Giichi Bushida looking like the handsome devil he is above.

TREVOR

All the publicity training in the world couldn't have prepared Trevor for the chaos that met them when they returned to the UK. Somehow paparazzi had caught wind of their trip and waited at the arrival hall for him as gossip-hungry fans speculated theories from an illicit affair between him and Kiara to another private celebrity wedding. It would only make matters worse when he arrived with not one, but two women. Thankfully, Diana was tactful enough to linger a safe distance behind when they walked out of the airport, trying to minimize the damage, as he and Alia moved ahead.

Shoving cameras in Alia's face, hoping to getting a rise out of Trevor, reporters jostled the couple, pushing and shoving against each other for a better angle. Many yelled intrusive questions while others shouted unnecessarily snide comments. He could see how each remark chipped away at the carefully curated unruffled exterior she wore so tried to redirect their attention.

One such reporter pried into his relationship with Kiara, attempting to aggravate him but he simply smiled tightly and stopped to state, "I've never really answered any questions about Kiara because I feel it would be improper."

Letting out a sarcastic chuckle, he sighed, "Our friendship has nothing to do with you. I will, however, say this... Kiara is very dear to me. She's like family and will always be so for me. No matter what happens, what she does, what people say of her– it's all insignificant to me. I will always be by her side supporting her."

Glaring pointedly at the reported who had the audacity to inappropriately imply otherwise, he concluded, "I will never answer private questions about Kiara. Let those answers remain with me."

Stroking his thumb back and forth across the sliver of exposed skin along Alia's back, Trevor gently guided her towards his car as the pair walked away. He made it a point not to address or refer to Alia, hoping to limit her exposure and redirect the media's attention to himself. Settling into the car, she rested her head against his shoulder as he tried his best not to grin like a fucking psychopath at the action.

She smiled, brushing her hand against his, "Thank you."

He frowned, "For what?"

"For taking on all the scrutiny. I know you saw me panicking."

"I will always be here for you. Don't you know by now, kanthari?"

Settling in their seats, he peered out the window to watch Diana step out of the airport and manipulate the crowd, "Fuck me, she's having way too much fun with this."

Photographers and reporters swarmed around Diana as she left the airport terminal, looking for the next scoop. Of course, the stubborn woman refused to wear anything but heels as she ambled over to the car with an infuriatingly coy smile plastered across her face.

Confident as ever, she held up her hands, "Alright, one at a time! I haven't done anything too outrageous for you to rave over yet."

Amused murmurs filtered around the crowd as a man stuck his microphone out, "Come on, Diana, are the scandalous rumours about Trevor and Kiara true?"

"It's only a scandal if you're running from it and you know that the Peoples' actress would lead the damn parade."

Another camera was pushed into her space, "How do you feel about someone with as much power as her taking a neutral stance on politics?"

"There are so many talented men and women that have dedicated their lives and careers to politics while I was reading Tolstoy and perfecting the art of horribly playing the piano."

Laughter rang around her as she continued, "If you're asking about the Frankfurter Buchmesse, I'm your girl. But politics? Not my strong suit."

Alia snickered at her best friend, leaning to whisper into Trevor's ear, "She was definitely made for this."

No one could deny that Diana was captivating and as much as Trevor despised her, even he had to admit she handled the press like a professional. For someone with such little experience in the public eye, that woman certainly was formidable under intense pressure.

This time a female reporter jabbed her microphone at Diana, "Kiara is often quite vocal about gender inequality, would you say you share her passion?"

Shooting the prying woman an unamused look, she smiled tightly, "I enjoy being a woman in a man's world–"

Cutting her off, one of the rowdier men shouted, "What are you wearing?"

"Thank you for letting me finish," she quipped sarcastically before answering; "Remember, boys, it's not the pretty dresses but the women wearing them that change the world."

She let her hard gaze linger on the louder reporters before pointedly making her way past them, "Now I'll let you watch me walk away. Which one of you handsome hunks will hold the door open for me?"

Men scrambled to get near Diana as she smiled sweetly at one of them– presumably the chosen one. The recipient of her attention awkwardly stumbled forward, hands fumbling as he tugged the car door open.

Trevor snorted at her, "Hurry up and get in the fucking car, demon."

Smiling viciously at him, she took her time stepping in, "Thought I'd give you time to finally get the girl but it looks like even my efforts can't help your game, Al Capone."

Alia patted him on the thigh while shooting her a warning look, "Calm down, both of you."

