Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In five years, a lot can change.

At five years old a child can have the concept of speech, walking, and a sense of self.

You can spend five years (or more) to get specialized in any field.

Five years is almost the length of time it takes to go from Earth to Jupiter.

Five years ago, technology wasn't anywhere close to it today. And probably will be at another level five years from now.

Five.

Five years in jail.

And today was his last day. Today, as he walked that corridor, he had walked through on his first day, he couldn't believe it. It was over. Five years of sleepless nights, stressful moments, and fighting to keep mental sanity and physical strength.

It was not for the faint of heart.

It was only for the brave.

He was not the same man he was before. He was changed, atoned, and a better version of himself. Isolation could do that to you. He found comfort in old books and journaled for most of his days. He flew under the radar, thanks to the protection cloak in effect within the thick walls of the jail, but still, he kept to himself. No friends. No acquaintances. He had breakfast, dinner, and lunch alone. Sat in the yard with a book by himself. Did his pull-ups, push-ups, and sit-ups on the cold floor of his small cell. The guards respected his good behaviour. The other inmates didn’t dare to even look his way. Despite all of that, it was rare for him to have a good night's sleep.

Five years ago, he walked into prison with the same clothes we wore today and nothing else. A deal he had no idea had to go on, led him under the bus his friends had. He was yet to forgive them. 

Instead, he decided to ignore it. He made a promise to himself that the day he walked out of the jail, he would never fall into that category again. He would be good. That life of crime, robbing, lying, kicking, and screaming was over. He was done being an integral part of London’s crime. 

He was done. 

On that day he walked out of the facility with those same clothes, but with emotional baggage too heavy to explain. When he stepped out of that terrifying building, and the door closed behind him, he felt a sense of relief. Finally, the ordeal was over. And he cried. Tears of relief, of joy, of anger…but mostly, he allowed himself to cry as a prize for holding back his tears for five years. Right there, on the other side of the walls that had kept him. 

Getting back into the world after five years proved to be a challenge. 

A lot had changed. There was a war in this old continent, another brewing across the sea, and two viruses, one of them ever-changing and another attacking a community, looming in the background never really leaving. Economic, social, and health crises. The environment was screaming for help, and no one was listening. The far right was coming around again. Everything was more expensive, toxic, made of plastic, and worse for your health.

Despite all that, he tried. 

He met with an agent who gave him his first task: get his documentation in order. So, he spent two weeks in and out of government official buildings getting his life back together with the necessary files, stamps, declarations, and reports. All so he could come back to life as a rehabilitated human being.

The second step, which proved to be the hardest one, was getting a job. And that was a challenge. He went to interviews that the job centre got for him: jobs that required his strength and agility, but nothing he hadn’t done before. 

It proved to be a struggle to get a job. First, the employees looked at his resume; The first thing that popped out was his lack of professional experience in the real world which would clash with his skills: observant, proactive, team member, and good negotiation skills.

Then, they would inquire about the five-year gap and there was no way around it; at first, he lied and said they had been on a ‘discovering journey’ which would open the floor to more questions he didn’t have the answer for. Then, he decided to add he was working on a ‘different project’ that involved him creating an entire project in his mind too complicated to explain.

 In the end, he simply answered:

“I was in jail,” He’d said with a deadpan face. Then, he’d watch the interviewer’s face fall just as fast. Shortly after, he’d ask the secretary for a stamp of presence proving he had gone to the job interview and would leave without any expectations.

He never asked for help.

He never called the old contacts that got him into his mess.

He walked the road by himself.

A victim of his pride, but also a need for self-preservation.

However, when things got too much after another week had gone by with a horde of negative replies coming his way, it began to weigh on him. The second week wasn’t different.

The third as well: a lot of interviews, but no one wanted to keep him as an employee – ‘you did great in our interview’; ‘you did great on our test’ or ‘we see great potential within you, but they all ended the same way: ‘we’ve decided to go a different direction.’ Which meant, they were not going to hire someone fresh out of jail.

By the fourth week, morphing into the fifth, since he was out of the big house, he began believing that he wouldn’t get anything for himself and would be forced to live off benefits. Which tugged at his pride. He needed purpose! Something to drive him. No matter what kind of job it was.

So, he swallowed his pride. He rang old companions and connections – the same ones that had cost him his freedom once. There he was winking again and risking becoming a new addition to the statistic of prisoners that go back to their old ways after jail. 

Surprisingly, after that one call, he got an interview. 24h there he was on the way to an opportunity he had no idea what would come of it. It wasn’t a corporate job, construction, or cleaning job. It was in an area he enjoyed very much: driving. 

On that cold Monday morning, he got up, found his best clothes, and off he went. Down to the tube, then on a bus, and after a short walk, he arrived where he was supposed to. It didn’t look like much. A building cramped up between two others – too old to hold any kind of office space, but he went in.

The old elevator creaked as it rode to the final floor. When he pushed the metallic door to the side, he stepped onto the floor that was completely naked of any decoration. Feeling nervous, he rang the bell of the only door ahead of him. It clicked open and a ‘come in’ echoed from the inside.

He pushed inside, finding a short woman with thick glasses and a friendly face waiting for him, behind a tall desk.

“’ Mornin’.”

“Morning,” He replied, looking around. There was a strong scent in the air, and he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. “I’m here for an interview.”

“Of course, love. Give us your name, will ya?” 

He gave the name and the woman looked up at her files on top of the table. Shortly after, she found him and smiled.  

“Ah, there we are. Won’t you go through that door? Michael will come to meet ya.”

He entered the office space, where it seemed like a tornado had gone through there. There was not a single space that was not occupied by papers. Piles and piles of them. It was messy and chaotic for anyone with any sense of organization. He sat down keeping his hands to himself, but mentally seeing himself tidying every single item in that room.

How could anyone work like that?

The door at the back of the office sprung open and a large man came out. He had a cigar on his lips, a belly too large for it to be healthy, and no hair on his head. The golden watch was too tight around his wrist, the necklaces around his neck jingled and the suspenders did him no justice, almost pulling the pants over his large belly.

“Carmen!” He shouted, his voice echoing. The door behind Harry peered open and he saw the short woman peeking through. “Get me Thomas on the phone. Right now. Tell him to stop fuckin’ about because he’s fired!”

“You fired him already.”

“Well, tell him he’s hired. Then, fire him again. I am done with him.”

“Yes, sir.”

The woman cowered back out of the office and Harry turned to the man ahead of him. He grunted and mumbled with the cigar burning away between his lips. He searched for a paper, by pulling and tugging; moving this pile to that corner and that one over here.

“So…” He said, once he found whatever he was looking for. The man then turned to his computer (an ancient-looking thing) and turned it on. The machine whirred alive with the loud fan going on. “Who are you?”

The young man cleared his throat.

“Harry. Lookin’ for a job. I came here at the recommendation-”

“Well, that’s obvious, innit? No need to tell me you sent ya, I know the prick.” The man grumbled, looking at his computer. His thick, fat fingers, typing away at the white keyboard ass smoke rose above his head. “Been in the big house, eh?”

“Yes,”

“How long?”

“Five years.”

“Short vacation,” The man added. “Did you cooperate?”

“Yes.”

“That explains it. Contrary to popular demand, I sympathise with rats – one needs to survive, innit?”

“I did not rat anyone. I just…gave them what they wanted.”

“Yeah, whatever helps you sleep better at night, laddy.” He typed away a few more times and Harry noticed how loud he was breathing. He feared the man would burst right there in front of him. “Can you drive?”

“Yes,”

“Automatic or stick?”

“Both.” He responded with confidence and Michael peered over at him for the first time.

The man grabbed his glasses, putting them over his greasy nose eying Harry up and down. He huffed and puffed on his thick cigarette. That was the strong scent that emanated all over the office.

“How old is ya, lad?”

“29.”

“A baby…” He mumbled. Michael tossed his glasses aside and then returned to his computer. “Here are the rules: Don’t ask questions. Show up on time. No chit-chatting with the clients – no talking about the weather or sports or, for fucks sake, no politics or religion. You look down. ‘Good morning, sir/ma’am; Good evening, sir/ma’am.’ Keep it short and simple. ‘

‘Always be available. Always be on time. That means if they want bloody Nando’s at 02h00am, you get over there and you drive’em to the bloody spot with a fucking smile on your face. You pick’em up. You drop’em off. That’s it! You drive. You're not a maid. You're not a bodyguard. You're not a nanny, a cook, a therapist, or a best friend: driver. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Other things: for fucks sake do not eye the Mrs.” Michael underlined. “That means if the client has a fit sister, girlfriend, mother, wife, cousin or bloody grandmother: you do not linger, stare or talk to them.” Michael elaborated. Then, he looked at the young man up and down. “The same goes for the male counterpart – if that is what gets you off; I don’t care. If it’s not yours, do not stare. The last thing I need is another little chicken thinking he is big enough to eye the client’s bird. Clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Michael opened a drawer and took out a roll of cash, tossing it to Harry and then, a card placing it ahead of him.

“Get yourself a haircut, no need for that hippie look. Then, go here: Get yourself a black suit, different shirts, and a tie. Then, go next door and get yourself some shoes – no need to get the fancy kind because it’s stylish. I will end you if you get the fancy kind and your feet slip while driving.” He added, leaning back on his chair. “Again, be on time. Show up well dressed, bathed, with a fresh haircut, and smelling nice – my boys might not be much, but fuck it if at least they look like it. No talkbacks! I don’t want to hear your name associated with any complaint – I have a zero-shit policy: means you fuck up; you fuck off. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The client is always right. If they want to go right and you know it takes twice as long, let them – that’s how you gain their trust and respect; Let the bad choices fall on them, if they’re late for a meeting because they decided to go right it’s on them – not you. Even if they don’t see that. If the client gives you a tip for a job well done. You can keep it. Anything above 200£, I take a share. Yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

Michael stared at him for the longest time. An awkward silence fell between the two.

“What the fuck are you still doing here? Get your stuff to Carmen out in front and we’ll get you settled. You start tomorrow.”

Harry stumbled out of his seat, making his way to the door. He was almost out, but then he turned around.

“Sir?” He asked and Michael grunted. “Whatever happened to the previous driver?”

The man grabbed his cigar, then leaned on the chair – so far back, Harry thought he was about to tumble.

“He died,” Michael announced with openness. “Yeah. Shot dead. Bullet right to the head. Want to know why?”  Harry nodded. “Because he asked too many fucking questions! What did I tell you? Rule number 1: don’t ask questions. Of any kind.”

“Right- “

Michael frowned.

“Are you slow? I told you, get ya shit to Carmen and fuck off!”

Harry nearly ran out of the office, banging the door behind him. He met Carmen again out in front, and she smiled at him. 

“Don’t worry. He’s all noise and no aim.” Harry smiled shyly, then handed over his documentation. Carmen moved here and there, typing away and taking prints of Harry’s documentation. Shortly enough the woman gave back his documents and a contract. “Take your time to read, love.”

Standing by her desk Harry read his contract. He’d work most days, with Sunday as the day off and another rotating day of his choosing. He had no schedule, but if he exceeded the eight hours of work, he’d receive extra. The contract had a beginning date (the following day at 09h00) but it had no termination date, which meant that the client could fire him at any moment without giving him notice. There was also a two-week trial. Overall, his salary was way above any other offer he had come across, he would receive a card for meals with a daily payment of 7£ and had health insurance, including a dentist. It wasn’t bad at all.  

The driver signed the last sheet and handed it back to Carmen who smiled at him. In return, the woman gave him back a small folder.

“You’ll be driving for the Malik family. They are one of our oldest clients - a very kind family, but very demanding as well. You’ll be driving Trisha Malik, the mother - her previous driver didn’t behave with the family, so he was dismissed. Here you have a few of her favourite locations: hair salon, favourite museums, restaurants, and houses of friends - study them. After you do all that Michael wanted you to do regarding clothes and hair, go here…” Carmen gave Harry another business card. “You’re going to pick up the car at the garage. You’ll be driving a black 2022 Jaguar F-Pace S - the garage has the documents for the car, so don’t worry.’

‘Also, we handle insurance, inspection, taxes mechanics and you’ll find a fleet card in there for gas. The GPS in the car is updated as well, including all the routes and shortcuts - we do a monthly update on the cards. And yes, the car has a tracking system, for our insurance and your security - and of the clients as well. The data is stored on a server and kept for up to six months.”

“Whoa…” Harry mumbled. “You have an operation here.”

“We’ve been doing this for almost twenty years, love. The building may not be much, but we are good.” Carmen gave him a gentle smile. “We believe that everyone deserves a chance. Good luck, Harry.”

The door to Michael’s office opened again and he seemed surprised to find Harry. 

“ Why are you still here?”

Harry came out of the office with renewed confidence and positivity. He felt like he could take on everything now. Finally, after struggling for many weeks and thinking he’d never see the light of success, he was getting back on track.

He came down the elevator, pushed the door open and his confidence quickly shook. 

He wasn’t expecting to see this old friend so soon. 

Leaning against an impeccable-looking silver Porsche Panamera Turbo S was someone he hadn’t seen in five years. Dressed in the most casual clothes, sporting a silver necklace around his neck, and eating popcorn. The friend looked at him, showing a welcoming smirk. 

“Harry,” He said, tossing out the popcorn in the bin. The friend wiped his hands, then came closer with open arms. 

“Liam,” Harry recognized. 

The two friends hugged, with Harry trying his best to keep the tone casual and welcoming. He hadn’t seen Liam in five years and honestly…

He wasn’t sure he wanted to see him at all. 

The two broke the hug with Liam eyeing up and down. 

“Look at you, mate.” Liam greeted. “You look good. It’s good to see you again.”

“Thank you.”

“Even though, it took us five weeks to see one another.”

“I was…trying to get back on my feet…”

“No harm, no foul, brother.” Liam smiled again. “Come. Let’s go for a drive.”

“Oh. I must go-”

"Nonsense," Liam responded, walking to the car. “I know where you’re going. I’ll drop you off. Come on. Get in.”

With not much choice, Harry got into the Panamera and felt like a fraud. Every inch of him screamed to not follow Liam to wherever he was going, but since it had been through his contacts that Harry got this job, he felt obliged too. 

Liam made the car roar through the London streets - a car way to flash and with too much gear to drive those crowded roads. Harry noticed heads turning whenever the car rolled by and he wondered what the people thought about it. 

Seconds later, Liam parked the car in front of a familiar building Harry thought he would never see again.  He stood in front of an establishment, with a dark door and a name on the side. If you knew of the place, then you knew the type of place it was. He stood in front of a gentlemen's club called The Velvet Curtain. He had spent so many nights there, attending and working, that it all seemed like a far mirage. A distant dream. A lifetime away. The Velvet Curtain was a club where men - and some women - came to see beautiful creatures doing beautiful things. Liam tossed the key to the bodyguard, who caught it with one hand. 

“Welcome back,” The man greeted.

Liam pulled the door open and together they entered the darkened club. The Velvet, as it was more commonly known, was a large space for those who were willing to fall into a pit of decadence.  With a centre stage right in the middle of the room, it featured a long catwalk with four stripping poles, illuminated by small light bulbs.

On both sides of the large room, were too-long counters separating the lounge area with the tables from the bar stocked ceiling high with the best booze. There were mirrors everywhere, the chairs were dark and velvet drapes covered the walls. Beside each bar were two darkened hallways illuminated with red lights that led to the private rooms: on the left, the Champagne and Whiskey room. On the right are the Licour and Rum rooms. Aside from the centre stage, there were two smaller stages further back with poles. 

At night, the club would be crowded with patrons enjoying their drinks and the half-hour shows back-to-back. The money would be flying left and right. Women sauntered about in little to no clothes, sliding on clients for an extra amount, or being pampered by men who thought they had a shot. Now, at this hour of the morning, the lights were all on, and the cleaning crew wiped all traces of the previous night. Some of the strippers and bartenders were already in place. The strippers rehearsed new moves on the stage, twisting and turning around on the pole like beautiful snakes. They wore shorts, tank tops, or bikini tops while on their shoes the most shining heels made their legs longer. While the bartenders prepared and cleaned everything for the late service. They were all gorgeous. 

In general, the women in The Velvet had only one requisite: they had to be beautiful. They were beautiful, with amazing curves and dashing smiles. Black, Latina, Eastern European, Middle Eastern, Asian; Brown eyes, blonde hair, red hair, blue eyes, or dark hair; curly, long, or short; tall, shorty, curvy or skinny with a big booty or big breasts - it didn’t matter the preference: the girl existed there. Liam would handpick every single one of them to make sure they were up to the standard. 

The friend knocked on the counter and sat on the bench. A beautiful bartender walked over to them, she had dashed honey eyes and a head full of curls. A Nubian beauty enough to make a man lose his wits about him. And all of that, without being ready to work.

“Mornin’, love. Give us something will ya?” 

The girl behind the counter smiled beautifully. 

“A bit early, no?” Harry wondered, sitting next to him. 

“Just a sip, brother.” The woman returned, placing two glasses side by side, pouring a bit of liquor of the richest red-brown colour. Liam grabbed his glass and turned to Harry. “To you, mate. Welcome back.”

“Thank you, Liam.”

They clinked the glasses, then sipped together. Liam drank in one go while Harry only sipped his - he had been clean for five years and honestly, he didn’t feel the need to drink anymore. The alcohol tasted funny on his lips.

The driver looked around the establishment taking all the memories in. The nights he had spent here, getting lap dances from girls or kissing them, squeezing them. Such debauchery in such a tiny place. He cringed thinking of the actions he couldn’t see himself doing anymore. He looked up to the second floor, seeing a set of dark windows overlooking the place.

“Still the same old place.”

