Chapter 10

I bracedfor knuckles against the jawline.

If it weren't for the gem in my chest, I'd be concerned. When he stood, I could only describe him as hulking. Mr. Bossman, yes, the name amused me; he had both height and weight on his side. As he moved across the office, he stopped short. This would be the impetus for our working relationship. We'd either stand as adversaries, and I'd eventually need to terminate him, or we'd move forward with a tense co-existence.

Mr. Bossman extended his hand. When we shook, he pulled me close.

"My staff. My content. My magazine."

It had been part of the negotiation. I couldn't fire his staff on a whim, but that had never been the goal. It started with the Hideout. With the purchase of the building, I legally held all the cards and could evict the tenets as necessary. It wasn't enough to threaten Bernard's morning coffee. Now, I own the largest magazine dedicated to superheroes. It just so happened several of his friends worked here. I fought to buy Midnight Alley, but so far, Drozdov's lawyers held their own. The last would see what disruption I could cause for the SEMS. Then, I would have a monopoly on the livelihoods of Castle's friends.

"Your board is going to be very pleased."

"Nothing comes without strings."

"No, it does not," I admitted. "May we never find out?"

His grip tightened. It was almost admirable. "May we never find out," he repeated. In a different life, I'd have gladly sent my headhunters to hire Bossman for Vex Industries.

I pulled my hand free and gave a slight nod. With that, it was time to leave. If I were lucky, his next appointment would be waiting outside his office. I had sped our way through the business talk, unable to focus on anything other than the impending looks of anger. Yes, I acknowledged it was childish. No, I didn't care.

I opened the door to see all three men. It couldn't have gone better if I had my techs hack Bossman's appointment calendar… oh wait. There was no point in hiding the smile. I wanted them to assume the worst. Griffin had been a long-time friend of Bernard, and the other two, the significant others.

"Aiden." I gave a nod to my former employee. "It's been some time."

"Not long enough."

"I'm glad to see you've landed yourself a feature column."

"Like you care."

Griffin and Sebastian looked as if they were ready to attack. I craved the moment they made a stupid mistake. Their emotions rose to the surface, and I'm certain I heard Griffin growl. I'm sure I could find other ways to make him curse my name. It was Sebastian who pushed to the front, close enough that we nearly bumped chests.

"I don't know how you got out." Sebastian had a confidence about him that said he was anything but intimidated. If I had to make a bet, I'd guess he was one of Hellcat's former Deviants. The guy who made light or the one who opened portals? They all looked the same.

"Angry that not even prison could hold me? Or that I got out legally?"

"Angry I didn't finish you in the tower." The light guy, I was almost certain of it. "Next time, I won't make that mistake."

"My, my." I goaded the man. "Now who's the villain?"

I backed up, keeping my hands secured behind my back. My plan was more about this moment than about the acquisition of a media corporation. To be fair, after reviewing their books, the board found it to be a sound investment. I had little desire to oversee its operations unless its profit margins plummeted. Having these three guess the angle I worked and how it impacted them was absolutely priceless. It'd be their own undoing.

"Gentlemen, I'm sure we'll see each other again. Janet, have yourself a fine day."

I walked to the door leading toward the elevator. I didn't need to look over my shoulder to know they were watching. With any luck, one of them would text Bernard in the next few minutes.

I reached the elevator, waiting patiently for my chance to push their paranoia past the tipping point. Half the fun of this plan came from being unpredictable. They'd assume the worst, and that's when I'd take up space in their heads. All I had to do was drive the nail into the coffin, and their mistrust would do the rest.

The doors opened, and I stepped inside. Turning around, I found they hadn't moved. They were talking amongst themselves. I didn't need to hear to know they were talking about me. With a slight wave, the doors shut.

"Your move, Sentinel."

