His black, raven hair stood with strands of Grey from the side of his hair. Denim King, just as sophisticated as his name spelled, ran a steady finger through. Applying his favourite cologne, Replica by the fireplace.

Denim owned several oil companies in California and its environs. Though he was over 6 feet tall and had 250 lbs of muscle, one could have mistaken him for a man in his late 50s who was blessed with youthful looks.

Men hardly gaze through the mirror. Denim was no exception, but this time, he was. His eyes darted at the transparent glass in self-admiration. Carefully arranging his silky hair to the back. His perfectly long fingers brushed through his thick, black eyebrows, watching his reflection over the full-length wall mirror once again. Denim pulled out a black suit from his wardrobe, placing it over his black turtle-neck sweater. A warm smile rippled on his defined cupid’s bowed lips which stood in a Grey garden of clean shaved beard. He adjusted the suit, fitted on his shoulders as his hand tapped the dressing table in front of him, fixing a golden ring on his middle finger and a Patek Phillippe wristwatch. Again, Denim’s hands touched the table front and his brows frowned as if something was amiss. Denim’s hazel eyes flashed to the table at once.

He opened his drawer, and it wasn’t there.

‘They were here a minute ago!’ He thought dryly.

His eyebrows knotted in a uni-brow, knowing who exactly was up to the task. “Jack!”

Denim stormed at once as he hurried out of his room. It was a vast mansion. It took a while before he got downstairs. They fit the entire apartment out with quality clothes, all glassy and marbled. They made the floor and ceiling of marble while the walls were mostly of glass. Bay windows made of darker glass with white leather cushions and throw pillows gave the space an attractive look.

On the sofa, two other guys, with similar charms as Denim, were watching the photography of a new model they had an eye for. The blonde-haired lady with baby-blue eyes was naked on his laptop screen.

“Holly told me last night that I should give her an address. She desperately wants to meet up.”

“What? Are you bringing her over?”

“And why would I do that?”

“We could do a trio, you know?” Asher suggested with a firm smirk.

“Not interested in sharing my cake. Find yours!” Jack hissed in reply as Asher busted out into a light chuckle.

“I’m sure you’ll dump her the minute you-“

“Jack!” Demin cut into the conversation without holding back.

They both turned and saw him, enraged.

“Where are my cufflinks?” Denim snapped.

Jack’s eyes hardened as he stared back. “What cufflinks? Are you saying that I can’t get mine?” Jack raised grimly and then hissed. He diverted his gaze back to the laptop screen as if it were more important. Before Jack could pull back his hand from the laptop, Denim grabbed his hands and pulled out his cufflinks. They were Montblanc cufflinks, made of raw gold.

“What did you just do?” Jack raised a firm brow.

“What did I just do? I took what is mine!” Demin jeered heatedly. His unblinking eyes focused on his friend with a raised chin.

“You should have been gentle!”

“Gentle how? Do you have to go to my room?”

“He found the cufflinks here.” Asher tried explaining while Jack stood up at Denim.

“He found what here? Does that mean he has to fucking put them on?” Denim directed his words to Asher.

“You lack manners!” Jack snapped once again with a dagger look. Making them look like two lions ready to fight.

“Hey guys, we have a wedding to attend. It’s already 8:00 a.m.” Asher intervened, but they paid deaf ears to him.

“You better don’t repeat that to me, okay? I don’t like it!” Denim spat.

“Apologize if you don’t want me to disgrace you at this wedding. Even if it’s yours, you have no right to snatch anything from me.” Jack warned.

“What if I don’t?” Denim took a step closer, his eyes burning in fury.

“You only have ten seconds to apologize to me!” Jack held his ground as if it meant nothing.

“I won’t!” Denim fired, more pissed than earlier.

“I order you to apologize, do it!” Jack hit Denim hard on the chest.

This made him purse his lips and clench his fist into a tight ball. Trying as hard as he might, Denim could not contain himself. Within seconds, he erupted like a volcano.

At once, his hand reached to the back of his pocket, bringing out a gun and pointing it at Jack. Jack drew out his gun too, ready to pull the trigger. Their muscles gripped the gun, tight.

They stood glaring at each other when Asher tore them apart. It took him an effort.

“Come on guys, easy man! A moment ago we were happy. What happened to the joy of attending Felicia’s wedding? I thought we agreed that no guns?”

