!”

Adrian raised an eyebrow. “You’re curious?”

“Of course”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

A smirk slowly appeared on Adrian’s face. “Call me big brother, and I’ll tell you.”

Damien stared at him in disbelief. Then he waved a dismissive hand. “Forget it. I’m no longer interested.”

Adrian held his expression for another second before bursting into laughter.

Some things never changed.

Damien Cross had been his childhood friend for as long as either of them could remember. They had grown up together, fought together, and gotten each other into more trouble than either cared to admit.

Even as adults, their relationship remained much the same. Beneath Adrian’s intimidating reputation and Damien’s polished public image were two men who had never quite outgrown their habit of teasing each other.

Damien came from a wealthy family, but unlike many heirs born into privilege, he had never been interested in working for his father or taking over the family business. He preferred to build a life of his own.

To the public, Damien was a respected cardiothoracic surgeon renowned for his exceptional surgical skills. He was also a talented hacker, though his abilities fell short of those of Hacker C, the mysterious hacker whose reputation had spread throughout Country S.

He was a shareholder in Vale Enterprises, too. His investments occasionally brought him to the company, while his technical expertise made him useful whenever a serious cybersecurity problem arose.

But those were only parts of his life.

Damien was one of the few people who could speak to Adrian without worrying about his position or reputation. He knew when to tease him, when to challenge him, and—more importantly—when something was seriously wrong.

That last part was why his smile faded when he noticed the tension in Adrian’s expression.

“Now, are you going to tell me what happened at the organization, or do I have to beg?”

Adrian gave him an amused look. “Begging might be entertaining.”

“Adrian!”

“Fine.”

With a small laugh, Adrian began recounting what had happened earlier at the organization. The more he explained, the more Damien’s playful expression faded.

By the time Adrian finished, Damien was no longer smiling.

He leaned forward, his gaze fixed on him. “So, you shot him?”

Adrian nodded, his expression serious.

Damien studied his face briefly before leaning back against the couch.

“Well, he deserved it.”

Adrian didn’t respond. His gaze drifted towards the glass on the table, his expression giving nothing away.

Damien let out a quiet sigh.

“You should have told me earlier,” he said. “Something like that happens, and I have to find out from you afterward?”

“I handled it.”

“That’s not the point.” Damien’s brows drew together. “What if something had gone wrong? Just because you’re good at fighting doesn’t mean you should keep putting yourself in danger without telling anyone.”

Adrian reached for the glass on the table.

Damien pointed at him accusingly.

“One day, I’m going to stop treating your wounds and let you bleed to death.”

Adrian paused. Then he laughed. “That’s a comforting thought coming from a surgeon.”

“I’m serious!”

“So am I.”

Damien glared at him.

Adrian took a sip of his drink before continuing. “I didn’t want to disturb you. It’s your first proper break from the hospital in a while.”

Damien let out a long, suffering sigh. “Don’t remind me. It’s only two days, and then I’m back at the hospital.”

He slumped against the sofa. “Honestly, I don’t know why I thought taking leave would be fun.”

Adrian glanced at him.

“Because you wanted a break?”

“Exactly. And what do I get? I spend my first day waiting for you to show up late and tell me about another dangerous situation.”

“You could have gone home.”

Damien immediately straightened. “Nope.”

Adrian stared at him.

Damien took another bite of his apple. “I suddenly love my holiday.”

Adrian shook his head, laughing quietly.

For a while, the conversation drifted away from the organization. They talked about work, teased each other about their respective lifestyles, and occasionally returned to the day’s events.

Eventually, Adrian checked the time and rose from his seat.

Damien looked up at him in disbelief. “You’re leaving already?”

“I have work to do.”

“Work?” Damien repeated. “You’ve been working all day!”

“And I’ll continue working.”

“You are unbelievable.” Damien reached for his glass. “Don’t go yet. Let’s have a few more drinks to celebrate my two days off.”

Adrian glanced at him. “You’re already drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Of course not.”

Damien narrowed his eyes. “You’re just jealous because I know how to enjoy life.”

Adrian picked up his jacket. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Damien watched him head toward the door before scoffing. “Workaholic! That’s why you’re still single.”

Adrian stopped and looked over his shoulder. “We’re both single, dummy.”

“At least I have a life.”

“And yet you’re spending your holiday drinking with me.”

Damien opened his mouth. Then closed it.

Adrian grinned. “Thought so.”

“Get out!”

Laughing, Adrian stepped through the door.

Despite the drinks he’d consumed, his movements remained steady and his eyes clear. He had never been one to let alcohol cloud his judgment, and he certainly didn’t need someone holding his hand to find his way to his car.

He took the elevator down and walked through the bar toward the exit.

The employees greeted him respectfully as he passed.

He barely acknowledged them.

A few minutes later, he stepped outside and headed toward his Lamborghini.

Then he stopped.

Something was wrong.

Two of his tires were completely flat.

Adrian stared at the car for a moment before crouching beside one of the damaged tires.

A small nail had been driven deep into the rubber. He examined it, his expression slowly hardening. This wasn’t an accident.

Someone had deliberately punctured his tires. He rose to his feet and surveyed the parking area.

There was no obvious sign of anyone nearby. Then something caught his attention. Another nail lay a few feet away.

Adrian walked toward it.

A third nail rested farther ahead.

Then a fourth.

He followed the trail with his eyes until he saw where it led. A narrow alley beside the building.

For several seconds, he stood perfectly still. Then the corner of his mouth lifted.

“Interesting.”

Someone had gone through the trouble of damaging his car and leaving behind a trail for him to follow.

Either they were incredibly confident or incredibly stupid. Perhaps both.

Adrian glanced back at his Lamborghini.

He could call his driver. He could ask security to investigate. He could even have someone check the alley before he went anywhere near it.

Any sensible person would have done at least one of those things.

But Adrian wasn’t particularly interested in doing what a sensible person would do. Besides, whoever had arranged this clearly wanted his attention.

He was curious and bored.

With a faint smirk, he slipped his hands into his pockets and followed the trail.

The farther he walked, the quieter the surroundings became. The music from The Obsidian faded behind him, replaced by the distant hum of traffic.

The alley was narrow, its walls casting deep shadows beneath the dim lights.

Adrian slowed as he approached the entrance. He scanned the area.

Nothing.

No movement.

No voices.

Just the faint glint of another nail lying near the wall.

He stepped into the alley. A sharp whistle cut through the silence. Something came flying toward his head.

A knife.

Adrian’s eyes narrowed. He tilted his head just in time.

The blade sliced past his face and struck the wall behind him with a metallic clang.

For a moment, he didn’t move. Then he slowly turned toward the knife embedded in the wall.

He stared at it. A quiet sigh escaped his lips.

First an apple. Now a knife.

His gaze shifted toward the other end of the alley.

“Is throwing things at people a new trend of greeting.”

A figure stood several feet away, dressed entirely in black. A hood concealed their hair and most of their face, while a mask hid everything except their eyes.

Ocean-blue eyes.

The moment Adrian saw them, something inside him stirred.

Something about those eyes was familiar.

His gaze sharpened as he tried to place the memory.

The figure didn’t give him any chance before the figure charged towards him.

And just like that, the fight began.