* * *

Standing in the middle of the rotunda, I admired the Greek columns around the circular room. I marveled at how they reached the dome at the top, softly lit to create an ambiance for patrons. Nights like tonight, when the moon hung high straight above the glass center, it bordered on magical. I had often attended charity balls in this room, but right now, it had been cleared out. The emptiness made the tiled star on the floor, with its tips pointing to the cardinal directions, stand out. Architecturally, it was both minimal and impressive.

I closed my eyes.

Floral. The air had a sweetness to it, but I found it impossible to identify a single scent. The freshness opened the sinuses, and I wanted to use the word intoxicating. As my nose chased one smell after another, it reminded me of lilac bushes outside my foster mother's house. All summer long, I'd leave my window open, letting the scent waft into my room.

"Am I disturbing a memory?"

His words snapped me back to reality. The image of the small bedroom where I hid after school dissipated. To my right, Won-Ho had closed his eyes and followed the ritual of trying to identify the flowers.

"After making a fool of myself?—"

"Not a fool." He didn't open his eyes as he spoke.

"My misguided attempt to impress," I corrected. "I thought I'd bring you to one of my favorite places in the city."

"Enough that you bought it?" Eyes closed, he pointed to the left. I didn't have to look. He wanted to highlight the sign with my name on it.

"I didn't buy it," I admitted. "I funded its restoration, and they named a wing after me."

"I never thought I'd see the day where Damien Vex dressed down."

I looked down at the t-shirt and jeans. He caught me. My idea of casual wear meant no cufflinks. If trying to impress Won-Ho hadn't worked this far, I figured I'd try for approachable. We looked like a couple of average Joes out on the town. I hid the discomfort by pulling my leather jacket closed. Had he gained the upper hand? It had been a long time since I found myself on an equal footing with another man.

He cracked a smile as his eyes opened. "Shall we?"

We walked toward four sets of French doors leading into the garden. Once we were outside, the smell intensified. Roses. I couldn't recall all their names. My Latin had grown rusty over the years. We started on a pebble path that wound its way through the seven acres of flowers.

"Why here?"

I ran over the lie I'd tell the media. Something, something, preserving Vanguard's beauty. It wasn't the real reason, but it protected my image and kept the papers from digging into my past. For Won-Ho, I decided on an unusual tactic: the truth.

"I grew up in foster care. Every few months, I'd bounce from one home to the next. Her name was Wendy. She was a sweet woman. In her backyard, she had this massive garden. After school, she'd put me to work."

I hadn't thought of Wendy in years. I kept my past a secret. Not only did I not talk about it, I locked it away, throwing away the key. Opening that door always ended in heartache.

Won-Ho reached out, holding my hand. He kept his head forward, not making any sort of ceremony about the physical contact.

"She'd come out and show me how to take care of the plants. I can still hear her humming. We ate a lot of vegetables in that house." Won-Ho chuckled. "In the greenhouse, she had the most exquisite roses. Wendy wouldn't let me touch them. She'd tell me, ‘Sit your heinie down,' and then tell me all about the flowers. I'd sit quietly while she shared this passionate obsession."

"This story doesn't have a happily ever after, does it?" His fingers tightened. He pulled me from the memory. We had wandered along the path until we reached a series of arches covering the path. Vines had worked their way through the trellis. Laced with white lights, it marked the beginning of the actual botanical gardens.

"She passed away."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Collateral damage when some newly powered imbecile tried stopping a robbery."

We walked in silence, passing through the vines until we reached a small bridge leading to a three-tier water fountain. The water glowed from hidden lights. It was hard to bask in the trickling water and cool night air as I thought about the funeral. Wendy hadn't deserved what happened.

"That night at the gala, I wanted to throw you against the wall."

Won-Ho let out a choked gasp. My candor caught him off guard. I'd rather think about the now and fantasize about the future than dwell on a gruesome past. There was no point in keeping secrets, not after explaining the inspiration behind our date.

"Violence, or…"

"Or. Very much or. This will sound arrogant?—"

"I'm sure it is arrogant."

