"Fuck," Zhang said under his breath as he lowered his head because now he understood what Chen had told him about the brat.
"We can totally do that once you two stop acting like cowards," Yìchén said.
"You're a child playing a dangerous game. Go do your homework or something, Yìchén," Zhang said.
Yìchén lifted his chin and stepped up to the guard. "You forget that you work for me. You don't get to give me commands."
Zhang grabbed Yìchén's chin, palming him in a way that made it impossible for the younger man to break free. "Your father gave explicit orders to keep you under control after your last adventure. So when I tell you to go back inside and find something to do, I speak with your father's authority, boy. Obey."
Before Yìchén could think of a comeback, Zhang let go of his chin, then gripped the back of his neck and walked him briskly back into the house. With a little shove, he sent him in the direction of the staircase. Yìchén turned around, glaring incredulously at Zhang, but words were caught in his throat because he was aroused in the same way he got when Chen manhandled him.
"Go," Zhang said, pointing towards the stairs.
"You can't tell me what to do," Yìchén blurted out, but he turned quickly and went to his bedroom to reflect on what just happened. His cock pulsated in his pants, and his asshole was itching for some action. Did Zhang just up the ante on him? Was that a challenge or a warning? Maybe it was both. In any case, it made Yìchén want to tread not-so-carefully. Not where these two older men were concerned. First, he needed to make Chen his because that man had been visiting him in his dreams for years, and no way would he give up. But in order to make Chen his, he had to force that man to face the music he was wary of.
And he knew exactly how to do it.
Chapter thirteen
Da Han
DaHanlistenedtothe reports about the state of things from both Chen and Stephen Yeoh, and he sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "How many dead?" he asked about the latest attack from the Lords in Chicago and New York.
"Fifteen," Chen said.
"Fuck!" Da Han shouted as he slammed his fist on the top of his desk. "I want their fucking presidents dead. I want everyone in their fucking club dead! They're just some fucking bikers; how hard can it be to kill them?"
"With all due respect, sir, the Lords of Chaos aren't your typical MC," Stephen said.
"Explain it to me," Da Han said, because he couldn't figure out how and why a biker gang that wasn't even on his radar a few months ago was giving him hell.
"Well, for one thing, they're organized. They are generational, too. Every member is trained for some kind of warfare, but their enforcers are all highly skilled professional killers. In most biker clubs we're familiar with, they're just brutes, and those who kill as enforcers are just more violent than the others. But with them, they're as precise as we are, and we underestimated them. They're smart, calculated, and work well together."
"When you put it that way, I can see why the Castiello family wanted to work with them," Da Han said as he stared forward, thinking about all of the information he heard. "Do you think Yufei can handle them?"
Stephen shook his head. "No, but Tian Yu has taken over all operations, so hopefully the tables will turn."
Da Han scoffed and smirked. "I'm sure Yufei just loves that."
"You know Yufei put up a fight at first, claiming the gang was his, but after losing half of his members, Tian Yu didn't give him a choice."
"He'll get over it, especially if he lives through this. What about Saitoh?"
Stephen looked at his watch, then replied, "Should be arriving within the hour in Chicago."
Da Han nodded. "Good. It's best he go there than here. If I see that son of a bitch, I might kill him."
"He's a bastard, for sure, but a skilled killer, which is what we'll need," Chen agreed.
"What do we know about Rico?"
"We're still looking for his safe house."
"He wouldn't still be a problem had someone done his job," Da Han said, then tossed his glare at Stephen.
The man dropped to his knees, bowing. "I'm sorry, sir. His bodyguards were too quick to react, and when they retaliated, their attack was too forceful. I had to retreat."
"I'm just hearing excuses. Had you put one in his head, it wouldn't have mattered what his bodyguards could have done."