For fuck's sake, Diana was lucky Alia and Kiara loved her or he would've dumped her ass the minute she opened that garrulous mouth. Diana smirked at him knowingly, eyes flitting to the oblivious woman beside him. Unclenching his fist, he exhaled heavily and brushed his lips across Alia's head. He needed to calm down before he accidentally popped a vein from all the stress.

Ensuring both women were safely back in their respective homes, Trevor begrudgingly headed over to his law firm in preparation for the tedious meeting ahead. He was due to meet with Giichi as they finalised an agreement with the Koreans under the guise of a business contract. Mentally cataloguing a to-do list on the drive over, Trevor called Emma and patiently listened as she pointedly relayed his fully packed schedule for the day. He let the tension slowly seep back into his muscles, that mask slipping back onto his face provided that lonely security as he transitioned from carefree friend to ruthless businessman.

The minute he entered the building, Trevor was met by Prakash as two of his most trusted men moved to watch their backs. Though he exercised an intimidating predatory stillness as always, Trevor saw the way that frown softened as the slightest outline of his dimples made an appearance. He knew his closest friend and brother was glad to have him back.

As soon as Trevor stepped off the elevator, a flurry of papers and frantic instructions met him while Emma hurriedly shoved him in the direction of his office. Trust his neurotic secretary to plan everything to the last detail, from arranging the pile of dossiers on his desk in order of priority to having a fresh suit ready to go for the meeting. Leaving him with a parting reprimand for his late arrival, she impressively managed to strongarm his entire security team out of the office.

Huffing in mirth, Prakash mused, "Damn, she would make a great recruit for the security team."

Trevor snorted, "Yeah, you're telling me."

Ever the silent guard, Prakash turned away and situated himself close to the door as his keen eyes flitted around the room while listening cautiously to the commotion outside. Trevor quickly and efficiently switched from his rumpled travel clothes into the tailored suit while simultaneously going over the contract on his desk. Fitting his cufflinks and shrugging on the suit jacket, he waited leisurely as the tell-tale clicks of Oxford shoes moved past his office and towards the board room. Prakash looked at him incredulously as if to say 'really?'. Yes, really. Subtle acts of dominance were important to establish favourable power dynamics and no one knew how to manipulate a person better than Trevor. Just to spite Prakash, he held on a few seconds longer before finally moving out.

Emma stood guard outside the board room, voice wavering just a touch before she swung the door open, "Mr. Bushida is already inside."

There was always an air of cool authority about Giichi, a palpable sense of control that made those around him feel small and insignificant. Having already met him on numerous occasions, Trevor was familiar with the effect his intensity and piercing gaze had on people. Still, the fact that Giichi had managed to rattle the otherwise unshakeable woman surprised him. With a towering presence that seemed to fill the room, he stood with deliberate grace and approached to greet Trevor, each step measured and confident.

Extending his hand, the two men shook firmly as he gestured to the table, "Let's take a seat."

Gaze never wandering, Giichi nodded, a slight incline of his head, before following suit. Wearing a fitted turtleneck under a blazer that clung to his frame with precision, every detail of his appearance was immaculate. Something Trevor knew was a direct result of his painstaking attention to detail. Dyed platinum hair contrasted dark and inscrutable eyes that met his with a look that seemed to weigh and measure his worth in an instant.

Voice deep and smooth, Giichi enunciated each word with careful consideration, "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. This was a matter that required your utmost discretion and expertise."

There was a latent power in Trevor's silence, a suggestion that he was not a man to be trifled with– one that Giichi clearly took into account by the slight flicker of approval in his gaze.

Crossing one leg over the other, Trevor leaned back and smiled, "Of course. Should we wait for Mr. Kwon or is there something we should discuss beforehand?"

Not taking the bait, Giichi simply sniffed, "We wait."

Not soon after, the high-pitched tone of Emma's voice sounded as shuffling ensued outside, signalling the arrival of a new client. Kwon Ji-yong stood in the doorway, lean and broad-shouldered, with an aura that commanded immediate attention. Wrapped in a burgundy velvet suit, he looked every bit like the suave devil his notorious reputation claimed to be. Dark messily styled hair framed a face that was both soft and intimidating, his sharp features pulled back into a smirk as distinctly amber eyes scanned the room with an unsettling calm. There was something about the way he carried himself with a blend of quiet confidence and underlying menace that made Trevor instinctively wary.

Voice laced with an accent that added to his enigmatic charm, Ji-yong lazily drawled, "Trevor, heard you just landed. Are you sure you're not too tired for this meeting?"

Shocking Trevor with an uncharacteristically warm expression, the tips of Giichi's mouth tipped up, "Keeping tabs on my lawyer, Mr. Kwon?"

Viper-skin shoes clicked across the wooden floor as Ji-yong entered, "What can I say? Anyone you hold in high regard peaks my interest."