“Nah, things have…changed a bit,” Liam responded. Harry turned back to his friend, seeing him eying the barwoman behind the counter. “We are all for women’s empowerment, feminism and intersectionality, Harry. We have a safe environment for our girls.”

“Do they want to be here?”

Liam smirked, knowing what he meant “That’s in our past, mate. And it’s an awful chapter we want to erase, you know? This place is legit, respecting all the laws and regulations of sex work. We have an open-door policy. Our girls are all of age. All legal. Freelance agents - meaning they come and go whenever they please. If they want to dance on our stage, they pay to be on there and we take a fee for what they make. Our beautiful, beautiful… ” Liam took the hand of the bartender and kissed it gently. “bar personnel are all employed with contracts full of benefits.” Liam retrieved his hand, looking at his friend. “A legit place of business.”

“So, the private rooms are out of work, then?”

“As I said, the girls are free agents. We have a policy of no prostitution or soliciting of any kind. No touching. No groping. And that is clear, informed and reinforced daily. The girls know. However, whatever the girls decide to do behind those closed, private doors is of their own volition and we, as an establishment, are not to be blamed for what our customers do.”

“Does the police know that?”

Liam looked at Harry unable to hide a smirk on his lips and a twinkle in his eye. The friend planted a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. 

“You’ve grown older.”

“It’s been five years.”

“He’s going to be happy to see you, lad.”

“Where is he?”

“In a meeting.”

“With?”

“Partners,” Liam answered. “A new venture is coming soon. We are moving things. We are legit. This is a legit place. Clean.”

“Clean?”

Liam turned to the bartender across from him. 

“As clean as it can be, right Diamond?”

“Yes, Mr Payne.”

“Come now. I’ve told you to call me Liam.” He responded smoothly. Diamond smiled, falling under his charm. Harry wondered if he had slept with her. He wondered if Liam had slept with every single woman in there - he was known for it. Too handsome and charming to resist. “Mr Payne is my father. He’s old and grey. Do I look old and grey to you?”

“Not at all. You look young and full of life.”

“Oh, yes darling.”

Diamond was called by another colleague and the young woman excused herself. Liam leaned over the counter to watch her walk away in her tight jeans, hugging her curve. 

“Still eyeing the merchandise, I see,” Harry commented. He looked around the room seeing one girl more beautiful than the next. “Which is understandable.”

“What kind of boss would I be if I didn’t try the product first?”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Oh, stop acting like that. Don’t think I don’t remember you back in the day having all kinds of fun with the merchandise. We have nice girls.” Liam responded with a smirk. “I know you like…you know, men and that-”

“Liam-”

“Sorry,” Liam responded softly. “Your taste is none of my business, but if you miss some good old female loving, my girls are available. You’ve always been a favourite and they love your boyish looks. Got them salivating, already. Look.”

Harry looked over his shoulder seeing some of the strippers looking at him and gossiping like schoolgirls in a yard. 

Harry twisted and turned thinking about his older self and how he had behaved in the past. 

The Velvet had a second floor, which was off-limits to patrons. A balcony overlooking the club, from where management would oversee the movement every night. The office door opened and a man in an impeccable suit came out. The man was older, clearly someone of influence and knowledge. He came down the steps with a light jog, fixing his blazer. Liam stood up from his seat and Harry mimicked him; The man walked up to him with a held-out hand. 

“Mr Payne. A pleasure, as always.”

Liam shook his hand too strongly. “We’ll be in touch.”

“Definitely,”

The man gave Harry a short glance, then walked out without a word.

“Come on, let’s see the man,” Liam suggested, guiding Harry to the stairs. 

“So, he’s meeting politicians now?”

“Not a politician,” Liam responded, going ahead of him. “Just business.”

“Business?”

“Yes,” Liam turned over his shoulder with a smirk. “I told ya, lad. We’re legit now.” Liam stepped onto the second floor, leading the way down the balcony to the office door. Harry looked over seeing the girls on stage moving their hips and flicking their hair looking sexy, even though they were fully dressed. One of them looked up, winking at him. 

Liam knocked on the door, then pushed it open slightly. “Harry’s here.”

The young driver entered the office room that he had been to so many times before. Inside, he recognized Xander in the corner - they were never close. There was a piece of himself dedicated to hating him and he knew Xander felt the same. He also recognized the young Roman, who hadn’t aged or matured enough to be in such a room and, Nick. All three of them stared back at Harry with surprise. 

Behind the desk, standing up with a gigantic smile, was his best friend back in the day, the owner of every corner and drug den in London: Louis. 

“Hazzah!” He welcomed me with a grin. Louis came around the table and held Harry tight in front of everyone padding on the back. Then, he kissed his cheek loudly and kept an arm around his neck. Louis turned him to his friends and gushed with pride. “See, lads, if you want to go far in this organisation. If you want to win your stripes and make a name for yourself, you need to understand that sometimes you must take one for the team. Bite the bullet. Stand in front of a train for your mates.” Louis smacked Harry in the chest. “Harry did just that. He did it all without a complaint. He’s the best of us. The greatest of us. And my best mate. Welcome, love.”

“I doubt I’m all that, Louis.”

“You’re that and much more,” Louis responded with a smirk. “All right, you lot fuck the fuck off. I need some time with my Sargent.”

The three men got up from their seats walking out of the room. Xander made sure to shoot Harry a menacing look, which he held with the same power. Liam closed the door and then took a seat.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t go around telling people I’m your Sergeant, ” Harry begged.

“Well, you are.” Louis walked back to the desk, sitting heavily. “You’re my number one. No offence, Payno.”

“None taken. Harry is a good lad.” Liam responded with a shrug.

Harry tried his best to remain composed even though he wanted nothing more but to escape this room. He walked to the desk, pulled a chair, and sat down across from Louis.

“I just saw what you did with the place- “

“Amazing, innit?” Louis responded with pride. “We came along nicely.”

“Who was that man?”

“What man?”

“The suit.”

Louis shot Liam a quick look. Then, his smile came back even stronger. “Business. You’ll know soon enough. Now, tell me, how are things? Did you get around to seeing Michael?”

“I got the job.”

“Good lad. I knew you’d get it. No one can drive like you, Harry. He’s good. Michael is loud and obnoxious but he’s good. He’ll do good for you. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Yeah, he has me running all kinds of errands: get a haircut, get clothes, shoes, and the car…”

“Normal stuff,” Louis responded with a shrug. “You’ll do great.”

“Louis, I’m thankful, but I don’t need you fighting my battles or risking your neck out for me- “

“Nonsense! It’s the least I could do.” Louis insisted. “You went to the big house for our organisation. I’ll never forget that. I’ll always be in your debt, Harry.”

“You already did more than enough,” Despite being grateful, he wanted distance from this life. He was a rehabilitated man. He wanted to continue his life on the right path and not repeat the same mistakes. “Thank you for looking after my mum.”

“Always,” Louis responded. There was a moment of pause, and then Louis turned to Liam, “I even have a present for you. Payno.”

Liam got up from his chair and walked over to a cupboard behind Louis. He opened the door and then leaned down to pick something up. Then, he turned with a big duffel bag and dropped it on the table.

“Here, buy yourself something pretty.”

Harry looked at the bag, then at Louis who egged him to open it. The driver got up, pulled the zipper down and pushed the lips apart. Inside, stacked on stacks of money wrapped in colourful rubber bands. Harry grabbed one, flipping the bills quickly: 1000£. The first of an endless pile of them.

“What is this?”

“Your cut,” Louis explained standing up. “With each sale, we took a percentage for you. There’s roughly seven million in there.”

Harry dropped the roll of money inside the bag again, as if it were burning hot. Seven million in five years? He didn’t even want to think of the kind of moves Louis was pulling around London. 

“I can’t take this.”

“Harry, come on. It’s your cut. We’re here because of you. It’s unfair for us to keep all of it.”

“Louis, I can’t take that money- “

“You will take this money. It’s payment for your service. For being a good friend, taking a bullet for us and working the way we told you to work.” Louis underlined calmly. “We all agreed that you deserve a share of what we achieve. There ya go.” Harry’s eyes fell back on the bag with the money screaming at him. “It’s clean,”

Harry’s eyes shot up at Louis who shrugged. 

Liam nodded, “Clean. Honest.”

“You just said it’s my share.”

“This is a business and, as all businesses, we honour our contracts and deals. Even those we made before we became well-behaved...”

Harry looked down at the money bag, unable to believe what he was seeing. Louis, being ever so impatient, sat back down.

“Listen, you either take the money or I’m burning it. I’m not keeping it.” Louis responded.

Harry closed the bag and held onto it. It was heavier than he thought. Seven million pounds.

Fuck.

“Thank you, Lou.”

“No problem, Harry,” Louis responded with a winning smile. “Welcome back.”

“Why don’t you wait for me downstairs, mate,” Liam suggested. “I’ll drive ya to the place you need to go. So, you don’t walk around with a bag full of money.”

Seconds later the driver was out of the room, leaving the two business partners alone. After closing the door, Liam turned to Louis with a raised eyebrow.

“He seems skittish.”

“He just got out,” Louis responded. “Everything is new to him.”

“Can we trust him, though? I don’t want to risk this, Lou. We must get this- “

“Relax, Payno. Harry needs time to adjust, that’s all.” Louis guaranteed. “He’ll give us all the information we need. We have eyes and ears on the other side. He’s a good addition.”

“I’ll ask someone to keep an eye on him. Just in case.”

“Whatever you want,” Louis added. “Harry will do right by us, just as we did for him.”

“What if he fails?”

Louis looked up at Liam. “I’ve buried friends over lesser things.”

Liam dropped Harry at the garage wishing him good luck for the next day. Harry got to the gate of a gigantic parking lot and was met by a man in black overalls. He gave his name, and the man already knew he was coming by that morning to get the Jaguar. He waited for a few moments by the gate, with the bag weighing heavily on his hand.

Seconds later the car arrived from the corner and Harry was surprised at the sheer size of the vehicle. Cars were all so much bigger now. A young woman came out of the car with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

“Hiya. You for the Jaguar?”

“Yes. Harry.”

“Katie.” She replied, shaking his hand. “Let’s look at her.”

Katie gave Harry a tour of the inside of the car and Harry fell in love with it immediately - what an amazing piece of the vehicle. The lines, the colour, the feel of it. It was a monster of a car, so robust but also so silky soft. The young mechanic showed him how all the routes for Mrs Malik were already bookmarked on the GPS,

“Whenever you go to a new place, bookmark it with the name. It’s all alphabetical order or you can group them like ‘restaurants’ or ‘museums’ and you’ll get there.”

She also showed him how to work the radio, suggesting to always keep it in the same station while working and at a relatively low volume. Katie showed him the dashboard, where all the buttons were, and what the interactive panel did. She showed how the automatic stick worked, and how to activate the air conditioner, the blinkers, and any other emergency lights.

“This one is a hybrid, so you have gas and electric function.” She explained pointing at the board behind the wheel. “She doesn’t drink too much, nor does she let out a lot of emissions.”

“How many cars do they have?”

Katie paused for a moment, “Well, they have a Bentley, this Jaguar and I believe another one, a bit of an older version.”

“So, I’m not the only driver to the family?”

“No!” Katie responded. “There’s three of you, but one is a little bit older - he’s there as backup and has been with the family for years now. One thing you’ll learn is that the Maliks treat everyone like family. It’s super weird but amusing.”

“Interesting.”

“Yeah, now back to this beauty…”

Katie continued giving him a rundown of the technicalities of the car, making Harry super impressed with the capabilities of the vehicle. It wasn’t just four wheels and a motor, it was a lifestyle, almost. How rich was this family?

“How much is this car on the market?”

“Erm…80.000£, give or take.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “Shit.”

“It’s not even one of the most expensive ones, but you know…it’s good if you’re loyal to the brand.”

“Never drove an electric car before.”

“It’s the same thing, just…quieter.” She responded with a smile. “Always charge at the end of the day so it’s full for the following day. If you get stuck in a situation where you can’t charge it right away and you’re below 40%, think of it like a phone, and save as much energy as possible. But, if you charge it daily, you’ll prevent all of that.”

Katie went into more technical details like the volume of air inside the tires, pointing out the extra one inside the car. Also, the reflective vest and the emergency triangle are in the trunk. By the end of it, Harry was completely immersed in the car and the last thing to do was to take it for a spin.

“Final notes: no food nor drinks in the car. No liquid-scented things because it stains the leather; you can use one of those smelly trees, but do not hang it in the mirror – it looks fucking tacky, and this is a classy babe.” She added with a smirk. “She has sensors in the front and back, but always reverse slowly and always, always, look back. The camera tricks you into thinking you have more space, but you don’t. Any broken taillights come out of your pay.” Harry nodded. “Finally, do not have sex in the car. ”

Harry’s mouth fell open and frowned. “Erm…I wasn’t- “

“No one ever plans on it, but somehow…it happens. So, please, this baby is not for shagging. Not in it. Nor on top of it. Just don’t.” Katie underlined. “Got it?”

“Yes,”

Katie threw him the keys and Harry caught them with one hand.  “Take care of her.”

“I will.”

“Oh, another thing: She’s quite light on the pedals. It doesn’t take much to go over 100. Speeding tickets and traffic violations come out of your pay. Same if you get a parking ticket or if the car is blocked or toed – you pay it. Be careful not to scratch her when parking or turning, you’ll see she has a large front, and it might be hard to get a sense of dimension.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay!” She responded. “Welcome to the family. Do have fun!”

Harry held the key in his hand and gripped it tight. He was excited to drive a machine like this. He looked forward to a new job and a new chance in society. He would be better for himself, make better decisions and be a better man for what was to come. 

Even if he had no idea, the depth of his troubles and the only thing he wanted was to get behind the wheel of that beautiful car.

Chapter Text

Harry knew that some people were born with money. 

He knew of the 1%. He knew that these past years the gap between the ultra-rich and the poor had become only larger.

What he didn’t expect was for the gap to look at his face and spit right in his eye. 

Even though he had seven million pounds, secretly tucked away under the floorboards of his old, empty, and decrepit flat, he felt that was pocket change for these people. 

Standing at the front of the house, dressed in his new suit with a fresh haircut he felt…like a peasant. 

The house (or palace, maybe), which description was too ridiculous to even begin to enunciate, shouted luxury, money, and opulence. Three stories high, painted in soft white, with darkened roof, large windows, and a balcony on the second floor. It had three different sections, a garden as extensive as the eye could see, with trees and large patches of grass. Right in the front, a fountain acted as a small roundabout.

The Malik house was not the only one in this gated community. In that secretive stretch of road, there were other houses, every single one bigger than the next. The driver wondered who these families were.

Were these the type of folk that ruled the world? Had he somehow gotten into this weird crack in society and could peek behind the veil? 

“Good morning,” Harry turned to find a woman with caramel skin and long dark hair staring black. She wore an all-black, matching pants suit and stood as if she was in charge. “You must be the new driver.”

“Yes,” Harry responded. “Harry. Styles.”

“Mr Styles,” The woman greeted, showing her hand. “I’m Safira.”

Harry grabbed her hand and shook it firmly. “Pleasure,”

“Do accompany me, please.”

Leaving the car behind, Harry walked behind the woman, going around the house. The more he walked, the taller and more imponent the house seemed. Safira found a dark green door and pushed it open, holding it open for Harry. 

“Aside from the family, all staff movements inside and outside of the house are done through here,” The woman added. She kept going, leading Harry down a short hallway. Then she turned left into another corridor with doors on either side. Safira pushed open the first door on the right and showed Harry a small room. “We have small rooms in this area for emergencies. For instance, if you must take someone very early or come back late in the night, you can sleep here,” 

Safira entered the room, standing in the middle of it. It wasn’t very spacious - it was rather cosy in fact, with a single bed, a lamp, and a cupboard for items. There was another door in the back, which Safira pushed open showing a small bathroom. 

“The room has everything: towels, sheets, shampoo, soap - whatever you need. Feel free to bring any other item of importance to you. This doesn’t mean you’re an  in-house  driver, it's just something we have in case you don’t want to commute home after a long day.”

“That’s very thoughtful.”

“The room is yours, but of course, no visitations or pets. Also, if you do decide to stay over, do let me know so I can coordinate meals with the Chef.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Safira walked out of the bedroom and Harry followed. A few more steps down the hall, then another windowless hallway. From afar, Harry could smell the faint scent of coffee and soft chatter - he hadn’t had breakfast yet. He had been too nervous. 

“You will be driving Mrs Malik, correct?”

“Yes,” 

“Well, her days are usually light. Mrs Malik's main cause is the Foundation and that is where she spends most of her hours.”

“Yes, the Malik Foundation. Mrs Malik became the Head of the Administration board, after the divorce.” Safira paused for a second, looking at Harry. The driver paused, fearing he had crossed a line. “Sorry, I did a little bit of googling.”

Safira stood in front of Harry, blocking him from the path. “Let’s hear it then.”

“Trisha and Yaser Malik are the parents of Doniya, Zayn, Waliyha and Safaa Malik. The two were married for twenty years but have recently divorced. Yaser founded Innov Pharmaceuticals, one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in the UK, with offices in Europe, and North America, but mostly, in Asia - They develop medication for mental issues, with more focus on anxiety, depression, and sleep deprivation. Also develop work alongside several research facilities and hospitals, conducting countless research scenarios around the world. Consider themselves the leader in innovation for mental health awareness and treatability.”

‘Trisha created the Malik Foundation to help young teenagers from underprivileged families with several programs in the country and abroad. Trisha and Yaser divorced in 2015, in the complete division of the assets, leaving this house, the foundation, and a large sum of money to the wife. Recently, Yaser received a vote of no confidence from the board and was removed. Zayn Malik is the current CEO and Administrator of the pharmaceutical company. Saffaa, Doniya, and Waliyha are not actively involved in the company but do have seats on the Board, alongside other projects with the Foundation.”

