"Yo Trish! You need some more help up there?"

That must have been the twentieth time she's heard that exact same phrase with that exact same annoying voice that day. One might get used to it after the first couple times, but Trish could never get around Maurice's patronizing jabs and lousy attempts to suck up to her. With Mac gone, he wanted to be her dad's new right-hand man, so he had to work extra-hard to please his boss. That included smothering the boss's beloved daughter, much to Trish's displeasure. She was quite ready to kick him and the rest of his lame posse to the curb at this point. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to see them for a while after today.

Packing the rest of the childhood memorabilia she wanted to bring back to her apartment, Trish leaned over to her bedroom door. "Worry about your own business!"

"Oh, my bad princess!" He yelled back from downstairs. "Sorry for trying to be a gentleman. Didn't know you were into jackasses!"

"Didn't know you liked sticking your head up other people's cheeks so much, but I guess we learn something new everyday!"

"You think you're so funny, huh? You can't go two seconds without acting like a spoiled, ungrateful little-"

"You better be loading my stuff into the van right now, otherwise I'll have a few choice words about you with daddy."

After a string of muttered curses, Maurice went silent as his footsteps trailed off.

Trish rolled her eyes. He was always giving her attitude as if she wasn't able to destroy his whole career with a few sentences and a pout. Besides, she had to be built hard in order to survive in her father's world. Many people would think she's spoiled and privileged, but just like her old man, she had to work hard to get what she wanted and especially to keep it. Even though she would never go to the lengths her dad went, she always had to be able to show her ruthlessness and determination to reach her goals. If she came across as a princess, then so be it.

Trish had always disapproved of her father's "career choice", even if it had helped her and her brother to go to college. Where he saw opportunities to expand his influence, she only saw violence and deceit. Even then, she never knew the details of his doings, but it remained sinister enough for her to strongly show distain towards her dad's decisions. While she tried her best to stay away from her dad's "business", she knew that it would always be connected to her and her family. Letting her guard down would be too dangerous, she would surely pay the price for it, like Colin...

Her hands fumbled as she reached for the framed family picture that was sitting on her bedside table. In it, her father was holding her then five-year-old self's hand as her big brother Colin cuddled next to their mother. They stood in front of a blue lake, dressed all ready for a day of fishing, all smiling.

Trish gasped quietly as she held back tears. She remembered those times so vividly, back when everything seemed so simpler, when her dad looked happier, when her mom and her brother were alive. Even though Colin's was more recent, their deaths were still both fresh in Trish's mind and heart.

Some days were better than others. If either were brought up, Trish usually did her best to speak of them with positive memories and funny stories they had shared together. But when she was left all alone with her thoughts for too long, the hurt would come back. She didn't have that much time to grieve her brother due to having been highly endangered by her father's activities. His absence seemed to only get stronger the more she thought of him...

Suddenly, a series of loud knocks on her patio door pulled Trish out of her thoughts. She almost dropped the family picture before safely putting it on top of her box.

Slightly startled, she made her way to the door and pushed back its curtains to see who was through the glass.

To her relief, she quickly recognized the smiling face that waved excitedly at her.

"You need to stop doing that," Trish said as she let her visitor in.

"I missed you, baby," he grinned, making her scoff smilingly.

"You could've waited for me at my place, Han."

"Nah, the chubby guy and his friends would be there. They whack."

"You ain't all that either, playa," Trish teased as she tightly hugged her partner-in-crime.

Their relationship had had an extremely eventful start, being from rival gang families and all. After his dad's death, Han had been very busy sorting out all of what his father had left behind and taking care of his late brother's possessions. Not to mention he was still a fugitive from China, the authorities were undoubtedly looking for him as they spoke. Yet, instead of hiding out in fear of getting caught and sent back to prison in Hong Kong, Han kept a positive attitude and maintained his icy determination to put an end to his father's affairs for good.

"Well then," Trish kept her arms wrapped around Han's neck, "since you're here, you can help load up the rest of my stuff."

He groaned in protest. "I've been working all day! I'm tired, let's just go out."

"You're not the only one working! I've been running a whole shop here! We're even thinking about expanding so that the kids in the poorer neighborhoods can have easier access to our clothes."

"So you could use a break too!"

"Not until I finish handling my business, now!"

"We could go to the park, I'll buy your favorite ice cream...?"

"Less talking and more lifting, smart guy."