Perhaps. "Every person in that room would trip over themselves to be in my good graces. The sycophants want favor for their own benefit. And yet, here is this man who obviously doesn't belong. He doesn't care about my name or my reputation. He successfully knocked me down a few pegs."

"A compliment if I've ever heard one."

"If I were to focus on the carnal, it'd involve you naked. How could I resist a handsome man who didn't back down?"

"A conquest," he said. "Damien Vex wants what he can't have."

"Perhaps at first." I squeezed his hand. With a quick step, I moved in front of him, close enough I couldn't avoid his eyes. "I do like a challenge. But I'm thinking less with my cock on this one. Won-Ho, you fascinate me, and I can't explain why."

"I've vexed a Vex."

"You have. It's an unfamiliar position for me. But I'm enjoying the discomfort."

I let go of his hand, moving both to his chest. Through his shirt, I could feel the strength in his chest. He might not be toned, but he was muscular. Risking a flat-out rejection, I slid my hand to his neck. He closed his eyes as my thumb brushed his cheek. This wasn't about bedding him and claiming victory. I wanted him, a desire I hadn't felt with the late-night fuck buddies.

He hadn't said no.

I leaned in, lips pressed against his. It started chaste to ensure he didn't summon the dragon and vanish. His body relaxed as he pushed back, tongue parting my lips and exploring my mouth. A chaste kiss turned eager. The scruff on his chin scratched my cheek, threatening to leave beard burn in the morning. I'd risk it if it meant another second locked together.

He pulled away, hovering inches above my face. "Is this a tactic for conquest?" I could feel the warmth of his breath from each word.

"I don't know." There was no point in lying to a lawyer. More startling was the realization that I tread in unfamiliar waters. What was my next move? Not only had the man knocked me down a peg, but he also shook my pillar of confidence. "But I'm curious to find out."

"I can accept that." With a quick peck on the lips, he continued strolling along the path. I couldn't tell, but I think he might enjoy putting me on my heels. It was almost twisted, and it's probably what made me pick up my step to follow him.

We reached a fork in the road. "Which way?"

"There's a pagoda overlooking the pond this way or a fire pit this way."

He stepped to the side. "I'll follow your lead."

That was a dangerous proposition, but I had a feeling he chose his words carefully. I held out my hand like a bumbling school child. He took it, and we continued down the path like high school sweethearts.

"Fire pit it is."

* * *

"Show me," I begged.

The fire flickered in his eyes. If they weren't already mesmerizing, this would have pushed them over the edge. Won-Ho leaned back in an Adirondack chair as if we were sitting by a campfire. His head swayed back and forth as he debated fulfilling my wish.

"Not everybody gets a show."

"I'll consider myself lucky."

He leaned forward in the chair, hands balled into fists on either side. His arms glowed blue and I could see the dragon wasn't a mystical being he summoned. Tattoos moved along his skin until they pulled off, transforming from black ink into an electric blue. Within seconds, a gigantic dragon had wrapped itself around his body. I was surprised to see the phantom of a tiger appear.

"The zodiac?"

He nodded. "They're slightly more menacing than the pig."

"Did your powers always involve tattoos?"

He nodded. "There's another dozen along my back and chest. I've thought of adding more, but at some point, enough is enough. These have always accomplished their job."

"You'll have to show me the rest sometime." He raised an eyebrow. "Interpret as you please."

"And you?"

"You've seen the jewel. It's the source of my powers. I discovered it in a museum. They had it in a small case, hidden away where nobody could find it. I remember thinking it was hardly worth including. For whatever reason, it shimmered, and when I picked it up?—"

"Theft? How pedestrian of you."

"The museum was suitably compensated after the fact."

"Sounds like your lawyers got involved."

Won-Ho cracked a smile, the fire making his smile gleam. "Yes. Yes, they did. I still can't remember how it got on my chest. It did ruin my favorite tie before embedding itself."

"And the rest is history."

"More like the rest is tabloid fodder."