Safira smirked at Harry admiring his thirst for acknowledgement. Harry cursed himself. Damned, be the days where he was to gather intel on marks and enemies for Louis. 

A habit he never really lost.

“Very well versed.”

“Apologies, I don’t mean to intrude or to sound nosy-”

“Not at all. I understand the need to know what you’re stepping into.” Safira looked at Harry for a moment, reading his face and his stance. “We run a background check on all our employees, Mr Styles. Michael guarantees you are a good professional, dependable and loyal. Good qualities, no doubt.” Safira added. Harry felt glued to the ground. “We believe in second chances and understand that people can change for the better. Giving trust is key for character improvement and behaviour.” 

The governess pushed a door close to her, entering a small room with a desk - her office. Reaching for the desk, Safira grabbed a piece of paper and handed it to Harry. The driver read the title of the document that said ‘Non-Disclosure and Confidentiality Agreement’, beneath it a row of text underlined all that Harry could not share, say, recount or even hint, to anyone he would ever hear or see whether at the Malik house, the company or whenever a sensitive conversation happened outside of the Malik Enterprise, which included family and staff. 

Breaking this agreement would give the family legality and the right to sue Harry for whatever amount of damages they decide and risk jail time. In the best-case scenario, Harry would go broke, unemployed, and drown in debt. Worst case scenario, he’d go to jail for breach of contract, espionage, defamation, and divulging private information. 

He had just come out and already the threat of returning behind bars loomed over him. 

“The Malik family is  very  private, Mr Styles.” The governess explained, showing him a pen. “If one is to work here, one must follow the rules. You may see or hear tempting information that the public would love to have a peek at - especially now, in times of turmoil. So, whatever you hear, or see, within these four walls remains here. No information comes out  unless  the family decides for whatever reason.”

“Do I have to sign this?”

“If you wish to work here, yes.”

“Can I take-”

“No, you cannot,” Safira added. “Sign here. We begin. Don’t worry you’re not giving away your soul or anything. As you can see there is no fine print at the bottom or watermark. Two pages as clear as can be.”

Harry skimmed to the page, then walked over to the desk and signed it - against his better judgment to show it to his solicitor. The driver gave the document back to Safira to sign as well and dated it. Once she was done, the woman smiled at him. 

“Come. Let’s introduce you to the rest of the team.”

Together they entered the largest and brightest kitchen Harry had ever seen. Maybe it was the fact that it was all white with darkened marble countertops, combined with the French windows overlooking the back garden and pool, but it just seemed full of light and wide.  

God, this is bigger than my entire flat! 

And it was. 

“This is Zora, the Chef.” Safira pointed to a woman dressed in white and standing by the stove. Zora smiled and waved at him. Safira pointed to the table where two men sat drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. “This is Jonathan and Rob, the other two drivers. Rob drives for the girls and Jonathan drives Mr Malik,”

“The father?” Harry asked. Last he had heard Yaser was not in England at all.

“The son,” Safira explained. “You will rotate your days off with them and, whenever necessary, cover who needs to be driven around.”

The two men greeted Harry and he waved back. A young woman walked into the kitchen holding a platter. Once she saw Harry, she slowed her pace and her mouth fell a little bit open. 

“Morning,” Harry greeted.

“Hi,” She blushed. 

“This is Camille,” Safira introduced. “One of the maids.”

The woman left the platter on the counter and fixed her uniform. “New driver, right?”

“Yes. Harry.”

“Hi,”

Harry smiled “Hello.”

The drivers chuckled lightly, and Camille returned to her professional self. 

“This is where we convey. We are all friends here and we all enjoy being together. Of course, it might be weird at first, but we are a good bunch,” Safira responded kindly. 

Then, before Harry had time to get accustomed to the idea, a woman with a beautiful face came into the kitchen. She wore a white silk robe with feather sleeves and made everyone stand for attention. 

“Has anyone seen my bag?” She asked, in the most casual of ways. 

“Have you seen in the office, Mrs Malik?” Safira asked. 

“I have. No idea where I left it.” The woman pondered, looking around. “I promise you, there’s a ghost moving my things around.”

“Perhaps the living room?” Camille suggested. “Under the pillows. I can check.”

“No, I checked it. Honestly, my mind is a mess…” Trisha stopped on Harry who was standing there like a pillar taking in the interaction. “Trisha Malik. Who are you?”

“Harry Styles,” He greeted. “Your new driver, Ma’am.”

Trisha grabbed her glasses, put them on her nose, and walked up to Harry. “Well, you’re tall! Have you eaten, dear?”

“No, no, not yet.”

“Now, now people. Is this the way we greet a new member? Zora fix him a plate,” Trisha ordered with kindness, the woman looped her arm on Harry’s and wandered around the kitchen. The driver was stunned but walked alongside her. “Listen, let me put you at ease: we may look posh and fancy; I may be wearing a silk robe with plumes and whatever, but at the end of the day, I have no idea where I put my bag. We are just like any other family, and we treat our staff like family. Whatever you need, don’t hesitate to ask. We are here for you. Right, folks?” Trisha asked and the kitchen agreed. “All of this to say, welcome. Don’t let the fancy cutlery fool ya. We are all bloody ridiculous in here, love.” 

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

“God, aren’t you lovely? My girls are going to eat you up. Don’t let them.” Once the turn around the massive kitchen was done, Trisha let him go. “All right, sit down, get your coffee and your eggs or whatever you wish, Zora will make - she’s amazing. I’ll be down in thirty minutes.”

“Now Mrs Malik,” Rob teased, “Is that a fair estimation? The lad is new here.”

The woman showed him a smile, which translated into the rest of the staff.

“Rob, once I  know what I’m wearing, I only take thirty minutes. You know this.” 

The room chuckled, as the woman walked out of the kitchen with her flip-flops echoing around. Harry was…surprised.

“She’s very nice,”

“That woman is the light of this house,” Rob responded. “Without her heart, this entire empire would crumble.”

****

Trisha did take more than thirty minutes indeed. Harry had enough time to have his coffee, some eggs, and toast. He talked to Rob and Jonathan who were friendly and more experienced.

They worked with the family since day 1 and had a close relationship with them all. As the minutes went by Harry eased into his new job, taking all of it in and becoming more observer than anything.

The job itself was rather relaxed and they explained that while the family was busy with whatever they did, the drivers could run short errands or pick up things from other places at their request - it wasn’t a job requirement, but the family gave so much, that it was natural for them to do a little extra for the family as well. It came naturally. 

The clock struck 09h30 and Safira entered the kitchen. 

“Jonathan, Mr Malik is ready for you in the office. Harry, you can wait for Mrs Malik outside. She will be headed to Mara Bella’s hair salon this morning, then for the Foundation.”

Jonathan grabbed his coat, wishing Harry a good morning and a fantastic first day. Rob remained seated reading his newspaper. 

“You’re not driving?” Harry asked, fixing his tie. 

“Not unless one of the girls wishes to go shopping or something,” The older man responded. “I’m an old horse. I only get out when I must, and they know that. I spend my time around the house, fixing things and looking out. I'm Safira's male equivalent.”

"Isn't that a duplication of work?"

"Nah., Rob responded with a shrug. "She looks better in heels and has a prettier smile. I'm just old."

"You ridiculous old man..." Zora added as she cleaned her station. She turned to Harry and smile "Rob has no immediate family, so the Maliks keep him around. He doesn't drive much. He's more of a caretaker. The girls sometimes drive themselves."

"As I said..." Rob shrugs. "An old horse."

Harry smiled at the man’s familiarity with the family. Drinking the rest of his coffee hastily, the young man fixed his clothes and walked back through the back of the house. 

Jogging towards the car, Harry unlocked it and sat behind the wheel finding the location. The panel was easy to navigate, so before he knew it the best route was coming up on the screen with an estimated time of arrival.

The driver looked at the map and had doubts if it was indeed the best route - Harry knew all the backends and narrow streets of London. He was almost certain he could get there faster, but he didn’t want to stir the pot on the first day. He would follow the GPS, even though he was certain he’d get there faster. 

Harry gave one final look inside the car to check if everything was in order: it looked clean, with no dust, the right station was on, and it smelled nice. Everything is ready for Mrs to come. 

Harry got out of the car and stood by its waiting patiently for the mother to come down. 

He waited. 

Waited a bit more under the morning sun.

A few more minutes until the front door opened and a Malik came down. Not the mother. 

The son. 

Harry was caught off guard by how handsome he was in real life. Zayn Malik came down the steps, speaking on the phone, sporting a dark grey suit with an impeccable tie. He had his forehead creased, dark shades, and a gold watch that sparkled in the sun. He spoke with a low volume, but he seemed concerned with something. 

Jonathan came around his car, a beautiful Bentley Continental black, opening the door for him. 

“Zayn!” A voice echoed. Harry saw Mrs Malik come down the steps, dressed beautifully and Zayn waited for her, holding his call. “Leaving already? Have you eaten?”

“I need to go, mum,” Zayn answered, dropping a kiss on her cheek. “I have a lot of work to do for the upcoming board meeting. Have the boxes arrived from the office?”

“I’ll check. If they have, I’ll send them over.”

“Thank you. I must run.”

“Don’t overwork, darling. It’s not worth it.”

“I promise.” 

“Oh! Have you met my new driver?”

Zayn turned to Harry and the driver lost all sense of self. It was one thing to admire him at a distance, or from a screen, another to have Zayn Malik remove his designer glasses to face him.

The man was stunning. Even though he squinted, his eyes showed hints of green and honey colour. His beard was perfectly trimmed, his hair combed back to perfection and the soft scent of his perfume came to his nose.

The young Malik looked at Harry for an extra second and then greeted him with a sharp nod. 

“Welcome to the family,”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Take care of her,” Zayn ordered softly. “She’s my favourite jewel and we’d be lost without her.”

 The CEO dropped one last kiss to his mother and then walked to his car, continuing his conversation on the phone. Zayn got into the back, Jonathan closed the door, and seconds later he was driving down the pathway. 

“Your son is a busy man,” Harry commented, chaperoning Mrs Malik to the car. 

“He works too much,” The woman lamented, getting inside the car. “I wish he’d take some time off and just be happy, but…someone has to take the wheel.” 

Mrs Malik was a very at-ease client. She enjoyed the radio and loved to casually chit chat. Harry noticed she was very curious, but it was a matter of subtlety. The traffic was very friendly that morning and Harry drove through streets he already knew very nicely. 

“So, Harry, tell me about yourself.”

“Erm…” Harry looked at the rear-view mirror and let out a short smile. “Well, I’m Harry. I’m 29. I’m your driver, Mrs Malik.”

“Children?”

“No,”

“Married?”

“No.”

"Divorced?"

“Not really, no.”

“Please tell me, you’re single - I wouldn’t take it if it were something more dramatic.” 

“Yes,” Harry responded. “Very single.”

“No girlie out here occupying your heart?”

Harry wasn’t particularly fond of opening up about his preferences. He had always been pretty fluid, loving all beautiful things: Men, women, and everything in between. He wasn’t ashamed of who he was or his choices, but he didn’t see the benefit of sharing such an aspect on the first day of work. 

“No,” 

“Oh, we’ll have to fix that. You’re too handsome to be alone,” Trisha added looking out the window. “If I’m being too nosy, do tell me. It’s an involuntary thing. I always want to know about the people who work for my family because…well, you will be spending a lot of time with us, so it’s fair we know you as well. But, if I ever make you feel uncomfortable, do say so.”

“Will do, Mrs Malik.”

Another pause as Harry rolled closer to his destination. They would be arriving in three minutes, already counting for the traffic lights up ahead. Harry stopped the car, waiting for the light to turn green.

“How long were you in jail?” The question caught him off guard, so much so that Harry didn’t dare move. He faced ahead, not even looking up at the rear-view mirror. “Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Are you uncomfortable with my question?”

The driver looked at the woman in the backseat. Her intention seemed genuine. She looked curious, but not malicious. 

“No,” Harry added. “Five years, ma’am.”

“Quite a journey inside," Trisha added. “Are you sorry for what you did?”

The driver readjusted himself in his seat thinking of a politically correct reply. 

“I’m sorry for the pain I caused my mother.”

“Are you two not speaking?”

“Not since I went inside.”

“Why?”

“I told her not to,” Harry responded naturally. “I didn’t want her to see me, so I just…didn’t show whenever she came to visit, and eventually, she understood.” 

“Were you punishing yourself or her?”

The driver gripped the wheel a little more. “Me. Never her. I had…people look after her. I knew she’d be okay.” 

“Have you seen her since you got out?”

“No,”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know how to.” 

Trisha Malik took his answer in silence. The woman sat in the backseat, looking out the window and admiring the urban landscape. The car was silent for a moment. The light turned green and the cars ahead of the Jaguar began to move forward.

“Thank you,” Harry added. Trisha looked back at him with curiosity. “For not asking what I did or why I did it or  if  I did it.”

“Oh, I know what you did,” Trisha added. “I just don’t see the point in digging the knife deeper. You did your time. You’re out and working. I work with a lot of young men and adults who have seen the inside of a jail and I can tell you rehabilitation is possible. It’s a matter of want and you want it. Besides, where could I get a driver who is as charming as you and as eager to make amends? Maybe I just leave you with a final word?”

Harry nodded, rolling the car forward down the street. 

“Do reach out to your mother,” Harry’s heart tightened with sorrow. “I’m sure she misses you and loves you very much. She had lost a son, now he’s back - you should reconnect.”

“I will,” Harry responded, with his lips but not having the sentiment mirrored in his heart. The shame was still too great. The driver turned the wheel, parking on the side of the road. “We’re here.”

He got out of the car, fixed his suit, and went around the front to open the door to Mrs Malik. Like a gentleman, Harry held out his hand and the woman took it, showing her fantastic pear-shaped pink engagement ring - more expensive than Harry’s entire life.

They stood in front of Maura’s saloon and Trisha seemed very pleased. 

“Leave the car. Come with me.” Harry locked the vehicle, then followed the woman to the salon “One thing you need to know about me, and my family is that we are not vindictive. Nor petty. Or bitter. We believe in letting things go. Even when we are harmed - or at least, I have tried my best to teach that to my children. Don't hold it against me.

I believe keeping certain feelings within is bad for the body: ulcers, body aches, wrinkles, and grey hair are not the look people think it is.’ Trisha Malik stopped just outside of the saloon staring at Harry. “ However,  sometimes those nasty actions are necessary. Sometimes people see your kindness and easiness to let certain aspects of your life go and mistake them for…weakness. Easy manipulation. Extortion. Not us. Never us. The key is knowing the right moment and always hitting them where it hurts.” 

Trisha pushed the salon’s door open, and Harry followed. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he was inside a hairdresser establishment or a museum of some sort.

Everything was super clean, tidy, visually harmonious, and…quiet. Everything was so quiet. Despite the women under the hairdryers, with tinfoil in their hair or masks on their faces. It was oddly quiet, with women speaking low and moving slowly. 

Surreal. 

Trisha stood in the middle of the saloon eying the woman around her, who also quieted down the moment she stepped in. 

“Trisha,” A woman with too much makeup came from the back, with her arms open. Harry stood a few feet behind his client, watching the woman begin to whisper amongst themselves - he felt they were talking about Trisha. “How lovely to see you-”

“Stop right there, Mara,” Trisha demanded with seriousness. The whispering stopped as well. “You and I have been working together for years now and you always raved about how special this place was. How anyone could feel comfortable, enjoy their privacy, and be respected? For years that was the narrative you created for this space-”

“And it’s true-”

“Is it?” Trisha asked, stepping forward. “So, you have not been speaking to reporters about matters of my family?”

The room went dead. Trisha cocked her head to the side demanding an answer. The owner of the saloon went another shade of white Harry had never seen before. 

“That’s…That’s not…”

“True?” Trisha asked. “Darling, please… I’m rich, but I’m not an idiot.” 

“Trisha, I can explain-”

“Unfortunately, I will no longer be associated with this place.” Mrs Malik announced without skipping a beat. “I cannot frequent a place where issues that are discussed in confidence, find the papers the next morning.” Trisha looked at the women around her. “If you want to stay in a place that is unreliable and easily corrupted by a few pounds, that’s on you. But know that the Malik family no longer has you in high regard and you are putting yourself up to be a headline as soon as the opportunity rises.” 

Mrs Malik then grabbed her sunglasses and placed them on her face. She gave one final glare to the woman, then turned around. Harry moved to the door, opening it for her, as she strolled out clicking her heels. 

The driver looked back and shrugged.

“Cheers, then.” 

Harry met the woman outside, and she had a tiny smirk on her lips. 

“How much of a badass am I?”

“Pretty badass. Mrs Malik.”

“That’ll teach her.” She responded. “I like you, Harry. You indulge in these little moments of mine. You’re fun.”

“I just held the door for you, Ma’am.”

“And that’s more than enough.” Trisha walked back to the car. “Come on, I’ve had my morning gym and onwards to the Foundation. The world still needs to be a better place despite my little moments.”

****

The Malik Foundation building was an architectural beauty. Created to do charitable work, it dabbled in the worlds of arts, music, literature, and social work with endangered groups. Known for its beautiful gardens with amazing pieces of work, a small lake, and a natural auditorium, all and one were welcome to wander the premises.

The building itself had a few rooms for exhibits, a large auditorium, a library, a gift shop, and offices on the second and third floors. Harry had heard about it, but never wandered around it - it didn’t seem he belonged in such a place. 

He passed the gates, drove up the slope, and parked the car right in front of the main entrance of the building. Again, he helped Trisha out of the car, holding her bag, and handed it over to her. 

“Have you ever been here?”

“Not really.”

“Well, let me give you a tour, then-”

“Oh, there’s no need, I’ll just-”

"Nonsense!" Trisha looped her arm around Harry’s and pulled him into the building. “Five minutes. Let's go.”

