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A WEB OF LIES AND LOYALTY

A WEB OF LIES AND LOYALTY

Ian’s POV

I remembered nothing, nothing at all about how Kagar kidnapped me or where he hid me. It was probably a shop with an underground garage. He did his best in kidnapping and hiding me, and the marks he left on me were top-notch work. Yet, there was something profoundly unsettling about having no memory of the event itself, a fog that wrapped itself tightly around my mind. My body bore the evidence, though the bruises, the scars, and the constant, dull ache. Every mark was real, each pain a constant reminder of my plan. A plan that, now in hindsight, felt like it was spiraling far beyond my control.

You might be wondering if I forgot everything, like the doctor said, how could I remember any of this? Well, here’s the story:

MANY YEARS AGO

I had two loving parents and an older brother, Ben. We weren’t just a family; we were a team. Ben and I used to fight every day, not with hatred, but with the intensity of two warriors honing their skills. He never treated me as the younger one, and I never looked up to him as the elder. There were no hierarchies between us. We fought for everything, control of the TV, the last piece of cake, even the front seat in the car. It was as if we were equals in everything, which somehow made us closer. My father, a police officer, was always proud of how we protected each other despite our constant bickering. My mother, a homemaker, was the glue that held us together. Our little skirmishes were her entertainment, the rhythm of our household’s daily life.

Life was perfect, or at least, it felt that way. And then, in a cruel twist of fate, everything changed. My parents died in a car accident, leaving Ben and me alone in a world that suddenly felt too big, too empty. I told Masimo the story of their death, but I left out one crucial detail I knew exactly who killed them. Ben and I both did. That was the reason for everything that followed, the motivation for the path we both chose.

The Day of Reckoning

I still remember the coldness in Ben’s eyes that day, the day we decided to take matters into our own hands. We knew the man responsible for our parents' deaths an unrepentant criminal. Ben shot him without hesitation, his hand steady, his expression unreadable. As much as I hated what we had become, I understood why he did it. It wasn’t just revenge, it was justice, a justice we couldn’t trust the system to deliver.

The plan to infiltrate Masimo’s life was born out of necessity. I was the perfect candidate an unsuspecting doctor, someone who could get close to Masimo without raising suspicion. We carefully orchestrated every detail. I was going to replace another doctor under false pretenses, find evidence, anything that would bring Masimo down. We needed something substantial, something that would force the authorities to investigate his empire. Everything was going according to plan until I entered that room by mistake, a mistake that changed everything.

When the marriage was proposed, I thought it was a blessing in disguise. It would give me more access to Masimo’s world, allow me to gather information that could finally put him behind bars. I passed small bits of information to Ben some useful, most not. But it was something. It kept our mission alive. What I didn’t expect was how much Masimo would start to trust me, how that trust would slowly chip away at my resolve.

Then there was Kagar, Masimo’s sworn enemy. The saying "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" held true in our case. Ben and I decided that aligning with Kagar would strengthen our position. We ran background checks on him, and while I didn’t fully trust him, I knew his hatred for Masimo would keep him on our side. Ben was the one in constant contact with Kagar, not me. It was too risky for me to be directly involved in case Masimo ever found out. The whole situation made my stomach churn. I hated myself for being part of it. But revenge has a way of warping even the best intentions.

The Kidnapping Plan

The idea of faking my kidnapping came to me while watching some mindless drama on TV. The protagonist had been kidnapped, and it made me think, what would Masimo do if I were taken? Despite the fact that I was only pretending to be his willing partner, I knew he cared about me. Maybe not in the way a man loves his spouse, but in a way that mattered. He cared enough about his clan, about his reputation, to make sure no harm came to me. That’s when I reached out to Kagar. Masimo’s distraction would be our opportunity, a window for Ben to gather information.

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I never anticipated how real the bruises and scars would feel. Kagar did his job too well. But it worked. While Masimo was searching for me, Ben was able to sneak into his office three times. He found critical information, enough to begin building our case. Masimo was distracted, and that was all we needed. But now, as I sat there nursing my wounds, I wondered if it was worth it.

NOW BACK TO THE PRESENT

"Hi. How’s your head?" Masimo’s voice was soft, a rare tenderness slipping through his usual tough exterior. His hand reached for mine, helping me sit up in the late afternoon light. The dull ache in my body made me wince. Though the kidnapping had been staged, the injuries were all too real.

"Ugh, it hurts like hell," I groaned, pressing a hand to my temple. And then it hit me, I’d just let a curse slip in front of Masimo. Panic shot through me like a bolt of electricity. His punishments for disobedience were swift and often painful.

"It’s okay," he said, surprising me. His voice was gentle but carried an edge of warning. "I’ll cut you some slack since you’re injured, but don’t let it happen again. It would be good for you to remember that."

I swallowed hard, fear crawling up my spine. Masimo was terrifying in ways that no one else could ever be. Not even Kagar, with all his ruthlessness, made my heart race like this. And yet, beneath that fear, there was something else. A part of me, a tiny, traitorous part, was starting to care for him. How could I explain it? How could I possibly reconcile the hate I felt with the growing warmth in my chest?

"Sorry," I mumbled, trying to shift the conversation. "It just hurts a lot."

Masimo didn’t reply at first. Instead, he placed a small table over my legs, setting a tray full of fruits and a bowl of some unappetizing white soup in front of me. My hand was still wrapped in a bandage from the earlier scuffle, making it difficult to move without pain. He noticed, his sharp eyes narrowing before ordering everyone to leave the room.

As the door closed behind them, the silence stretched between us like a taut string ready to snap. But instead of the reprimand I expected, Masimo did something that caught me off guard. He picked up the spoon, dipped it into the bowl, and brought it to my lips.

“Eat,” he said. “It’ll help heal your injuries faster.”

I stared at him, the taste of the bland soup coating my tongue. It was awful, and I gagged involuntarily. “What is this? Are you trying to kill me? If you’re going to poison me, at least mix it with something tastier, like noodles.”

Masimo’s response was swift. His lips were on mine in a soft, gentle kiss, a stark contrast to his usual dominating presence. It lasted only a moment, but it left me stunned, my heart racing. When he pulled back, he chuckled softly.

“You’ll eat it because it’s healthy,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “It’ll help those scars heal.”

My face burned red with embarrassment, my cheeks hot under his gaze. I couldn’t believe the effect he had on me. What was wrong with me?

“Fine,” I muttered, coughing to cover my embarrassment. “I’ll eat it.”

He fed me, spoonful by spoonful, each moment of quiet intimacy unraveling the walls I had built to protect myself. We even laughed, a genuine, shared moment of peace amidst the chaos of our lives. I didn’t feel uncomfortable anymore. In fact, I felt something deeper than comfort. Something I couldn’t afford to acknowledge.

After a while, Masimo stood up, calling out orders for the workers to bring something new. He was intent on pampering me, and it left me feeling strangely warm inside. When he finally returned, he placed a plate of organic chips and a drink that looked suspiciously like pig slop next to me.

“I know what I need to do next,” he said, rummaging through the drawers aggressively. Finally, he found what he was looking for the remote. He clicked it, turning on my favorite TV show. For a second, I was floored. How did he know?

He turned to me, lifting my chin with a gentleness that melted my heart. His thumb caressed my cheek, and then, in a moment I’ll never forget, he kissed my forehead.

"You watch this," he said. "Whenever you feel sleepy, just turn it off and get some rest. Oh, and make sure to finish the drink, it’s herbal. It’ll—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," I interrupted, rolling my eyes playfully. "It’ll heal.

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