"Is that supposed to be a complement?"

"I wouldn't dream of meaning it any other way."

It would seem, Daiki was right to have his concerns. After the mysterious passing of Ji-yong's father, rumours of an assassination spurred inner strife but years later he had managed to rebuild his empire from the ground up, miraculously winning everyone over. As such, Trevor had no doubt the new Sajang* mastered a dangerous level of deceit. With the looks of a saint and the mind of a sinner, Ji-yong probably had his latest victim swooning right until he slit their throat. But regardless of Trevor's personal feelings about him, the man was alarmingly powerful and skilled in gathering unnervingly confidential counterintelligence. It was a vital talent, especially in the context of the criminal underworld, and was often wrongly undervalued.

Choosing the seat across Giichi, Ji-yong grinned widely and rested his elbows on the table. The action tugged his sleeves up to reveal pale skin littered with a multitude of small tattoos. Turning to face Trevor, he offered his hand and flashed a sultry smile– one that was likely damning to the right eyes but unnerving to him. A few tense seconds passed where Trevor debated his intentions.

Giichi angled himself closer and mused, "A formality."

Acquiescing the formality, Trevor glanced over at Giichi with an imperceptible frown marring his composed demeanour. Years of working together made it so they had a knack for quieting one another's concerns with nothing more than a twitch of the finger. Much less emotional depth than Trevor's friendship with Daiki but a meaningful professional relationship, nevertheless.

Eyes lingering over Giichi with what looked like a strange combination of affection and ire, Ji-yong shrugged, "Let the games begin." 

As a seasoned lawyer, Trevor had brokered an array of deals in various settings but this time there was a peculiar tension as if an electric undercurrent buzzed just below the surface of the polished mahogany table. Clearing his throat, he tried to focus on the stack of papers before him as Ji-yong and Giichi stared each other down in some sort of Mexican standoff, their eyes locked in a secret intimate battle. Nearly an hour had gone by and Trevor's patience was growing thin as neither one deigned to agree on the terms of a contract yet.

Slouching in his chair, Ji-yong was the picture of casual menace as he exuded cocky ease. His fingers tapped a slow controlled rhythm on the armrest but those cat-like eyes never left Giichi, who mirrored his posture with an almost defiant ease. Though his demeanour was just as poised, there was a softness in his gaze– a vulnerability that betrayed the mask of ruthless efficiency he wore.

"Alright, gentlemen," Trevor began, his voice struggling to remain steady; "I'll reiterate the conditions one last time."

Ji-yong's lips curled into a smirk, "You should probably speed it up, counsellor. We don't have all day."

Giichi's gaze flickered to Trevor almost apologetically, knowing full well that he had no part in causing the delay, "Yes, I have a rather busy schedule and don't particularly enjoy waiting."

There was a brief loaded pause where Trevor could feel the weight of unsaid words hanging in the air, a silent conversation that he wasn't privy to but could almost sense. It was abundantly clear that Ji-yong and Giichi's relationship, whatever it truly was, went beyond business. This was something beyond the blood and the violence that defined their world.

Minding his own business, Trevor shuffled through the papers for the sections requiring their signatures, "This clause here," he said, pointing to the document; "ensures both territories remain undisturbed while business is shared."

Ji-yong nodded, his eyes still fixed on Giichi, "That means no encroachments or provocations!"

His lips twitched, a shadow of a smile, "Wouldn't dream of it."

Trevor cleared his throat again, trying to dispel the strange tension, "And here, we have the profit-sharing agreement. Seventy-thirty, as discussed."

"Seventy-thirty," Ji-yong repeated, his tone almost wistful, "Always asking for too much."

Giichi's gaze softened, a fleeting expression that passed too quickly, "Always," he echoed, a hint of longing in his voice.

They signed the papers with the same methodical slowness, their eyes never leaving each other. Each stroke of the pen seemed to carry a deeper significance, a vow that transcended the ink and paper. As Trevor collected the signed documents, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something. The deal was done and the terms agreed upon but as the two men shook hands, he saw the briefest touch linger between them like a promise in the guise of a business transaction. They walked out of his office side by side, their shoulders brushing in a way that spoke of unspoken commitments and secret nights.

Releasing a tired sigh, Trevor sat back in his chair as the echoes of their presence lingered in the room. While he suspected Daiki had an idea of what was going on, he decided against alerting his best friend out of respect. Call it professional courtesy. In this world of shadows and blood, love was a dangerous game. But for Giichi and Ji-yong, it seemed to be the only game worth playing.

*Sajang: Korean term meaning chief or president