Trisha led young Harry all around the premises of the Foundation. The mother showed him the beautiful gardens, the museum area, the cafes, the auditorium - every single nook and cranny of the space. She never let go of Harry’s arm, holding him close and welcoming him. The young man felt loved and cared for. He wondered if he was worthy of such a welcoming visit. 

Heading to the second floor, they entered the administration office where Trisha introduced him as his driver and said ‘they’d see a lot of Harry around’ which he found curious, given he still had a two-week experimental period. 

Trisha pushed the doors open to her office and Harry was astounded by the size and elegance of it. Trisha had large windows on both sides, one facing the garden where one could see the gardeners doing some work and to the street where the cars rushed by, and people walked on. 

The woman placed her purse on the desk and turned to Harry looking at him with a smile. 

“So, what do you think?”

“It’s lovely, Ma’am. I’ve never been here.”

“Now, you’ll be here often,” Trisha smiled. “Listen, I don’t believe in the experimental period, I am all for heart and gut feeling. I have a feeling that you’re good and dedicated. I trust you, Harry. You’ve indulged in my small demonstration of pettiness, you’re a great conversationalist, interested and observant. I like that about you. I want you to be with us and work for us…if you want, of course.”

“Of course,” Harry responded. “I have no complaints, thus far.”

“ Thus far, ” The woman repeated with a smirk. “To celebrate your welcome, I’ll ask Zora to cook something nice and we’ll all enjoy it.”

Harry panicked for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“We always welcome people from the staff on their first day, so they can know the family. You’re going to be spending a lot of time with us, it’s the least we can do.”

“I’ve…I’ve never heard of that before seems…odd.”

“I know. People think that the uber-rich are a bunch of snot-nosed children with a God complex.” Trisha added, removing her blazer. “They might be, but we are real people. We worked a lot to get here, but we haven’t forgotten where we came from. I was a maid back in the day, my ex-husband worked in construction…We all have a path. In one blink of an eye and all of this could be gone…So, we are kind and fair to everyone. We’re not perfect! Far from it, but…we care, and we work together. Just like a family.” 

Harry felt welcomed. In all honesty, he had no one left and spent most of his time alone. So perhaps this would be a good thing.

“Thank you. I’ll be there.”

“Great!”

A knock on the door got both their attention. A young woman dressed in black came forward, into the office. 

“Excuse me, Mrs Malik, the boxes from the international office have arrived.”

Behind the woman, a delivery man came carrying a trolley with a total of five cardboard boxes written ‘CLASSIFIED’ in red marker.

Harry looked back at Trisha who seemed tense and preoccupied - her niceties had vanished. Suddenly, the wrinkles in her face became apparent as did the bags under her eyes. 

“Right,” She responded, looking at the boxes for an extra second. Then, she snapped back into reality, looking at Harry. “Have them take it down to the car. Harry will leave them at the company.”

“Certainly,” the assistant replied, walking the man out of the office.

“Is everything okay?” Harry asked. 

Trisha looked at him with a wide smile, that came back on her lips, but not in her eyes. 

“Everything is fine,” She added. “Usually, I leave around 04h00 pm unless I have some sort of a late meeting. You can come around that time.” Harry agreed, making his way out of the office. “Harry?” The driver stopped by the door, looking at his client. Trisha had her warm smile again. “Welcome to the family.”

It sounded odd, but Harry felt loved and welcomed. He replied with a warm smile, leaving Trisha Malik to her day’s work. 

The Innov Pharmaceuticals building was smack in the middle of the business sector. A tall building with 12 floors, mirrored and intimidating - impossible to miss. Harry parked the car out in front, got out, and walked into the building trying hard not to feel inadequate or out of place. He headed towards the reception and announced he had some boxes for Mr Malik. 

The security guard picked up the phone, informed someone else, and then asked Harry to hold for a moment. The driver paced around in the lobby, looking at the entrance of the building designed with style and elegance.

People came and went, talking in pairs or on the phone, doing business, or moving the company forward through strategic moves. He was never into the corporate lifestyle. He thought of it as boring and where fun went to die, however, he understood the importance that certain businesses had in moving the economy forward. 

He was sure, his mother wished he had gone into the corporate world and not into crime. It would save a world of pain. 

A man, which Harry assumed to be one of the maintenance people, came with a trolley and followed him to the car. Together, they carried the heavy boxes and piled them on top of one another. Harry was surprised to feel how heavy they were. Who knew paper could weigh so much? 

“Finally!” A man shouted close to them, as they piled the last two boxes. “These came from the office?”

Harry looked at him, seeing the man with a white shirt with rolled sleeves and dark pants. He had sandy brown hair and piercing blue eyes and seemed very interested in the boxes. 

“Yes,” Harry responded. “They were delivered at the Foundation. Mrs Malik ordered them to be taken here.”

“Great,” The man responded, looking at the maintenance man. “Take those to the board meeting room, we’re camping there. Zayn is waiting.” The worker pushed the trolley away from them leaving the two behind. Harry pulled the backdoor down and was preparing to go back to the house. “Hey, you’re the new driver, right?”

Harry turned to the man and nodded “Yes. I’m Harry Styles. I’m driving Mrs Malik.”

The man shot out his hand and smiled “Niall Horan. CFO.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Been a driver for long?”

“In general, yes. For Mrs Malik, I just started today.”

“Congratulations,” Niall added. “I’m sure you will be very much welcome. Has she told you about dinner?”

“Yes. I had no idea it was a thing.”

“The Maliks are very welcoming,” Niall commented, pocketing his hands, and quietly accessing Harry. The driver felt he was being measured. “Hope you do a better job than the last lad. Had a bit of a loose tongue that one.”

“I gain nothing from sharing inside information,”

“We hope not,” Niall responded. “The Maliks are very fond of their privacy and do not wish to be the talk of the town.”

“I see that’s a common thread,”

“It happens more than you think. Especially now, in a transition period.” Horan added, watching Harry with a smirk. “I must run. It was nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

Harry walked to the other side of the car but stopped when Niall whistled at him. Looking over his shoulder he saw Niall with a smile.

“Welcome to the family, Styles.”

Then, the CFO left him, returning to his business. 

It was the third time someone said that sentence to him. At that moment, Harry wondered what on Earth had he gotten himself into.

Previous works:

Calamity, Fine Line, I'm Not My Fathers Son, You Got the Cinema (short)

Chapter Text

Zayn Malik got up from his chair and marched down the hall to the board meeting room.

They had been camping over there for weeks now, ever since he had taken over as the new CEO after a rebellion against his father. The saying 'heavy is the head that wears the crown' never rang truer for the young man, who now had a responsibility to save his family legacy.

His father had made some bad decisions, and awful deals, leaving the company skinnier than before and under the dreadful fate of bankruptcy. They were struggling. And it was time to cut.

Also, that was not even the beginning of his problems.

Aside from the bad investments that turned little to no profit, with the dread of bankruptcy, the company was leaking money.

Somewhere, somehow, the numbers were coming up short and that leakage needed to be dealt with. Once the leak was found, everything else needed to be controlled - suppliers, partners, vendors - all those areas needed to be renegotiated, so some of the money could return to the company. Then, and only after none of these solutions worked, firing people would come to the table.

Pushing the door, he found Niall staring at a whiteboard full of numbers. In total there were seven white boards, full of numbers, circled with red and green ink. On the large table, boxes upon boxes of paper were proof of the company's history and paper trail.

The two had been working in this room for a while now, completely shut off from the rest of the company; the blinds were pulled down, the door closed and only Niall, Zayn, and one other assistant could come in.

They would come in early and leave late. The more they dug, the worse they felt, and Zayn was on the verge of despair.

"So? What did you find?"

"Nothing," Niall answered, reading the sheet in front of him. "Yet."

"Which ones came from the international office?"

"Those," Niall pointed to a few open carton boxes, but he wouldn't go near them - afraid of what he could find. "You'd think we are owed some good news by now. Nope. Not at all."

Zayn stood next to his friend, looking at the boards.

"I'm panicking,"

"Don't panic yet, brother," Niall responded, tossing the sheet aside. "We know we are losing money; we just need to find the leak."

"Just being the keyword here."

"If it were easy, it wouldn't be half as fun."

"Have you added the info from the boxes?"

"Not all of it. It's a lot of paper, but..." Niall added, looking up at the board "As you can see the red circles are in charge."

Zayn looked over the board, seeing the numbers circled in red. "The last thing I need is to declare bankruptcy after taking the Chair. It would be the end of all of this, and I would be a fucking joke."

"It's not your fault the system was broken when you got it."

"I got it because it was broken," Zayn added, "Years of this, right under our fucking eyes and he didn't do shit."

"We're going to find it. I got my best people on it."

"What?" Zayn asked with a frown. "I told you I wanted it contained-"

"Relax, they are discreet," Niall assured. "They'll come by later today after everyone's gone and look through everything with fresh eyes. I'll be here too. I know it's here somewhere screaming at our faces."

The CEO walked back to the large table, leaning against it.

"How could he allow this? It's his life's work and he fucked everything up."

"Do you think he knew? Your dad."

"I want to think he didn't, but at this point, I don't know. You're the boss and you don't know if your company is losing money? Unlikely."

"He's a selfish bastard," Niall looked over. "No offence."

"None taken."

The CFO sat next to his friend, the two looking at the boards with all the numbers. The mission was bigger than they thought and it seemed never-ending.

"We need to start considering-"

"I'm not considering that-"

In light of the company losing money, options were brought to the table to contain the damage to the best of their abilities. Contrary to popular belief, Zayn Malik did not follow the idea of firing people as a first response - that was the last, last, resort.

He knew every single employee at the company, they had good job policies and were a family business - firing anyone, whether they'd be sales, marketing or cleaning would be too harsh of a blow.

Also, it would cause panic, begin rumours, and drop morale, neither was helpful at this stage. The change in administration had left some people on high alert already and he needed to demonstrate that everything was under control.

"Zayn, if this is bigger than we think we might have to fire people."

"I'm not doing that, Niall. We have people who have been with us since day 1."

"And will forever be loved and appreciated," The CFO added, "If this is too big to be contained with just tightening things around here, we must let people go. And not just 10 or 20. I'm talking more than a 100, or more, across the board, Zed, and significant salary cuts for those who stay. No more bonuses, company cars, credit cards...all that shit that makes our company the best, will go out the window. We might get lucky with some early retirement propositions and settlements, but most of them will probably have to go empty-handed."

"I'm not doing that-"

"Yeah, it sucks, but you probably will." The CEO looked at the board and all Zayn could see were the red circles trumping the green ones. "Unless we can fix this money leak, your company will go down, brother. You need to be proactive about that. Not only that but our asses will also be put on the line - especially me because I'm the CFO."

"It didn't begin with you. Simon was CFO before you." Zayn scratched his neck feeling overwhelmed with everything. "Can we put a pin on that-"

"Zayn-"

"Just..." Zayn got up from his seat, reasoning with his friend. "Just until we, at least, locate the leak. We find it, we act accordingly."

"You're putting a band-aid on a bazooka injury, mate. You can see that the leak is big - look at the numbers."

"Yeah, but...it's all I got. One thing I learned from my father was to wait until the weather cleared so I could see the road ahead. That's what I'm doing. Waiting for the weather to clear."

Niall gave up the argument, instead looking up at the board for the one-hundredth time, hoping to magically see something off.

"Do you know who keeps calling me?" Zayn hummed, diverting his attention to the papers on the boxes. "Ben."

The CEO paused for a moment as his heart skipped a beat for a second.

Ben.

Beautiful Ben.

Gorgeous Ben.

Liar Ben.

"Hm..." Zayn added. "Didn't know you were so close to the help."

"Whoa, that sounded horrible coming from you," Niall commented, returning to stand next to his friend. "You sounded like a bloody WASP. What, you're going to trash talk gay rights, vomit a racist comment, or preach that traditional marriage is dead?"

"I'm sorry. I just...I don't want to talk about Ben or to Ben."

"Still hurting?"

"Niall-"

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry." The CFO replied. "If it helps, I haven't picked up the phone."

"Thank you."

Zayn refocused on the sheets of paper, reading the numbers and projections time and time again. He tried hard to push Ben's smile out of his memory.

"Met your new driver today."

"I don't have a new driver."

"You do," Niall argued. Zayn frowned, looking at his friend. "Harry," the CEO blinked, not understanding. "The new driver!" Zayn shrugged, looking lost. "The bloke driving for you mum. Tall, dark-haired, and green eyes."

"Got a good look at him, huh?"

"Oh, right because you're blind?"

"I'm not into looking at anyone right now, only at numbers." Zayn returned to the spreadsheet, flipping the page. "And he's driving my mum, not me. So, he's not my new driver."

"You're paying him," Niall added, but Zayn ignored the comment. "He seems very kind. Something about the eyes."

"Niall-"

"I'm just saying. I have eyes on my face and no problem complimenting another man."

"You do have eyes on your face, and they can spot how handsome the new driver is, but not spot a money leak in the company."

"So, you did look."

"What?"

"I never said he was handsome." Zayn dropped the sheet on the table and walked away from his friend, already done with this line of conversation. "I'll be here, bud."

Zayn grabbed the door but pointed at his friend. "Let me know if those eyes of yours find something interesting."

****

Zayn walked back to his office feeling his head already bubbling with problems and zero solutions. He hadn't had a proper night's sleep since getting the chair, nor a proper meal, he couldn't stomach it - he was too anxious.

Every day he found a new problem, a new challenge, and no answers. It was enough to drive someone mad. He didn't want the crown. He never wanted any of this, he was virtually pushed by his mother to take the wheel and now risked sinking everything.

He wanted to smoke, but he had ordered his assistant to hide his cigarettes, so instead, he picked up the habit of coffee. Little doses of espresso throughout the day, which again, didn't help with his sleep or rest. He was a walking ball of anxiety and uncertainty.

He pushed the door to his office and stopped. Standing by his tall windows, and looking out into the distance, was someone he couldn't consider a friend or a colleague.

"Jeff,"

The businessman turned to find Zayn and smiled. His smile sent a shiver down the young CEO's spine, and he tried to keep his composure.

"Zayn! Morning."

"What are you doing here? I thought I would be seeing you in a couple of weeks for the meeting."

"Decided to pop in earlier to check on things,"

Jeff was one of the oldest and more powerful board members - he had been the company's COO up until recently. The man resigned shortly after Yasser's removal as chairman and CEO, leaving the role of chief operations officer vacant. Another hat Zayn had to put on.

Zayn and Jeff were always cordial with one another. They were further of best friends or close, but the young man always kept a sane distance. Jeff also never came out of his way after Zayn took the helm of the company. Therefore, having Jeff casually wandering in his office was off his character.

"I see,"

"How are things?"

"Fine," Zayn responded, keeping his door open, but walking to his desk. "All is good."

"I heard you and Niall have a secret project cooking."

"Nothing secret about it."

"Can I know of it, then?"

"No," Zayn responded, sitting down, and turning on his computer. The CEO pretended to read emails, while Jeff paced in front of him. "Nothing to bother you with."

"I just want to be of service-"

"You are a valuable member of our administration, but on this topic Niall and I got it."

"You are young, Zayn. As the face of the company, you must keep doors open and build bridges. Even with people, you might not like."

"I have nothing against you or any other person on our board of administration, Jeff. Many of you were here before I even knew how to walk. It's just a project Niall and I are working on. You'll hear about it in due time. Thank you for your dedication and presence, as always."

"You'll go further in this company if you collaborate with the rest of us, Zayn," Jeff advised with a smile. Zayn turned to the former COO, who watched him closely with a grin. "We all want you to thrive. This company will thrive. Because if you fail...then, we all fail and it's the end of a legacy. No one wants that."

"Great," Zayn answered. "I am sure we'll do great things together."

With nothing more to add, the businessman walked out of the room at a calm pace.

As soon as he was out of sigh, Zayn finally took a deep breath and leaned back on his chair.

"Shit..." He mumbled.

Sometimes, the young CEO, felt he was navigating an ocean full of sharks ready to take a bite at his ankle. Plotting and hoping he'd fail somehow. It was exhausting fighting silent threats all around him.

A head peaked into his office as his assistant whispered, "Was that Jeff?"

"Yes,"

"No wonder it got so cold so fast," Denise entered the office, closing the door behind her. The woman had been Yaser's assistant. Now, she was Zayn's confidant and he was glad to have someone like her by his side. "What did he want?"

"Put his dick on my table."

"Gross," The assistant replied. "Did you and Niall find anything?"

"No," Zayn responded, opening, and closing a drawer. "It's harder than I thought. Whoever was taking money did so in small instalments, through different budgets, and different accounts, and moved the money fast - and it's still doing it. Whoever it is is skilled and knows how to manipulate the numbers so it doesn't raise any red flags."

"You'll catch it."

"Niall will have some people over. People he trusts. Another set of fresh eyes might help." Zayn turned to the side, continuing to open drawers, and rummaging through. "Where are my cigarettes?"

"Tossed them."

"Why?"

"You told me to."

Zayn closed the drawer and looked at his secretary. "Can I have them back?"

"Not a chance," The assistant handed him over some papers. "For you."

"What's this?"

"New driver's contract," Zayn grabbed the pages looking at them. Harry Edward Styles was his name - curious, to say the least. "Your mum adores him, by the way."

"My mum adores everyone, which makes it hard for her to be objective."

"I know, but she does," Denise responded with a smile. "Said he was smart, kind, and handsome. Wants him to be on payroll right away - no trial period."

"Mum loves an ex-con..."

"Be fair now." Denise underlined. Zayn grabbed his pen and signed his last sheet. "He is special."

"Have you seen him?"

"I peeked down when he came to drop the boxes. He looked strong too - girls on the lower floor said he had these eyes-."