The botanical gardens were nearly empty during the week. We had only come across a few patrons as we wandered to our perch. While the chairs were comfortable, sitting across the fire was less than desirable. I couldn't instigate another kiss from here. While maddening, it was probably for the best, otherwise I'd be tempted to discover what other tattoos he hid beneath his t-shirt.

The silence between us grew until I couldn't stand it any longer. "I'll admit, small talk isn't exactly my forte."

"Sports?"

"Not likely."

"Television?"

"I don't own a TV."

"Books?"

"Do annual reports count?"

"No. What do you do for fun?"

The question made me pause. I enjoyed my life, but in all the hustle of getting my powers back, I hadn't thought of it as fun. I'm not even sure I knew how to define the word. Corporate takeovers were fun, but in my daily life, there weren't many small moments I could say I enjoyed. Sitting in a hot tub admiring the city from my penthouse gave me an opportunity to relax, but did it classify as fun?

"So, you're a workaholic."

"It appears I am. What about yourself?"

"I work at a soup kitchen."

I chuckled. "Of course, you do. Do you read to?—"

"I read to kids at the library."

"I asked a Boy Scout on a date."

The papers labeled me as one of the most dangerous men in Vanguard. It'd only take jaywalking before they threw me into prison for life. Yet, here was a man who made himself eligible for sainthood. If I didn't know his past, I'd be suspicious. I felt that Won-Ho's philanthropy attempted to correct the wrongs of his past.

"This is a date?"

"I hope it is." It was the truth. I didn't casually pal around with handsome men. The selfish part of me wanted it to count. For what, I didn't know. But I wanted this to be the stepping stone leading to somewhere.

"Can I ask you an unpleasant question?" Up to this point, he had been very tightlipped about his past. I didn't want to pry. It was none of my business, but I needed help to connect the dots. Was it a natural progression for a date? Small talk I couldn't take part in, and then delving into a person's wounds? Maybe my dating tactics needed freshening.

When he didn't object, I pushed forward. "You were married?" He let out a long sigh. "You owe me nothing. But I'm genuinely curious."

"It's okay." As he stared into the fire, it was like watching his mind being transported to the past. I asked a question that dislodged all the carefully placed baggage. "Yes. I was once married. We got a divorce."

I could hear the pain in his voice. Won-Ho hadn't healed. Something about this continued to hang over his head. The next question wasn't for me. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to hear the entire tale, but I wanted to tread lightly. If he hurt, I didn't want to be the one to rub his face in it.

"What was she like?"

"We come from a time when love wasn't part of our story. I hardly knew her when we got married. Our parents were thrilled. It wasn't love, but we respected one another."

His voice trailed off. I'd like to say I was too old to focus on labels. But after the kiss earlier, I was eager to hear how this story unfolded. Was Won-Ho attracted to women? Did he enter the marriage as a gay… oh. There were plenty of men who came out later in life, long after being married and raising a family. I resisted speaking, instead letting him set the pace of our conversation.

"She sang." He smiled. "She had a beautiful voice. Every night, she'd sing lullabies to Jin-Ae."

The fire crackled when he paused. The air smelled of sweet flowers and burned wood. While I was most comfortable in a high-end restaurant or sitting at the chef's table, there was something about the rustic nature that had its appeal. Perhaps I'd have the architect install a fire feature on my balcony. It'd complement the rose bushes planted along the edge overlooking the skyline.

"What happened?"

"She never knew about my abilities. I worked for a small firm defending criminals. Crime in Vanguard had gotten out of control, and here I was, trying to keep them out of jail. I decided to use my abilities to make a difference. They named me Prime, Vanguard's first hero. That's where I met Zion."

Prime? The name was whispered amongst supers. He had vanished decades ago. One day he rescued the mayor from a kingpin, and then the next day, nothing. The popular opinion was that he had been killed. Others suggested a quiet retirement. But as with most drama in my life, it came from another man.

"Working side-by-side, I…" He bit back the words.

"Had feelings for him?"