The both of them withdrew from pointing their guns, throwing them on the table.

Jack’s voice came low as pain clouded his dark eyes. “You should apologize for disrupting me.”

“Asher, let’s get out of here.”

“Are you just being stubborn or what?”

“Say whatever you want to me and I won’t apologize!”

“You were rude, Denim... Apologize!” Jack stood his ground.

Asher sighed, watching Denim’s Hazel eyes glittering in anger. “Apologize, Denim.”

He took a while to process what had just happened. “Alright then, I’m... Sorry.” Denim fiercely scowled, clenching on his jaw.

Jack grabbed his jacket from the arm of the sofa.

“The cufflinks aren’t better than mine. You should have let me wear them, but your pride won’t let you.” He hissed and walked out with raised eyebrows.

Rushing out, Jack jumped into his black Mercedes and awaited them.

“Did you see that?” Denim raised, still baffled.

“Yeah, I saw it,” Asher replied with a little smile.

“You know he’s at fault, right? He took my new cufflinks without my permission!” Denim took deep breaths, his cheek slightly red.

“Yeah, Denim, I know Jack is at fault. To err is human, to forgive is divine. Forgiveness is for the strong, and this proves that you’re mature and understanding. Jack is just a kid, after all. Let’s go.” Asher tapped Denim on the shoulder while he chewed on his lower lip.

“Come on, let’s go. We’re an hour late.” Asher pressed while Denim nodded in understanding as they stepped out.

Slowly walking outside before Asher, Denim’s head was down and quiet in resignation. Opening the huge wooden door, his hazel eyes gawked at Jack in his car. While a mysterious smirk covered his lips, he rolled his eyes inwards nodding negatively. Denim couldn’t believe that Jack was planning to go in his car despite their agreement. Guilt pinched in his eyes as he watched Denim step into his beetle-like Grand Cherokee Jeep.

Asher watched him in the same manner and strolled to Denim.

“Look bro, I’ll be right back,” Asher told him while he closed his jeep’s door.

Asher, Jack, and Denim are very wealthy business partners, though, they are also involved in dirty businesses such as organized crime, drug trafficking, money laundering, prostitution, arms dealing, and counterfeiting.

The Three Friends, commonly known as the Three Musketeers back in the day, were school bad boys. They keep a low profile and set their common goal by living a very private life together unlike other bachelors their age. They were more like brothers, best friends, enemies, roommates, and business partners.

The Three Musketeers, own and run their own companies and live a life of luxury together since none of them had ever thought about settling down with any woman. At least, things go sensible and better when they live together in one mansion, knowing that eventually, a force would have to tear them apart.

As it is, Jack, Denim, and Asher have been friends forever. It all started when they joined the bad boy group in high school. The naughty and easily punished. The daring, rude and the unforgiving. People easily tagged them as the three musketeers, but life right now differed from when they were still boys. Even twins over the years develop distinct personalities and lifestyles. In the same vein, the three musketeers get into arguments once in a while and settle their differences.

Asher rushed to Jack’s car and lightly tapped on his tinted windows. He reminded it at once, exposing his rugged face.

“Jack, come on. We are to go in his car!” Asher gave a rough mumble in his throat and heaved out a sigh. “Stop acting mad, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll join you,” Jack mumbled.

“You easily get angry,” Asher added while Jack winded up his car windows and grabbed his black suit at hand. Sliding out, he locked it and the both of them ventured into Denim’s Jeep. Knowing that Jack was still furious, Asher wore a wistful smirk before opening the door.

“If you forgave him, then why the attitude?”

As they slid into the sleek, lathered seats, Denim and Asher fixed their seat belts.

The men had striking black, almond-shaped eyes, long lashes, and groomed brows, except for Denim, whose eyes were hazel. The exact color is between blue and green.

Jack fiercely scowled, clenching his jaw, avoiding gazing at Denim, but Denim watched him throw the rare-view mirror and quickly turned away with a sour expression.

Denim cracked his knuckles with narrowed eyes and crossed arms while Asher adjusted his neat, spiky haircut. After a moment of awkward silence and weird glances, Denim turned on the car engines. It roared out into the completely silent morning while he revised out of the wide compound. It was an implicit drive until they got to the reception.