"He started working today," Zayn mumbled, handing over the contract. "Let's all cool our jets here before swooning over the lad because of his pretty eyes."

"He does have pretty eyes-"

"I need my cigarettes."

"No," Denise grabbed the contract and turned to walk out of the office. "You told me to not give you the cigarettes, even if you were, and I quote ' sobbing like a baby, with snot on your nose and scratching like a crackhead-"

"It was a metaphor-"

"Keep those bloody things away from me. For each day I don't smoke, I'll give you 20£."

"I don't recall that part. Did I tell you that? I didn't tell you that."

"You did,"

"Denise-"

"You have a call with the Singapore office in ten minutes," The secretary opened the door and smiled. "You're doing great. Chew some gum."

****

When Zayn was offered the position as the new CEO and chairman he was caught off guard. He had been working in the company for some time now, enjoying his position as a project manager; He had a small group of researchers focused on medication for anxiety and trying to find solutions with fewer chemicals and more natural elements. He liked his position. He liked his team.

Of course, his dream job didn't involve anything remotely in the world of pharmaceuticals - his drawer was full of sketches and creative doodles he'd make whenever he was bored out of his mind, but he was good at his job. He understood that it was his role, as a Malik, to take on the family business and he would fulfil his duty, the best he knew how.

So, when the hour came for him to come forward, his entire world shook. Not only because of the position but because it came out of nowhere.

He got home after a day at the office, dropping his belongings by the door. He expected to see his family having a good time, but he saw something else: People he hadn't seen in a long time, sitting alongside his mother and Niall. As he entered the living room, he recognized some of the people menders of the board of administration at his father's company.

"Evening..."Zayn could feel the tense environment. "Mum? Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine, sweetheart. Come. Take a seat. We need to talk."

Zayn eyed Niall, who was still by his mother and seemed serious. The young man sat at one of the empty chairs and the rest did the same.

"Niall, if you please..."

Niall cleared his throat, taking a second before speaking.

"As you know, Zed I was recently nominated as CFO. It was the biggest honour and privilege your father could ever put on me. I will never be able to repay such a level of trust."

"You deserved it, bud," Zayn added. "You're great."

"Thank you," Niall proceeded. "So, soon after I took this new position, I got the necessary information from Simon. We worked closely in the transition period, where he showed me the ropes, you know? Eventually, he let go of the wheel and I took the job alone.

'When he was officially retired, I was already all in - he did a great job setting me on the right path. However,..." Niall moved in his chair, rubbing his palms together. "I began noticing something odd with the numbers. Not only the general numbers but from the departments as well.'

'Very...different from the results I'd get when I did the math, you know? At first, I thought well someone must've put a 2 instead of a 3 because they're so close on the keyboard or moved a decimal point - mistakes happen and we are all human. But it was one thing to catch these mistakes once or twice...'

'I caught them several times, Zayn. Across the board. Small amounts. Enough to raise a red flag that it wasn't just an accident - it was deliberate. So, in my innocence, I went to Simon and pointed it out. It was odd, after all. Maybe he didn't see it, he had been the CFO for so long that the numbers all look the same.'

'He told me to, quote, ' not make waves. You just got on, son. Some things just are what they are - which is a major red flag. That is not supposed to happen in a company this big. With an answer like that it was obvious that something was off. So, I decided, discreetly, to just...ask for an independent audit. No one knew. Just me. I had a team come in, they ran through the numbers, and not even a day later it came..." Niall grabbed a folder and handed it to Zayn who took it. "The company is leaking money."

Zayn opened the folder looking at the report from the audit. He was floored at this revelation.

"Small amounts here and there, but noticeable if one dares to dig. Whoever did this is...smart."

"Who did?" Zayn asked. "Do we have someone?"

"No," Niall continued. "That's when it becomes tricky. I feel this is deeper than I can see. I've only shown this to your mother, as she's a board member and now with esteemed members present here. Nor Simon, Yaser, or Jeff know."

"Why not?" Zayn frowned.

"Zayn," My mother called. "Your father is the CEO, Jeff the COO, and Simon the CFO - do you honestly think neither of them noticed this?"

Zayn looked around the room sensing something was brewing ahead of him. He dropped the report on the table, staring at his mother across the room.

"What are you saying?"

"I fear your father if he didn't do it, at least helped in the process," Trisha added with a cold tone. "We weren't in the best position before with all the bad decisions we've made by buying smaller companies and investing wrongly, with this leak we're even worse. All the profit we've ever had is slowly being drained from the company and disappearing into someone's pocket."

"What are we doing then?"

Another moment of pause. Zayn's mother turned to an older gentleman, sitting close to her. Zayn had seen him a couple of times but didn't remember his name.

"We are planning to move forward with a vote of no confidence against Yaser," He announced. "Then, taking Simon and Jeff from the board altogether, if possible."

"And pushing you as the new Chair," Trisha added. "You'll take Yaser's place as the new Chairman, you'll be back by Niall and we'll find someone to manage the operations."

Zayn scoffed and immediately let out a "No," The young Malik looked around the room, seeing how serious everyone looked. Even Niall. "No! You are crazy. No. I'm not doing it."

"Zayn-"

"I said no!" He insisted. "Ask someone else. Not me. The level of betrayal...I can't do that. I won't do that. Push someone else."

"There's no one else."

"I'm not doing it!" Zayn declared. "I'd be stabbing him in the back and that is not what we do. We should sit down and resolve this, first as a company and then, as a family. I'm not stabbing my dad like this."

"I don't think you understand the level of this," Niall added softly. "Brother, this is...this is going to affect everything. If we don't fix this now; don't move right now, we'll have months before the situation is out of control and we must take drastic measures. If we don't put a stop to this, Zed, you stand to lose everything."

Zayn got up from his seat, feeling confused and distraught.

"I need to think-"

"There's no time to think," Trisha continued. "We've scheduled an extraordinary meeting for tomorrow. We're doing it."

"Mum, no!"

"Yes," Trisha stood up. "It is settled, you're going to take his place."

"I need a moment-"

"Zayn-"

"I need a fucking moment!" Trisha remained silent, allowing him to have this moment of weakness. "Excuse me."

Feeling the walls crashing around him, the young man stepped outside in the cold night, to take a breather. Not only was the task too great, but he was asked to be a part of a coup d'état against his father. He couldn't do that.

Pacing back and forth, he tried to find the best solution for a problem he didn't even know existed until five minutes ago.

He looked back at the steps seeing Niall standing there

"Not now," Zayn ordered, going away from the home. "I said I need time"

"You don't have it." Niall came down behind him. "We need to act-"

"Do you understand the level of betrayal you're asking of me?"

"I get it-"

"No, you don't!"

"Okay, enough! Stop fucking about!" Niall ordered and Zayn stood in shock at his friend's adamant position. "We don't have time for this. Your company is leaking money and if we don't remove your father, and anyone who could be involved, soon there will be nothing left and you're going to have to sell for parts. I'm sorry, this is a lot, but it needs to be done. You need to take your dad out and Jeff too."

"Niall, I'm not...I don't know...I wouldn't know where to begin as the head of the company. I don't know what to do! My father has been doing it-"

"And now he has to stop." Niall cut in. "Listen, I'm your CFO, with you at the head we only need a third party, a good COO, to keep us afloat. We have good people.'

'You have the votes, the five people in there will vote for you, they believe that they influence others, so you'll get a majority. Then, it's done, and we begin to fix whatever is going on. No one will even notice."

Zayn felt exasperated, panicking at the thought.

"Niall, I'm-"

"You're going to be great, brother." Niall came closer, grabbing Zayn by the arms. Above the steps Trisha came out, staring at the two of them, but not saying a word. "If anyone could do it, it would be you. I'll always be at your side. You're not alone."

Staring at his mum, who gave him an encouraging look, Zayn folded. In a matter of minutes, he went from a project manager with a small team in the basement to the main man sitting on top of the throne. A quick, and scary ascension.

His mother hugged him once he had made peace with his decision and assured him everything would be fine. Niall stood beside him, at his right side, protecting and supporting him through it all. The board members in the living room all agreed to vote for him and to sway any others.

So, the following day, at 10h00am, in the boardroom, Niall announced the only order of business. Zayn kept quiet through the entire process, sending short glances at his father who also did not add any more information. Simon argued for his life, while Jeff kept silent just watching the game unfold.

After arguing back and forth two motions were set forward: the first was to decide whether the three men would stay as acting members of the board. The majority decided to keep them, but Zayn suspected it was because both Jeff and Simon pulled big moves and influence within the company, not because of their pretty eyes. The second vote was to decide Yaser's fate as CEO and Zayn as a successor. Aside from Simon and Jeff, who didn't vote, the rest of the members all raised their hands.

Just like that, Yaser had been dismissed and Zayn was the new boss.

Once the voting was done, Simon and Jeff stormed out, dealing with the offence, but Yaser remained seated. Zayn received strong handshakes from the board members. Niall hugged him tightly, then walked out of the board room, following the rest. Trisha kissed him fondly, giving him congratulations. On her way out, she placed one hand on Yasser's shoulder and the businessman kissed her hand - they remained friendly and close despite the divorce.

At last, the Malik father and son stood a table apart. Without saying a word, the businessman got up, walked over to his son, and gave him a strong hug.

"I'm sorry," Zayn whispered while holding his dad. "I didn't want-"

"I'm glad you did," Yaser replied. "Better you than anyone else and Niall is a good right-hand man."

Yaser smiled at him, kissing him on the forehead. Then, he left the boardroom and Zayn had more questions than answers.

****

The process to take over was harder than he thought.

The moment he took over, with little ceremony, he began working with Niall closely on this problem. They quickly noticed that it was bigger than expected and it didn't seem to have an end. It wasn't something that began this year, it went as far as five years prior. He had no idea where to begin, how to work, or where to turn.

Meanwhile, he was looking for a new COO, someone to command the operations and keep the ship afloat while they worked to fix the problem. Zayn interviewed several candidates, but none of them brought him enough trust just yet. So, he was also tackling the task of keeping everything in place in the headquarters in London, while also talking with other Country Managers around the world, like Singapore.

He spent the day and afternoon in meetings. Denise came into the office with a sandwich and a glass of orange juice, while he had a call with the American office - he drank the juice, but the sandwich remained untouched.

And would remain until the sun came down the horizon and it was time for him to go home.

He was so immersed in his work, that he didn't notice the hours ticking by. Denise told him she'd be leaving for the day, and he hummed in reply.

Slowly, his floor became emptier and emptier, as Zayn kept working, organizing, and finding his footing in his father's big shoes. His mother called three times, but he didn't pick up - he'd call in a moment, he kept saying.

The office was quiet, it was nearly 10h00pm and the soft hum of a vacuum clear could be heard down the hall.

Niall pushed his door. "Hey, the team is here."

For the first time that day, Zayn stopped. The businessman got up from his chair, but when he moved to walk his legs failed him and he faltered.

"Shit-"

"You okay?" Niall asked, coming to his rescue. "What happened?"

"Too many hours sitting down,"

"Did you eat today?" Niall inquired, looking at the sandwich on his desk. "Here,"

"No, I don't want-"

"Shut up." Niall pushed the food to his lips and Zayn took a bite. He had been starving all day. "Better?"

"Yeah," Zayn answered, chewing on the soggy bread. The CEO followed the CFO out of his office, heading down to the boardroom. "So, where did you find these people?"

Noah sighed, slowing the pace. "I got it from a recomendation."

"From who?"

"A man."

"What man?"

"Just someone who-"

"You told someone didn't you?"

"I shared how we were revising our finances to Michael-"

"Niall, for fucks sake-"

"And he pointed me to these people. They seemed legit. I did a background check and everything."

"We were keeping it contained. No wonder he came poking around and asking questions. What did you tell him?"

"Nothing. I promise. Just that we were revising and we needed a neutral party."

"So, he indicated this team."

"Yes."

"I don't like this-"

"Okay, let's relax. They are good. Weird...but good. Jeff doesn't suspect anything. Everything is okay. We're okay."

A quick knock then pushed open the door. Inside a group of three people, all dressed in black (as if they were some sort of secret team) waited for them. Three men, all younger than expected looked at the numbers on board with critical eyes.

"'Evening," One of them added. He seemed to be the oldest one and the leader. Something about him made Zayn uneasy. The man seemed way too cocky and arrogant to be a financial consultant or hacker. "Is everything here?"

"All records, yes." Niall proceeded. The leader landed his eyes on Zayn, watching him closely and the CEO was uncomfortable. Niall, turned to Zayn, ready to introduce him. "This is-"

"We know," The man added, glaring at Zayn.

Zayn didn't like him. He didn't like either of them.

"Fantastic," Niall responded with a smile. "I'll be here-"

"No need," the man responded. "You don't have to stay. We know our way around and we have everything we need."

"Oh!" The CFO replied. "Are you sure? You have access to all the"

"We do," The man responded with certainty. "You'll have an initial report by the morning."

"So soon?"

"Would you wish for it to take longer?"

"No! No. Please, do what you must."

"That we will." The man responded. "If you, please-"

It took them a second to understand that the man wanted them out of the room. Trading looks, they left, closing the door behind them. Soon enough, they heard the lock twist.

"I have a bad feeling," Zayn added.

"They're good."

"Niall, I don't-"

"Brother, trust me. We'll get what we are looking for and come up with the right solution." Niall assured. "We'll get what we're looking for, bud."

"Okay. I just don't want any nasty surprises."

"We'll see, okay?"

"Come on, give me a ride home."

"Where's your driver?"

"I gave him the day off."

"You just want to be alone with me, your dog. I have a reputation to maintain."

Zayn pouted "When are you going to give me a chance, Nialler? I'll treat you right."

The CFO pushed him aside. "You don't want this, sweetie."

****

Niall lived close enough to drop Zayn at the house and then go to his house. They approached the gates of the luxury community, while Niall told one of his wild stories that could bring Zayn into a good mood. They had been friends since they were children.

They had struck friendship most unusually: They were both outcasts who arrived at their Ivy League school on the same day, went to the same class, and sat side by side. Since then, they have been inseparable.

Of course, they had other connections and friendships, but Niall always had Zayn's back and Zayn always stood close to Niall. They were each other's defenders. Together in school, choosing the same business path in University and stay in the same dormitory - with Niall being the first door on the left and Zayn the last on the right. They were the best of friends. With no judgment.

Niall had recently tied the knot with his school love, while Zayn, was currently single. After getting his heart, and body, broken by Ben, the businessman did not have the emotional availability for anyone else.

Of course, his eyes would sometime linger on someone interesting - he wasn't blind. And casual encounters had happened before and after Ben, with people who were just as discreet as him.

After all, Zayn had his type: tall, dark hair and light eyes were enough to make him tremble. Add to that a kind smile, someone with a curious mind and with depth and it would go a long way.

However, now wasn't the moment.

There was too much at stake, for matters of the heart or below the waist. He hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in a month, let alone any action. There was no time for romance, sex, crushes, or basic flirting; Of course, he dreamt secretly of someone that would take his breath away as Ben did, but...he knew that men like Ben were one of a kind.

Or at least, the type of man Ben painted himself to be. Looking back at what he had with Ben, he understood that his ex had been too perfect.

Too charming, witty, sharp. It was like he was playing the right cards right into Zayn's heart. It worked - fuck! How it worked.

The car rolled past the gates of the Uber-rich community outside of London, towards the big Malik house. Zayn listened to his friend, giving little insight and responding to Niall's jokes, acting like a good audience. As they approached the house, the CFO stopped talking, as he noticed something curious.

"Is that the new driver?"

Zayn looked ahead, finding Harry coming from around the house. He carried his jacket in his hand, with his shirt opened at the chest and rolled up sleeves.

Was that the same guy he had seen that morning wearing that unflattering dark suit, white shirt, and black tie? It didn't look a thing like him.

Harry looked... younger.

He looked so good dressed in his casual clothes, showing so much of his body as he walked. Zayn was interested - more than he expected to be.

"Apparently,"

"He's a tall one, isn't he?"

"Niall-"

"What?"

"I know what you're doing."

"I'm not doing anything."

"All right," Zayn pushed the car door open. "See you tomorrow."

Closing the door behind him, the CEO walked home as Niall turned the car to leave.

As he approached the house, Zayn took a moment to give Harry a proper look, who walked in his direction: He was indeed very tall and looked strong. Dark hair, not as perfect as it had been that morning, though; somehow more natural - sticking out in odd places but suiting him perfectly. When Harry caught him staring, the driver stood up straight, waiting for Zayn to engage with him.

He did have lovely eyes. Green. Dark green, it looked, at that time of night.

Lips.

Dimples.

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, combing it to perfection, but Zayn wish he hadn't - he liked it messy, suited him better.

Coming closer, the boss noticed the necklaces falling deep into his opened shirt, which showed just a hint of his hair pecks. He noticed the tattoos on his right arm, part of them hidden under the sleeve of the shirt and he wondered where else they leaked too.

"Evening, Mr Malik."

Zayn stopped walking. Had he been staring for long? Had he been too obvious with his observation?

"Hello, Harry." Zayn let out, feeling his face grow warm. Harry mimicked his smile and Zayn noticed how boyish it made him look - those dimples were to die for. He wondered if Harry had been a naughty boy when he was a child. "I thought you'd be gone already."

"Yes, well...your mother made me dinner."

"Ah, the 'welcoming dinner'."Harry shook his head in reply. Something glimmered in his eyes and he did this thing with his eyebrows, which made Zayn remind himself to breathe. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to attend. I'm sure it was amazing."

"No problem. Your mother and your sisters were very kind to me."

"I'm glad," Zayn kept looking at the driver. The more he looked, the faster he concluded: he was a dashing fella; with broad shoulders, round eyes, and a perpetual smile on his lips. He seemed young. "You're taking the car with you?"