He didn't confirm or deny. That was all I needed to know. I had met many men who, in their younger days, didn't know the word gay. They knew they were different, but had no vocabulary to explain it. For the lucky few, they found a reason to explore their desires. But discovering themselves came with a cost. I wanted nothing more than to hug Won-Ho. This wasn't about a man I wanted to bed, or even a man I wanted to date. I respected a man willing to speak his truth. As people, we hoped for the same destination, but the path wasn't always easy.

"I betrayed Min… and Jin-Ae." He covered his face. Leaning forward, he stared at his feet. I wanted to say something to wipe away the guilt. He had built his entire life around giving back, and now I wondered if it was less holistic and more fueled by guilt.

Comforting wasn't in my wheelhouse. If he were an employee, I'd tell them to suck it up or pack their desk. Crying at work might be common, but showing weakness wasn't. I ran a tight ship, and they knew I wasn't the right person for a conversation about feelings.

Won-Ho wasn't an employee.

What would Doc say? He'd know the perfect words in this situation to bring Won-Ho out of his discomfort. I got to my feet. There weren't words. I couldn't say it'd be okay with confidence. An unusual situation required an unusual response.

I walked around the fire pit, standing in front of the man. I reached under his arms, jerking him upright. With an oomph, I wrapped my arms around his chest. He didn't need words; he needed solace. At this moment, I could provide that.

He buried his face in my shoulder. He returned the hug, tighter than expected. My ribs vibrated under his strength. Any more, and I'd think he tried to kill me. I said nothing as I held him. My hands ran up and down his back, interrupted by the occasional pat on the shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"For what?"

He let out a long sigh, not moving his head from my shoulder. "You didn't expect an emotional mess."

"Thank you."

"For?"

"Being yourself."

Minutes passed before he lifted his head. Taking a step back, he wiped his eyes. If I had to guess, I'd make a wager this was the first time he told his story aloud. I gave the side of his face a pat.

"Did Damien Vex just console me?"

"I'm a complicated man." But I saw his point. If Diesel or Clint saw me holding a man, they'd assume I had a blade to his throat. Neither of them would ever suspect I'd offer tenderness as a solution. Yet again, Won-Ho had an effect. I claimed Diesel had grown soft since he shacked up with his boyfriend. Is this how softness took hold?

"I'll have to do something extra despicable for the sake of my reputation."

He was about to speak when my phone rang. Almost nobody had my number. Diesel and Clint relied on texting emojis all day. If Geoff interrupted this moment, I'd make sure his corpse wound up in a landfill.

"Are you going to answer?"

"I have other priorities."

The ringing stopped. It started again.

"Answer it. Maybe it's Sentinel asking for a showdown."

I shot him a sour expression. "Too soon." It lifted a weight in my chest when he smiled. I'd take the jab to see the pain wash away.

Doc? I answered the phone. "Clint and Diesel are in trouble. You're on deck."

"I'm not their babysitter," I spit back. "They can get out of their own mess."

"They're being shipped to Cold Iron." Nobody deserved that. "Damien, stop being an ass and help your friends."

"Friends is a strong word."

Won-Ho patted me on the chest. "I didn't think you'd be one to back down from a fight."

My jaw clenched as I let out a low growl. "Appealing to my ego. We're going to have a talk about using your lawyer voice with me."

"The defense rests its case."

"Who are you with?" Asked Doc.

"Text the coordinates."

I hung up. "I hate to cut this short. But it looks like the idiots I socialize with are in danger. I'll make it?—"

"Oh, this date isn't over."

The blue light shimmered about Won's body. I shielded my eyes as it flared. Seconds later, I stared at Prime, Vanguard's first superhero. The dragon continued to move about his body while his head was outlined with the face of a tiger. We had taken a stroll, delved into our pasts, and now we were about to cause mayhem to save a couple of crooks. If that suit wound up on the floor of my bedroom, this would go down as the perfect date.

"Lead the way," he said.