Sighing in defeat, Han grabbed the last box left in Trish's room. She swiftly grabbed the framed family portrait on top before heading downstairs, Han carefully following behind.

Leaving her childhood house once again didn't make Trish as emotional as she thought she would be. Instead, an overwhelming feeling of relief calmed her nerves. Things would be different this time around; her boutique Serpentine Fire wouldn't be endangered by her father's business anymore, shady gangsters wouldn't breathe down her neck anymore and now, she had Han, and no one could come between them.

"Oh hell nah!"

Well, almost no one.

"Calm down, big guy," Trish shoved past Maurice and two of her dad's other henchmen, Tre and Sean, as they fumed at the sight of Han coming down the stairs.

Of course, this displeased him even more. "Nuh-huh! It's hard enough to deal with your ass, I'm not dealing with Dim Sum over here on top of it!"

"Great! We do not want to deal with your ass either!" Han smiled mischievously at him, further angering him and his crew.

"Don't make me come up here and whoop you 'cause I will!" Maurice pointed at him.

"Oh no, I'm so scared!" Han mocked him.

"If you both don't quit it, I'll whoop the both of y'all!" Trish yelled from in front of the house.

Maurice frowned at Han, mouthing 'I'm watching you' as he walked away. Tre adjusted his red silk durag and spat at Han's feet while Sean nudged him to follow their friend.

Across the street from the house, Trish added her precious family picture in one of the boxes containing more of her personal belongings in her Mercedes' trunk. She didn't want items like her Prince poster or the outfit she'd worn on her first date to be mixed up in Maurice's possession, even if it was only temporarily. If it were up to her, she would've moved by herself, making a few trips with her own car to bring everything to  her apartment. Still, her dad wanted his own men to help and protect her. As if she couldn't fend for herself...

Climbing onto the driver's seat, Trish adjusted her rear-view mirror, spotting Han as he approached the car still carrying her box with a cheeky smile plastered on his lips. Placing his cargo in the backseat of the Mercedes, Han then took his place in the passenger's seat. With the start of the ignition and the purr of the engine, they were off to Trish's apartment.

They hadn't been out for a drive together in quite some time, so much had kept them busy in the last month. While the pair enjoyed being in each other's company, there was still a certain ambiguity about their relationship. It was obvious that they liked one another and that there was a chemistry between the two, but time had not allowed that spark to burst into a full-fledged flame yet. Plus, they hadn't been on an official date either, for now at least. Hopefully, that would change soon.

Han glanced at Trish, trying to be subtle. Her long curly black hair moved with the wind that blew from outside her window. She rocked her white bandana and while she was dressed pretty casually with a grey tank top and white sweatpants, she looked gorgeous. Her effortless confidence and swag had always appealed Han from the moment they first met.

His life had been based on survival since his childhood, so that didn't leave a lot of time for romance. Knowing that Trish was experienced in the matter made Han a little nervous about being able to be a good potential boyfriend to her. To him, it was a whole new unexplored world, but he wanted to put whatever effort it took to be with Trish. She was definitely worth it.

It didn't take long for Trish to notice Han's terrible attempt at discretely staring at her. He was good at fighting, but could brush up on his flirting a bit.

"You better tell me if I look crazy right now," Trish smirked, giving him a side-glance.

"No, no! You look great," Han answered, slightly flustered.

"You're a big softy, you know that?"

"What? Could a softy escape from one of the most secured prisons in Hong Kong?"

"Maybe, I don't know. I'm not the criminal here."

"Ah, then I'm just too bad for you. You can't handle me."

"Please, try handling every day with the men my dad keeps around. Trust me, I've seen it all."

They soon arrived at her apartment building, Trish entered its parking lot to park at her usual spot. The familiarity of the area was enough to brighten up her spirits, cementing the sense that everything was going back to normal and that the danger was over.

Trish stopped the engine. "Okay, let's unpack what we have at the moment and head in. Sean, Tre and Maurice will be here with the rest of my stuff soon."

Han nodded and together they got out of the car and made their way back to the trunk. Opening it, each took one box to start with.

"You have a lot of stuff for someone living alone," Han teased as they started to walk towards the building.

"What can I say? I love my materials," Trish playfully bumped his hip.

They briefly stopped in their tracks and found themselves staring at each other, very unsubtly this time.

Trish looked down at her box. "But for real though, thanks Han. You're always there when I need-"

Her sentence was cut off with her apartment building suddenly exploding right before them, blasting the pair to the ground.

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