They both looked at the Jaguar, admiring its beautiful design.

"Ah, yes. I don't have a car myself, so Mrs Malik allowed me to take her with me. I hope you don't mind. I do have a garage at my building. She'll be protected."

"She?"

"The car."

"As a woman?"

Harry smiled "The design. I don't know. It looks like a rather soft car, but with some punch to it. A woman."

"Interesting..." Zayn responded with a smile. "How was your first day? I hope my mother didn't tire you."

"Oh, it takes a lot more than a few laps around London to tire me," Zayn thought he caught something in his tone of voice. "I don't get tired easily."

Was it...? Was Harry...?

No, it couldn't be. He wouldn't be so bold as to attempt such a remark with that underlying connotation.

"I'm glad. Wouldn't want you to get tired on the first round."

"That would very disappointing."

Again that slight smirk and twinkle in the eyes, made Zayn shake. Could Harry know of his preferences or was he just being charming?

"Mum liked you very much. Complimented you from here to kingdom come."

"I'm not worthy of all of that," Harry answered, with another smile. "I'm just driving."

"Sometimes that's all it takes."

The two men stared at one another for an extra second.

"Too bad you missed dinner, Mr Malik. We did have fun."

"I'll join next time. I promise. Besides, I'll be seeing you around, so I'm sure we'll have plenty of opportunities to dine."

Zayn immediately cursed himself. Dine? Who did he think he was?!

"I do hope so,"

Zayn was so consumed by his remark, he failed to catch on to Harry's quiet little response. He also failed to see that, while he was looking at Harry, the driver was looking at him as well.

And, just like he was doing, Harry was listing all of the appealing qualities in Zayn - enjoying every single one of them very much.

Feeling ashamed and embarrassed at his poor attempt at...chitchatting with the new dashing driver, Zayn decided it was better to just go home.

"Well, I'll let you go, then. See you tomorrow."

"See you, Mr Malik."

While walking past Harry, the young businessman caught the faint scent of a sweet perfume. It reminded him of sweet cotton, with another strong odour beneath it. Was it wood? Something oaky? It was a curious combination and yet, it made so much sense off his skin.

It was enough to make him slow down, and then turn around to see Harry, opening the door to the Jaguar.

"Say," Harry stopped to listen. "Do you smoke? I'm dying for a cigarette."

"Sorry, I quit recently," The driver replied. "I wish I could help."

"Nah, you're fine. It's an awful habit, anyway. I'm trying to quit, but it's harder under stressful times."

"They say gum is a good thing."

"Who's they?"

Harry shrugged "People."

"Ah," Zayn smiled. "People do say that. Thank you anyway. Have a good night's rest."

"See you tomorrow, Mr Malik,"

"Please," Zayn said naturally. "Mr Malik is my father. I'm Zayn. Just Zayn."

Harry's smile warmed his heart and he smiled too. "Zayn."

"Yes."

"See you tomorrow, then."

Harry got into the car, turned it on, and not soon after, was going down the road. The young CEO walked into the house with a soft smile on his lips.

Maybe everyone was right.

Harry was quite beautiful to look at.

And the best part? Zayn wouldn't mind seeing him again and again. 

Chapter Text

The call came early the next morning with Niall alerting Zayn that the mystery team had finished the initial report and wanted to meet both of them at headquarters as soon as possible Niall was already on his way.

Looking at the clock, the CEO noticed it was shortly after 07h00am. He fell against the pillows, feeling destroyed. Another night with him working late and not getting enough hours of sleep. He dozed off as the sun peeked through the dark sky, but it wasn't enough and now up he was again. Sitting on the bed, Zayn rolled his neck from side to side, battling to keep his eyes open.

Perhaps, tomorrow he'd sleep better when he had a clear path ahead.

Tossing his sheets aside, the businessman found the strength within himself to shower and get dressed, before coming down the steps.

The cold shower had helped awake him and now he was moving on pure energy. He wondered what they had found and how they could fix it.

Zayn entered the kitchen, finding Zora making breakfast for the family and Safira standing with her going over the grocery list.

"Mr Malik?" The governess was surprised to see him up so early. "Up so soon?"

"Yes, I need to go to the office. Is Jonathan here?"

"Not yet. He only comes around 08h30.

"Blast..." Another question popped into his mind. "Is the Bentley here?"

"Yes,"

"Okay. I'd like the keys, please."

The Governess paused for a moment unsure of what to do, but in the end, Safira went to the drawer to find the keys to the Bentley.

"Are you sure you want to drive? Harry is here, he can drive you and Rob is coming any moment now-"

"No need, Safira. Thank you."

Zayn grabbed the car keys and an apple, heading out the kitchen door.

He made sure to think about it as little as possible, so the anxiety of driving wouldn't hit him too hard. He kept at a steady speed, within his lane, respecting other drivers. His muscle memory came into play, touching the pedals at the right moment and assessing danger on all sides.

Ever since Ben, Zayn didn't drive anymore - getting behind the wheel was too triggering. The trick was to keep his mind busy before the intrusive thoughts gave way and sent him on a spiral.

At his hour, most of the city was still asleep so it was easy to navigate through. He realized it had been a good time since he last drove in London streets, but he pushed the thought before it came too prevalent in his mind.

Zayn got the Innov and parked the car in his designated seat (which once belonged to his father) It was only when he turned off the engine, that he noticed how hard his heart was beating and how intensely he had gripped the wheel.

Then, he rushed to the elevator, pressed his floor, and rode up. As soon as he got to the floor, he found Niall standing by his door.

"Morning,"

"They finished rather quickly, didn't they?"

"Yeah. Coffee?"

Niall handed him his cup and Zayn frowned, not taking it. "No. Let's go."

"Hey, hey wait..." Niall begged to stand in front of him. "Breathe."

"What?"

"Breathe. Come on. You and me."

"Niall-"

"You're panting." Niall underlined. "Breathing too hard. Take a moment."

"For God's sake..."

The businessman walked past his partner heading towards the boardroom. The floor was quiet and empty, with no one in sight. Most of the employees would be coming in around 09h00am.

Zayn pushed the door to the boardroom and was stunned.

All he saw were numbers and red circles, all around the room. Somehow, the team had managed another five whiteboards and, when that wasn't enough, they began writing on both sides of the windows: the ones that overlooked the city and the ones overlooking the office. It was like a scene from A Beautiful Mind in there.

"Morning," The leader added. "We're ready for you."

"I can see that," Zayn responded, peeking around the room. "What did you find?"

The leader pushed his computer forward. The screen showed a program running at light speed, counting numbers that Zayn didn't understand.

"Your suspicion is true, money is being taken from your company as recently as yesterday," The leader added. He stood tall with a grin on his lips. His two other companions observed silently. "Whoever is doing this is taking from the budget allocated to all departments, as well as the profit from the company-"

"How-?"

The leader raised his hand, "Please, allow us to continue and you'll have your questions in the end. Thank you."

The leader moved to one of the boards, turning it over, and showing an entire schematic of the process.

Quietly, Niall sat down in awe of the entire situation.

"Firstly, whoever is stealing money has complete access to the company's financials, as well as budgets from all departments. This job is coming from someone within these four walls.'

'Secondly, they have been doing it steadily for the past five years. They skim just enough from the top, so it's not noticeable, and use the normal movements from within the company to do so. Let's say a department needs a case of 1000 gloves. They submit the request to the project manager, who sends it for approval. Once approved, the money is allocated to the team's budget - that's when the robber goes in and takes a part of the money."

The man turned to the following board which listed several ID numbers and emails. Zayn recognized some of the names and emails in front of him written in perfect handwriting.

"They are quite clever, as they are using accounts of employees who recently left the company. From what we could confirm it takes about three days for an account to be deleted - that means ID number, email, passwords, and accesses - are easily available and can be used by whoever, including these employees.'

'So, our robber, seeing the movements from the accounts, hops in say Jessica's ID here, enters her password and email, does what needs to be done, and then leaves. The accesses are only used once, but if they are feeling...let's say, bold, they may use it again.'

'After the money is stolen, then, the account is deleted, the trace of Jessica's ID is erased, and the money gone. Think of it like taking a cookie out of the jar before the kitchen door closes for the day.'

The leader moved to the third board, turning it and showing more statistics. Niall cursed under his breath and Zayn tried to keep his composure.

"Sometimes, if there's too much movement, as we see here, the robber may allocate the money on another budget just from a few hours to a few days. It stays there until a new request pops up and then he moves it.'

'The money jumps from account to account until it disappears and, since all information is erased under the European data protection law, we can't see where it was sent to.'

'Whoever is doing this has complete knowledge of the company. Its movements, processes, and open windows. It has been going on for quite some time and we believe it was meant to never be found. We believe they are using outside tools, not working from within or it would easily be spotted. They are smart and tech-savvy, but not money hungry as the amounts are never too obvious."

The man turned to them, allowing for the questions to begin.

"How can we stop it?" Niall asked

"Shut everything down. Restrict access to the money to one person, perhaps you, as the CFO and maybe the CEO for 4-eye confirmation. The rest will have to be left out.'

'Perform a general sweep of all electronics looking for gateways, firewall breaches, or bugs that could be a window to any outside devices. Change passwords, addresses, and access. Cancel all credit cards and credit notes. No money leaves this company without you being aware of it. The old system needs to go."

"It'll take a while to do that. We have more than 300 people in England-"

"Pardon me," The man added. "If you think this is happening solely at the England office, you're mistaken." The man turned the following board showing the numbers from the other offices and, even though it wasn't at a larger scale, it was still happening. Zayn rested his hands on the table, looking ahead. "Other offices have been hit too, but not as hard. Anywhere there's money, you can see a pattern. Small amounts, across all departments, always associated with a company purchase, through dead user accounts."

Zayn watched the numbers with a sense of dread. It was bigger than he thought: it was larger than he could comprehend.

The young CEO sat at the table, with a question screaming in his mind.

"How much?"

The leader stepped forward and let out a number "Eighty-five."

Niall scoffed "Please, say thousand."

The leader looked at him and his silence spoke volumes. Zayn felt depleted and wanted to break everything around.

What the fuck was going on?

Zayn got up from his seat and wandered around the boardroom not thinking of anything, just letting the information sit within him.

"If you wish," The leader added, "We can help."

"How?"

One of the members presented a plan, all printed out but did not hand it over to Niall.

"We've worked on a plan." The leader announced. "We can start right now; with the right tools, we will stop the leak. How to get the money back, now that's a different story and I'll leave that to you and how you run the company. But this...we can help."

"How much?"

"This is a one-of-a-kind type of job, it will take time...Fifty thousand."

Zayn scoffed "For fucks sake..."

The CEO walked out of the boardroom, heading to his office. Zayn removed his blazer and tossed it aside, then opened his shirt at the neck.

Leaning against this desk, the businessman followed Niall's advice and took a breather.

Feeling he couldn't sit still, he began pacing from side to side, like a caged lion unsure of what to do next to where to go.

Soon after Niall entered the room.

"I'm not giving them money. I told you I wanted this contained. I'm not risking outsiders." The CEO ordered. "We'll take a page out of their playbook: all budget is allocated to you and me - no one else. We're the only ones with access to everything for the time being. We'll talk to informatics and change everyone's emails, and passwords, change logins, and what needs to be changed. A full sweep. That might help stop the leak."

"Then what?"

Zayn paused, staring at his friend.

"What do you mean?"

"Have you forgotten the other aspect of our problem? Even if we stop the leak today, we're still running low, and we still need to make significant changes to the company."

"Niall, please-"

"I know it's a hard decision, but you seem to be forgetting we have a board meeting in two weeks."

"Forgetting?" Zayn inquired. "That is all I think about, Niall. Do you think this situation is easy for me? Do you have any idea the pressure I'm under with this monster facing me? My dad left this place a fucking shit show and I must clean it. Forgetting...I can't forget and I can't ignore, Niall." Zayn paused for a moment, focusing on himself. "We'll cancel the meeting."

"You're shooting yourself in the face."

"How am I going to the meeting telling them we're losing money and we might have to fire people?"

"You're not going to be introducing a problem, you'll present solutions. That's the difference!" Niall explained. "We work with this team, we fix the leak and we work on solutions for the company to move forward while in a crisis - when you face the board, you've solved one problem and come up with a solution for another!"

"This is your first meeting. If you come off panicked or afraid, that entire table will eat you alive and before you know it, they'll kick you out. You can't cancel it. Go with the tide." Zayn closed his eyes, trying hard not to panic and to be overwhelmed by his emotions. Niall approached his friend, placing both hands on his shoulder. "I'll be at your side for whatever you want to do, but I beg you...play smart. Make the board work for you, not the other way around."

Zayn wandered away from his friend, heading towards the window and looking at the morning London view. In a moment of weakness, he allowed doubt and fear to sip into his spirit.

"Why am I doing this?"

"Mate, you're doing it because you have to. Hold it firm and onwards we go. You're not alone."

A knock on the door brought them back to the moment. The leader of the team stood there watching them with a neutral stare.

"Gentleman, if you no longer require our services-"

"Hold on," Niall begged, then turned to Zayn with a pleading look in his perfect blue eyes. "Well?"

The CEO watched his friend, then the team leader standing at the door of his office. Deep inside of him, he didn't want outsiders involved. He had no idea why, but he couldn't trust the man completely. Something about his demeanour.

On the other hand, they needed experts if they were to fight this off quickly before the meeting.

No real discussion here.

"Fifty thousand," Zayn agreed. "From my fund."

"This is a company issue, Zed. You don't have to move your money."

"I know. I'm not touching any more money from the accounts. All bank movements are suspended for the day, and you can begin cancelling cards and shutting down accounts. I'll send a memo letting all the managers and country leads know that only Niall and myself have access." The CEO responded. Then, he turned to the man. "How long until it's done?"

"We'll move fast."

"Go for it," Zayn responded. "Niall will guide you with everything."

"Certainly,"

The man turned to walk with a grin on his lips. "Since you're going to work for us..." Niall called. "Can we, at least, know your name?"

The man looked back at them with a smile. "I'm Xander."

"Pleasure,"

"All mine," He responded with a smile. "Now, if you excuse me, we have a lot of work to do and money to save."

Zayn sat at his desk typing on his computer. He had written and re-written that memo at least a hundred times.

Should it be short and straight to the point? Or offer some sort of context and detail the steps he was taking?

In the end, he decided to play smart and just kick everything right in the face. The memo was short, it did not explain and it was dry. He added his digital signature, then pressed send, and off it went to all the board members and managers.

It didn't take long before the replies began pouring into his emails. One right after the after. Then it morphed into his phone with texts and calls coming from people. He refused to answer any of them.

If he answered one, he'd have to answer them all.

Instead, he sent a follow-up email to the same group saying that any doubts or questions would be addressed in the upcoming meeting.

As he kept working, the minutes and hours dragged on, but he couldn't focus entirely. All his adrenaline was slowly coming off him. He hadn't had a proper night's sleep in a few days and his eating schedule was all messed up.

The young CEO sat back in his chair, with his head back and rested his eyes. The exhaustion washed over him, taking him deeper into slumber.

Time ticked by and Zayn had a solid twenty minutes of zen before his door popped open.

Trisha Malik walked into the office with steam coming off her head.

"I got your memo-"

"Morning, mum-"

"I called you-"

"You and everyone else at that table."

"Don't get snappy at me."

"I'm not," Slowly Zayn sat on his chair, twisting his neck around. "Mum, whatever I found you will know in due time, alongside all board members, at the meeting."

Trisha Malik closed the door behind her, walking up to Zayn with her hands on her hips. A pose she would do whenever one of her children acted up.

"Zayn Malik, I build this company alongside your father-"

"And you did great." He added sternly. "I'm the current CEO and Chairman, so I decide. Whatever discoveries we stumble upon and steps moving forward, will be discussed later."

"Every good Chairman has a handful of people he keeps close-"

"I have Niall," Zayn cut sharply. "Don't worry about it. I'm doing it. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I know you feel like I betrayed your father, by pushing you forward, and essentially ambushing you-"

"You can say that again..."

"However," Trisha underlined. "It was the best decision to make, Zayn. It was either we kept what we have built within our family or handed it over to strangers. Keep our history, your legacy, in the hands of people who don't understand us."

Zayn slumped forward, covering his face.

"If you knew the weight I carry every day, you wouldn't have asked me to do this in the first place."

The mother went over to her son, holding him close and rubbing his back as he used to do when he was a child. Trisha kissed the top of his head, running her fingers through his dark waves.

"I know. I know it's heavy. I see it in you." Trisha admitted. "You haven't been eating, sleeping properly-"

"Mum, stop, okay?" Zayn begged, getting away from his mother's embrace. "You wanted me here, so here I am. And I'm trying to do my best."

"Your best doesn't mean exhausting yourself."

"Then, how do you expect me to fix the situation of this company? You practically pushed me here-"

"I didn't-"

"You did. You, Niall, and other board members ganged up on me a month ago and demanded I take the chair. I did. I'm taking it and I'm working on it. I don't know what else to do here. I can't make myself smile and happy if I know that tomorrow I'll probably have to send more than 100 people home."

"What?" Trisha asked with a gasp. "What are you...? You can't do that-"

"I'll explain later-"

"Zayn-"

"Later, mum. At the meeting!" Zayn ended the conversation sharply.

Trisha understood his demands. The woman returned to the chair across the desk, holding to the back of it.

"Have you chosen a COO?"

"No,"

"Then bloody get to it." Trisha snapped back. "Before this entire business drowns you."

"Didn't think that far ahead when you wanted me here, huh?"

Trisha didn't add any more comments; Instead, the mother resorted to walking away from his office.

As soon as the door slammed behind her, the young CEO slumped forward feeling the weight of responsibility on his shoulders.

Harry stood in the hallway looking around, while Trisha entered Zayn's office. He watched people working, coming, and going down the hallway, beginning their day.

He found this 'corporate' life curious; It never interested the young man to follow the corporate world - despite being a good student and finishing basic school. He tried University for a while, but he found it restrictive and was not a fan of his classmates.

Besides, life on the street was ever so more enticing than inside a classroom. And he was making money.

A few professionals walked by him, wishing him a good morning. The women smiled at him, and men raised their chins at him. He wondered if he was acting weird, standing there in the middle of the hallway on the administrative floor.

"Pst!" Turning to the side, he saw a woman with a smile standing by a desk. "Hi! I'm Denise, secretary to the big boss."

"'Morning. I'm-"

"Harry. Yes, the new driver. I saw your contract yesterday. Welcome!"

"Thank you." He responded by coming closer to her. "Is this always busy in the morning?"

"Yes," Denise responded, as another co-worker walked by. "That's Zayn's office. Mr Horan, CFO you met yesterday, is down the hall. Around the back is the team's open space and further back the board room. Coming around here, you have a few empty offices and another meeting room. Also, the labs are on the lower floors."

"Quite the space."

"Three hundred people across four floors here in London," Denise responded with a smile. "It's quite the space all right."

Harry looked at her desk, seeing the keys to the Bentley next to her computer.

"Did Mr Malik drive today?"

Denise looked down, catching the keys. "Oh yeah. A rare occasion."

"He doesn't drive?"

"Not really," Denise replied, opening the drawer, and tossing the keys inside. "Car accident a few months back. Sometimes, he gets headaches from it."

"Headache?"

"Yes, from impact." Denise responded, "You know, like when you break a bone and if it doesn't heal properly, it hurts sometimes. Same thing with him, with his headaches. That's why he has Jonathan to drive him around, he hasn't been a fan of it since."

"That's unfortunate," Harry responded, finding it curious. "I had no idea he had an accident."

"Oh, it was a very hush type of thing. You know the family and privacy."

The office door opened, and Trisha Malik came out with a frown. The woman sauntered down the hall, walking past them, then pushed Niall's door and slammed it shut.

Denise grunted to herself. "One of those days, I see."

"Mr Malik's been rather stressed lately,"

"We all are," The woman replied, taking a seat behind her desk, and typing away. "It might take a while. Take a seat, love. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?"

"No," Harry responded, walking towards the big empty armchair next to her desk. "I'll just wait. Thank you."

Harry sat on the chair, waiting for the moment he'd get to leave.

Suddenly, Zayn's office door opened, and he came out:

"Denise, can you get me, Patrick-?" Zayn paused seeing Harry sitting in the lobby. "Harry?"

"Morning, Mr Malik," Harry responded, sitting up.

"Where is she?"

"In Mr Horan's office."

"Here's a tip for the future: when it's time to leave, just grab her and go. Or you'll never leave." Niall's door opened and Trisha came out, followed by Niall. "Case in point. Shouldn't you be at the Foundation instead of hounding my CFO, mum?"

"I was talking to Niall," Trisha replied with her raised chin. "A fellow board member. There are issues we had to discuss."

"Tried to get him to snitch on me or something?"

"Too loyal for that, mate." Niall sneered with a quick wink.

Trisha showed her smile as if she and Niall had been talking about the weather.

"I was just sharing with him a few possibilities for COO. People I know. If you hadn't kicked me out of your office-"

"I didn't-"

"You would've heard my propositions, but you wanted me out. So, I think Niall is a better listener than you." Zayn looked at Niall, who shrugged softly not wanting to come between mother and son drama. "Harry, we can go now."

"Yes, ma'am."

Trisha walked towards Zayn, leaving him a kiss on the cheek and a sweet word, which Zayn accepted.

Then, the mother led the way and Harry followed, going to their car.

Once they got into the car, all settled and ready to leave, Trisha turned to Harry with a serious look on his face.

"Harry, I want you to pick up Zayn later. I'll drive home."

"Are you sure, Mrs Malik?" Harry asked, looking in the rear-view mirror. "I can just as easily drop you off at home and come back."

"No," Trisha replied. "I don't want him driving and it makes no sense for you to go and then come back. He's done at 05h00pm, but always stays up until late, so pop on over around that time. Tell Rob to pick up the Bentley. If Zayn gives you a hard time, call me."

Harry showed a gentle smirk "Yes, Ma'am."

Harry dropped Trisha Malik at the Foundation, the mother seemed stressed and frowned the entire ride.

A completely different mood from the previous day when she was all smiles and lovable. Harry respected her silence, giving her space to be in her emotions. The driver opened the door for her client, who thanked him and headed into the building.

"Wow, now that's a car!"

Harry turned to find Liam standing there looking at the Jaguar. He had a beautiful honey girl under his arm.

"Liam?"

"Hi, Harry." Liam grinned with a smile on his lips. None of this encounter sounded natural to the young driver. "This is a lovely ride."

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh. I brought Cherrie out for a little walk. We were at a cafe nearby for some breakfast and decided to stop by." Liam responded, looking down at the girl with a smirk. The girl mimicked him, pulling him closer. "She deserved something nice today. She did good yesterday, didn't you Cherrie?"

"Yes, daddy..." She responded with a smirk.

Liam cackled "Now, I told you not to call me that in public."

"Sorry," She responded with no shame. Then, she turned to Harry "Hi, Harry."

"Hi...Cherrie..." Harry looked back at the Foundation, fearing someone would see them talking and report back to Trisha. "Listen, I can't talk right now, I'm working."

"Oh, no I understand, mate," Liam added. "This is a nice spot here. What's this? A museum?"

"Something like that. It's a lot of things."

"But not a museum?"

"No, it has a museum."

"Ah," Liam responded, looking at the building. "We might stay on over for a little. The gardens are nice, and we might check whatever exhibit is inside."

Harry didn't want Liam anywhere near this new life, but he couldn't forbid his former friend from wandering around town.

"Good idea,"

"Pop on over for lunch, mate."

Harry blinked at the invite. He did not wish to fall into this again. Besides, Liam's invitation didn't seem like a request, more like an order with little room for choice.

"I'll try-"

"Nah, ask for an extra hour. I'm sure the Mrs will understand." Liam turned to Cherrie, who melted against him with the prospect of a romantic date in the morning, "We'll have a proper welcome for our boy, Cherrie."

"Yes,"

The woman looked at Liam as if he was a God. Her hand palmed on his chest. Harry was uncomfortable.

"Okay," He let out, breaking their moment. "I'll pop on over."

"Good lad," Liam responded with a smirk. "See you later."

Liam pulled Cherrie along with him and together they walked toward the gardens as if they were a couple in love. Harry was left uneasy. He didn't believe in coincidences.

Especially, if his former friends were anywhere near them.

Harry drove back to his flat to grab a bag with a few changes of clothes, his items, and a few books. He had bought this flat back when money was good, and he was a vital part of the operation - it was a reward for himself.

A loft studio, overlooking a quiet area of the city with wide windows and wooden floors. His flat was barren and he likes it that way. His living room had just a sofa, a carpet, and a bookshelf so full of books, the shelves were giving in due to the weight. Next to it, a small pile of books waited to be read next.

His bedroom was just a bed without a headboard, a closet, and a chair in the corner. Bathroom with sink and shower. Kitchen with a small peninsula and overhead space. The fact that the flat was barren, only showed how much space it had to be filled still.

Despite that, Harry was never a fan of clutter and jail taught him that he only needed the essentials. In his bedroom, he grabbed his pillow, a few blankets, and a lamp. He had decided to stay at the mansion, instead of alone in his flat. At least, at the mansion, he'd wake up with some fresh coffee and there were people around.

Harry had missed hanging around people. Normal people. With normal lives and problems. He missed that human side of life, so he decided to occupy the small room Safira had shown him on his first day.

As he looked for his shoes under the bed, he noticed the bag with money. Seven million sitting there waiting for him. Harry dragged the bag, then opened it seeing the same amount of money, untouched. Should he take it with him?

Without thinking he grabbed the bag, and alongside his other belongings, he loaded it into the car.

As soon as he arrived at the mansion, he dropped his belongings in his room. The bag with the money would stay hidden under his bed, in the darkest corner.

"Harry?" The young man turned to find Safira by the door. "So, you're staying?"

"Yes."

"Very well," Safira added. "You know the rules, correct?"

"Yes," Harry underlined. "No pets. No eating in the room. No smoking in the room. No overnight guests-"

"Especially, the overnight guests. Family, friends, or any other kind. There are perfectly fine hotels in the city."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You're picking up Mr Malik later on, correct?"

"Yes, I believe Rob has the Bentley already."

"He does," The woman showed him a smile. "Take something to read. Mr Malik usually likes to take his time, especially when he knows people are waiting."

The rest of the day ran by easily. Harry washed the car, did a few short errands for Safira, and drove Mrs Malik to another location. He liked it - it was a simple job and driving helped clear his mind.

When it was time, following Mrs Malik's request, Harry drove to the company to pick up Zayn.

When Denise saw him on her floor, the woman smirked behind her round glasses.

"If I may, Harry, you are a sight for sore eyes on such a bleak afternoon."

The driver smiled and retorted "If you could see yourself through my eyes, you'd admire yourself too."

The secretary hummed, showing a smirk on her lips.

"Flattering. I knew I liked you. Do tell me, did Mrs Malik forget something?"

"Not really," Harry replied with hands in his pockets. "Came here to pick up the son. Mum's orders."

Denise's eyebrows rose and then she scoffed. "Good luck with that. He's having a bad day-"

The office door opened, and Zayn came out "Denise, I need to change tomorrow's call with-...Harry?"

"Hi,"

Zayn looked up and down the office. "What is mum doing here?"

"He's not here with your mum," Denise added with a smirk, grabbing her steaming mug of tea, unable to stop smirking. "He's here for you."

"Me?" Zayn frowned. "Thinking of quitting already?"

"No," Harry smiled. "I'm here to pick you up and take you home. Your mother requested me."

Zayn stood there watching Harry carefully. The young CEO crossed his arms, with his shirt tightening around his arms - Harry fixed his pose too. They were both staring at one another.

"My mother asked you to come to pick me up?"

"Yes."

"Today?"

"This morning, yes."

"Can you believe this?" The secretary shook her head with fake disbelief, enjoying the scene. "I don't need a ride, Harry - do tell my mother I am not 10 years old. Besides, I have the Bentley-"

"Actually," Harry added with a raised finger. "Rob came in the afternoon and took the Bentley. I'm all you got."

The CEO rolled his eyes at Harry's statement - with the driver becoming aware of how cute he looked when he was upset like this.

"For fuck's sake..." Then, he turned his attention to the assistant, focusing on the subject ahead and not his overbearing mother. "Change my 09h00 to 11h00 and my 11h00 to 03h00 tomorrow. Let Niall know, I want him there too-"

"Niall has those hours booked-"

"Then, find me another slot. I don't know." Zayn let out an exasperated sigh, going back into his office, but leaving the door open. He then came back, looking at Harry. "You can leave, Harry. I'm giving you the afternoon off."

"Mrs Malik requested-"

"Yeah, she might've requested it, but I sign your salary sheet and your contract. Whatever I decide, goes. Go away. Thank you."

Then slammed the door of his office.

"Don't worry," Denise responded, turning to her computer. "He's all bark and no bite. Give him a few minutes."

Harry sat on the nearby chair. He quickly understood he was tingling all over and wanted nothing more but to tame that bratty spirit of the young Malik heir.

One hour rolled by, with the office becoming increasingly emptier as the administrative workers left for the day.

Denise began to pack her things, while Harry flipped another old magazine to keep himself entertained.

"You know..." Denise responded, with her phone in hand, "Sometimes, it works best if you call reinforcement."

"Like what?"

The assistant typed something on her phone and then grabbed her belongings.

"See you tomorrow, Harry."

Before Harry could continue, his phone rang and a number he didn't recognize appeared on the screen.

"Hello?"

"You're still at the office?"

Immediately, the driver sat up straight. "Mrs Malik-"

"Are you?"

"Yes, Zayn is busy and-"

"All right,"

The woman ended the call leaving Harry without an answer. Seconds later, Harry heard a familiar ringtone inside the office and Zayn's voice.

He argued a little, but then he ended the conversation. Seconds later a text shot up Harry's phone.

Trisha Malik: He'll be right out.

Thank you and sorry he kept you waiting.

Trisha.

The office door opened, with Zayn came out, holding his blazer and a bag with his laptop.

"You know, mothers are such unyielding creatures and so hard to understand," Zayn commented, closing the door behind him. "She wanted me as CEO and insisted on it. I caved. Now, she wants me to relax and take it easy in the middle of a crisis, that she insisted I resolve! Is your mother like this?"

"I feel all mothers are," Zayn sighed, pinching his nose slightly. Harry could see how tired he was. "Everything okay?"

"I'm not going to lie, I was crossing my eyes over that document and I'm knackered. I feel a headache coming on..."

Zayn kept his eyes closed and Harry thought he looked beautiful even when he couldn't see the brown of his irises.

"I don't have any medication for headaches, sadly."

"No, no, don't bother..." Zayn replied, frowning again. "I just need to rest my eyes."

Harry noticed how lean his neck was, how his hair stood perfectly combed without a hair out of place; how straight the line was across his shoulders. He had a beautiful face, with exotic features; cheekbones to die for, a soft tone of voice, and a skin tone that resembled refined brown sugar.

When Zayn opened his eyes, Harry saw that they were slightly bloodshot from exhaustion.

The CEO seemed to be in desperate need of a good nap on some soft pillows, with someone stroking his hair.

"Shall we?" Harry suggested

"Sure,"

They went down to the garage together in silence, with Harry leading the way and opening the doors.

They got to the car, where Harry opened the back door of the Jaguar, while Zayn closed it. The driver went around the car, removed his blazer, and then got in.

"Would you think poorly of me, if I closed my eyes a bit?" Zayn asked, leaning back in his seat.

"Not at all,"

Harry turned the car on, and lowered the volume of the music. Seconds after they were off headed home.

When the driver looked in the mirror, he caught Zayn with his head back on the seat and already sleeping.

Reaching a crossroads, instead of going right - to a shorter route - Harry turned left, through a route that would take him a few minutes extra to get home.

He had no bad intentions - he just wanted Zayn to have a few more minutes of rest.

Zayn opened his eyes sensing that everything was way too quiet. He opened one eye, then another. After a few blinks, he understood he was parked in front of his house.

When had he arrived?

The CEO noticed Harry standing by the car, leaning against it, looking through his phone absentmindedly.

Zayn watched him through the glass, his tall presence acting like a guardian of his sleep. The CEO sat up in the car, and then popped the door open.

"Hey," Harry greeted him, once he noticed he was up.

Zayn got out, covering a yawn. "Did I fall asleep?"

"Yeah," Harry responded, holding the door for Zayn. "We barely got out of the garage, and you were out."

"Jesus," Zayn responded, rolling his head. "You could've woken me up."

"Yes, but I felt like you needed a little more time. You look better already."

"Thank you,"

"Besides, your mum told me to let you sleep."

"And you were what, guarding me?"

"Something like that. I believe it would be rude to just let you sleep in the car and not give you context."

The young CEO grabbed his belongings and then closed the door. A quick look at the clock showed it was almost 08h00 at night.

"I'm sorry I kept you for so long - I'd hate for you to have to take a long drive home because of me."

"Erm," Harry locked the car with the key, "I decided to stay. Safira showed me the spare room in the back, and I decided to take up on the offer."

"An easier commute, then."

"Very. Besides, it's good to have company and to talk to people. Zora makes a mean coffee, and it would be a crime to miss it."

The young CEO smirked at Harry, heading towards the steps of the house. Harry followed him quietly.

"A young man like you, with a flat in London...I mean, the female audience must lose their minds over you."

"If only they were my intended audience," Zayn missed his footing, nearly falling on the stone steps. Harry moved quickly, grabbing him by the arm with a firm grip. "You okay?"

Zayn's eyes met Harry's green eyes and lingered for an extra second.

"Ye-Yes," Zayn responded, trying to ignore the pain in his big toe. The CEO fixed his clothes and Harry let go of him. "Erm...I should get in."

"Of course. Good night,"

Harry turned to walk down the steps.

"Aren't you coming?"

The driver stopped, looking up at Zayn. "Safira said that all staff movements should be done by the side door. So..."

"Nonsense, you're at the door-"

"I know, but-"

"Has mum given you the tour?"

"She did, yes," Harry replied with a smirk. "I know where your bedroom is."

Harry saw something come across Zayn's face. Was it a surprise or a suddenly panicked curiosity?

"You do?"

"Yes. Second floor, the last one on the left. You can see the back garden from your room." Harry responded with arms behind his back and a grin on his lips. "Your mum showed it to me in case of an emergency, you know?"

"Right,"

"Well...I'll leave you to it. Good night, Mr Malik."

"It's Zayn..."

Harry took a step back, with a wide smile on his face. "Right. Zayn. Good night."

"Good night, Harry."

Sitting at his desk, Zayn gave another go at the report he was preparing for the board meeting. It had so much information and it was so dense! Besides, he had no idea if what he was writing, or if any of the planning was even a good idea.

A sea of uncertainty without a possible end. Dropping his reading glasses by the table, the young CEO closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The clock marked 02h00am.

Closing his computer, the young man went to his bathroom to brush his teeth, wash his face, and comb his hair before bed. After his night ritual was completed, Zayn walked to the bed. He took off his shirt, tossing it aside, and then his pants - he was never a fan of sleeping with too many clothes.

Curiously, he looked outside of his window and saw something that made him pause. With caution, hiding in the shadows of his room, he saw someone walking the gardens of his house.

At first, he was panicked and ready to act on an intruder, but he recognized the height and the kind of walk of the person.

"Harry?"

Fate gave him the answer when the young driver came to a patch of light. There he was, dressed in a hoodie and baggy joggers, just wandering about the garden.

How long had he been walking around?

Zayn stood there in the shadows looking at him and just found him the most curious of beings. He was a mystery and he looked so good standing by his window just wandering about like a lost puppy.

Suddenly, the driver fished something from his pocket. His phone was lit up with a possible notification - Zayn noticed, he pocketed the phone again, continuing to walk until he was out of sight.

Zayn walked to the bed, got in, and turned off the light. As he tried to sleep, the last thought in his conscious mind was joining Harry on his midnight walk.

"Hello?"

"Hey, mate," Liam greeted sitting back on his chair. "Didn't you still up."

"I'm a night owl, Liam."

"I see," Liam commented. "I must admit I'm heartbroken that you didn't join us tonight. One would think that you're avoiding us."

"Right," Harry added. "No. Not at all, Payno. I was just busy."

"Driving rich people takes you a lot of time, then?"

"Yes," Harry responded. "At the moment, yes."

"I see..." Liam added. "Well, I do hope to see you sometime soon, lad."

"Thank you. It's late. I should get some sleep."

"Of course." Liam ended the call, by touching the screen. The man turned in his chair, finding Louis standing by the windows. "He's running away from us, Lou."

Louis twisted his neck around cracking it. The man looked down into the street, as some guests entered his establishment. Below his feet, the music thumped and the club entered another busy night.

The boss needed to play it cool - be mindful and look at the chessboard thinking ten moves ahead.

Harry was an important connection. Not the only one, but important and he needed to be approached with care. If pressed too hard, Harry could explode this entire operation with a few words. Everyone needed to move in the shadows until the moment.

"Give it time. Let him pretend."

"Really?"

"Yes," Louis assured, turning to his friend. "We need to play him carefully or we'll lose everything before we even get it. Let him be. Let him drive the family and be a civilian.

'Harry needs to be in a safe environment. If we don't chase him down and let him come to us, he will speak naturally. Give him room, then we'll move."

"What if he doesn't talk?"

Louis fished the pack of cigarettes from the table and lit a stick between his lips. "He can't afford it. He owes us."

"Well, we owe him as well..."

"Yeah, but I'm not afraid to pay my share."

Someone knocked on the door and Liam welcomed the guests. Xander entered the room, accompanied by Nick and Roman.

The soldier dropped the same initial report on the table and grinned.

"What am I looking at?" Liam asked, looking at the report and seeing nothing but numbers. "Who did this?"

"Initial report from Innov," Nick added, stepping forward. "Just something I made last night. They're losing money."

Liam and Louis traded looks. Liam sat up flipping through the document. "You did this, Nicko?"

"Yes," The young man responded with a trembling smile. "Even though Xander took credit for it."

"I'm the head of this operation, wanker." Xander snapped back.

"You're not. You wouldn't know what to do with all those numbers. I figured it out."

"All you do is cry."

"You slept all night-

"I'm still in charge-"

"You're fuck all, that's what you are, Xander," Liam commented cutting through the argument.

The Sargent got to his feet, without averting his eyes from the report. He paused for a moment as he read the file with interest.

Once he saw the total that had been stolen from Innov, his eyebrows rose. Liam handed the report to Louis, and then, he looked at Nick.

"This is brilliant, lad."

"Thank you."

"You'll go far with us, Nicko." Liam peeked over at Xander. His eyes wandered to the soldier, looking at him up and down. "You wish you could pull half of that, Xander."

"I did my part, Liam."

"Bloody right you did, toy soldier. You're lucky here at all."

"Easy now," Louis demanded, blowing smoke up in the air. The boss set the report aside. "Are they desperate enough?"

"Ripping hairs out of their scalp," Nick responded, getting their attention. "Board meeting is coming up."

Louis showed a grin, turning to his friends.

"My friends, I have a feeling we will be transitioning to the corporate realm soon." The boss opened a drawer and removed a black flip phone. He dialled a number and then waited for the other side to pick up. "My friend, your ship is sinking..."

On the other side, a light chuckle was heard. The voice came through calm and collected.

"So, it seems. I told you it was solid."

"I was fearfull, but...I can't deny what it's in front of me."

"She's good." The other side responded. "Motivated. Determined."

"Will they agree?"

"You'll make them." The otherside added. "You'll need a new suit soon. A board member doesn't wander about in Adidas tracksuits."

"Don't worry, mate." Louis grinned, overlooking his strip club booming with activity. "I got a grey Hugo Boss with a fancy tie ready to go."

"Perfect, my friend."

Chapter Text

 A few weeks later...

Zayn watched out of his office window with a light frown. From his floor, he could see the city stretched out beneath him with people living their lives, commuting to their jobs, making choices and living to the best of their abilities.

However, despite focusing on the people below, his mind was somewhere else. What an odd few weeks it have been and he shouldn't be feeling this excited about someone he knew nothing about. He was...for a lack of a better word.. intrigued. A question kept popping into his head and he couldn't find a way to silence it.

For the past two, almost three, weeks Zayn had been watching Harry wander around his garden. Everyday, around the same hour, Zayn would happen to be awake in time to see Harry walk in his garden. The CEO found it so odd, that he couldn't look away. He wasn't alarmed. Nor wasn't he afraid that Harry would do something suspicious. He was just...curious about the entire scenario.

Zayn wondered what could be going on in Harry's mind that late at night. Was he looking for something or someone? What could bear him with such heaviness that took him away from a sound sleeping night?

His walks weren't long, either - just a few strolls around his garden, sometimes wandering far out from sight but coming back moments later. Always in silence and alone. Sometimes Harry would hum or whistle a soft tune, but it was almost a ghost-like type of scenario.

And Zayn couldn't stop peeking from behind his bedroom curtains.

It intrigued him very much! It wasn't like Harry couldn't walk at night! He could...Zayn just wanted to know why.

The CEO was too far away thinking and conjuring in his mind, not hearing that his friend and CFO had been calling for a solid two minutes now.

A slam echoed in the room, loud enough to make him jump out of his skin.

"Hi!" Niall called him with a smile. "Nice to see you back on planet Earth."

"You scared me."

"I've been calling you for a while now. Were you listening?" Zayn turned back to the window, trying to control his palpitating heart. "Clearly not. What's bothering you? Is it a meeting?"

"No," Zayn responded, not listening to his friend. "You know Harry?"

Niall paused, and then Zayn turned to him. "Your driver?"

"Yes. Did you know that,  every night, he goes out for a walk? Like ... some sort of midnight stroll. Out in the garden."

"He does?"

"Yeah, just...goes out. A few turns around the garden then goes back to his room."

"And that's a problem?"

"No, not a problem, I just find it...curious."

"Well...have you asked him?"

"Asked what?"

"Why does he go on these midnight strolls?"

"No," Zayn responded looking out the window. "It's rude. He's a free man."

"Maybe next time you can ask him if you can keep him company."

Zayn allowed the comment to rest within him before he realized what it was. He turned to his friend with a frown, catching Niall with a smirk.

"I know what you're doing-"

"I'm not doing anything-"

"You better stop it-"

"I promise you, bud, I'm focusing on what lies ahead and you're the one daydreaming about your driver's midnight wanderings in your garden." Niall retorted. Zayn walked back to his desk, still thinking of Harry. "Can we go back to the issue at hand or are you thinking of it still?"

"Yes, let's talk it out." Zayn sighed, pushing the image of a wandering Harry going by his window at night. "How are we with the presentation for tomorrow?!"

The meeting was just twenty-four hours away. To say the young man was nervous was an understatement.

"Going well. I got your notes and corrections - which were extremely detailed and you shouldn't be making them at 02h00 am, by the way."

"I couldn't sleep."

"Huh, maybe you should go on strolls with your driver," Niall commented. Zayn frowned at him, so CFO proceeded. "So, we have the presentation with the final notes and the team will hand us a final report by the end of today."

"Are the big wigs coming?"

"All the big wigs, yes," Niall responded. "The entire board will be present - all twenty members of them...Aside from your dad."

"What?"

"Your dad will be represented by me. I'm his proxy."

Zayn tilted his head to the side. "When did that happen?"

"He asked me." Niall shrugged. "He sent me documentation yesterday."

Zayn rolled his eyes and his chair too. "Typical."

"He wanted to be here-"

"I'm sure he did,"

"Have you spoken to him? At all? Since all of this happened?"

"I tried but...that's just how dad is, I guess."

Zayn didn't add any more information but allowed his feelings to stir within him. The relationship with his father had strained over the years and even more now that he was CEO.

Niall allowed a moment to pass, before moving forward with his assessment.

"As for our wonderful mystery team, they did an amazing job - the money leak is no more. They are working on new accesses for the teams, but the good part is that we're not losing any more money. However, I must say that having me as the sole money guy is not sustainable."

"You are the money guy."

"Yes, but in the previous process, I came in at the last stage, just signing the paper and giving the okay to the bank for the money to be transferred to the department. Now, I have calls every day, my email is flooding with requests (all of them urgent!) and I have to be in every step of the process! All of this on top of dealing with my day-to-day and having to doge board members who rant to me that their cards are cancelled! It's insane. I'm doing the work of a manager at this point."

"We wanted it contained, Niall-"

"I understand, but it's not viable for me, Zayn."

"Okay..." Zayn leaned over his desk, with his mind swirling about. "After the meeting and once we have proposals of how we move forward, I will take that burden from you and give the control back to the managers."

"Have you chosen a COO?"

Zayn slumped against his chair. A COO would relieve so much of his duties and processes. But, somehow, he was still fighting against the idea of it.

"Not yet-"

"Mate,"

"Niall, I haven't found the one."

"There's no science to it." Niall's argument. "Find someone who knows operations, with experience in the business of pharmaceuticals, and hire them. It's simple. You're wearing too many hats and, in the long run, it won't work."

"I'm doing fine,"

"Zayn Malik," Niall added with a stern tone. "You're replying to emails at 02h00 am in the morning. You're coming in early, leaving late. You're not eating or drinking...Look at that coffee." Niall pointed to a coffee cup that was on the table. "I brought that to you half an hour ago. It's cold and you haven't touched it."

"Niall-"

"Get a COO. You can't be a Chief of Operations, Chairman, and CEO. Either you get one or I'll jump in and get one for you."

Zayn squinted "Did my mother put you to this?"

"Yes, she did. And I agree."

"Okay, fine, after the meeting, I'll interview more people-"

"No. You've seen 15 candidates thus far. Choose three, have a quick call with them, and make a decision. I want that by next week."

"You're not the boss of me,"

"But I'm your friend and CFO. Want to fire me?"

"No,"

"Then, let's get it then." Niall ended. "Also, are we in agreement as to what options we are presenting to the board and having discussed?"

"I'm not sure about the topic of letting go of our workers."

"Mate, we've talked about it - not only are we in a recession, but we've been losing money thus far. We need to minimize efforts and focus on what we have. That means no more cars, no more credit cards, changing suppliers, and, unfortunately, letting some people go. Also, if that proves not enough, the last resource is to cut back on salaries for those that stay. We're going to be dealing with some sensitive topics, mate."

"And you expect me to be able to sleep."

"I expect you to be on your best game. If you're not, I'm there for ya, bud."

"My hero."

"Thank you." Niall continued. "On a less heroic note: Ben keeps calling me."

"For fucks sake, Niall..." Zayn got up from his chair, walking towards the window again. "I don't

want to talk to Ben."

"He says he misses you and wants to talk to you-"

"Yeah, yeah...are we ignoring the fact that he nearly killed me?"

"It was an accident-"

"He stole the car with me inside and drove like an insane man on the motorway. I'm fine without Ben. Also, I thought you said you weren't picking up the phone?"

"I'm not. I possibly bumped into him..."

"Possibly?"

"I mean..." Niall began explaining, as Zayn turned to him with a frown. "Before you tear my eyes out, he came to me, okay? He was crying."

"In what Universe did you and Ben cross paths?"

"Hey, it's London. We bump into people, Zayn."

"I never bumped into him."

"Well, I can tell you where he is-"

"I don't care."

"He looks better. Not using crutches anymore."

"Is he clean?"

"Looked like it. A bit paranoid, though."

"What do you mean?"

"He had a hoodie over his head and kept looking over his shoulder. Spoke in a whisper-"

"I'm not entertaining this, Noah."

"And he seemed genuinely sorry."

"Niall, he lied. If he had been honest from the get-go things could've gone differently. But he chose to lie. He had several opportunities to come clean. He didn't! Also, he was an addict! Visibly on something, which I had no idea. And, to add insult to injury,  he stole my car and we crashed. I almost died. Fuck, he almost died too!" Zayn responded, deading the issue. "I'm not giving in to his pleas."

"Fair enough." The CFO replied once more. After a moment of silence, he poked at Zach. "Have you eaten?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Yes, well I'm taking you for lunch before you collapse. Grab your jacket.""

****

Harry had to admit that he was nervous.

Sitting across from Louis and Liam he had no idea what to expect. His leg wouldn't stop trembling under the table; he was sweating profusely from his hands and armpits.

He wasn't afraid of his friends, but he hadn't been alone with them in such a long time, that he felt they were strangers.

Despite that, after dodging it a couple of times, he accepted their invitation for lunch. He felt it raised more flags not saying anything, than actually saying something.

So, he agreed to lunch. Listening to their banter and unbothered conversation in this fancy restaurant, made him feel so detached from them. It was odd.

"So, what are we having?" Louis asked. They had booked a private room so they'd be more at ease and Louis could smoke all he wanted. "A couple of stakes? Maybe some chicken?"

"Erm, I...I don't eat meat..." Harry mumbled. The two friends looked at him with surprise. "I stopped while in jail."

"How do you become a vegetarian in jail?" Liam asked with curiosity.

"Well, seeing men being beaten up to a pulp every day does that to you," Harry responded with a dry tone. He looked at the menu, browsing down the options. "And they do have other options in there - even though they were not very innovative with it. Fish is great. I'll have a salmon."

"Salmon!" Louis repeated, with a strong nod. "That's interesting. Interesting and healthy, Harry." He then turned to the waitress who curiously waited at their side. "So, it's two stakes - bloody - with some eggs and chips for me and Payno. Some healthy salmon for our boy, Harry."

"Very well," The woman replied after typing on her notepad. "Drinks?"

"I could go for some vodka soda, innit?" Louis responded with a smirk.

"Beer," Liam pointed out, eyeing the girl up and down.

"Coke will do fine," Harry responded. The two men traded looks of curiosity and the driver added. "I've been sober for almost five years now. No alcohol in jail."

"And you go with coke?" Liam asked with an arched eyebrow.

"I'm sober, not dead."

"Hear hear," Liam responded with a nod, padding him on the shoulder. "Good on ya, mate."

"I'll be right back with your orders," the young woman replied, taking the menus.

Louis went into his pocket, retrieving a pack of cigarettes with a red label. He took one, placing it on his lips, and offered them to Harry, out of habit.

Harry denied it and he was left confused. "I don't smoke anymore."

Louis scoffed, taking a cigarette "Bloody hell, Harry is like I don't even know you anymore."

"I just...made better choices..."

"Boring choices," Liam added. Harry gave him a death glare and the man smiled wide. "I'm joking. Joking! You did well. I would be disappointed if you had come out of jail the same man you went in. I'm proud of you."

"Very," Louis responded, taking a drag of his cigarette. "Enjoying that seven mil?"

Harry twisted his neck around, thinking of the bag full of money under his bed back at the mansion.

"Not really. I haven't touched it."

"Buy yourself something nice, love. Go crazy."

"Eventually, yes...but the money is safe."

"Safe. Such a good-doer now. The old Harry would have spent that money in sleazy motels, with pretty boys and girls, some cocaine, and booze. Fucking from dusk till dawn." Louis smirked. "God, I remember those nights. They would leave me sore all over."

"That was then," Harry responded with certainty. "That's not me anymore."

"Don't tell me you found Jesus too..." Liam responded as the waitress came to the table with a plate with their drinks. "So many good things to enjoy in life. Such pleasures and delightful moments can fill you up to the brim. Pure decadence." The waitress distributed their drinks, blushing under Liam's gaze. She showed him a short smile, then left swaying her hips. "She's a pretty thing, ain't she?"

"Where did the money come from?" Harry asked.

"Don't you fret." Louis demanded. "It's your share."

"I didn't ask for it."

"Only you to deny money that fell from heaven."

"But it didn't, did it?"

Henry opened his can of coke, pouring on a tall glass with a slice of lemon and ice. He drank it, enjoying the bubbly flavour. He had discovered how much he loved coke.

"Good. It's good."

"You're driving the Malik's, correct?"

"Yeah."

"Rich family," Louis commented, blowing smoke out of his nose. "One of the richest in the city. What do they do? Pharmaceuticals, yes?"

"Yes,"

"That's very unique," Louis responded, then turned to Liam. "I bet they made a shitload of money after the pandemic, no?"

Harry looked at Louis, who seemed way too interested in the family, and then at Liam who listened attentively, despite pretending to be on the phone.

"I guess," Harry responded.

"Yeah, they were in the news a few months ago or whatever how long it was...something about a hostile takeover?" Louis inquired. "Yeah, the oldest son stepped in and they took the father out of the Chair. Real Succession type of shit, you know?"

"How do you know this?"

"I read, Harry! Come on. I'm not a goon without knowledge - I read!" Louis argued and Liam snorted a laugh. "I do! I pay attention. Especially, because I want to be legit - I don't want to risk more of my people to go to jail, so knowing the ins and outs of the corporate world interests me."

"Because you want to be corporate?"

"Why the fuck not?" Louis added with a scoff. "Anyway, from what I could read the head of the company is Zayn, right? Malik. Handsome lad. They live just outside of the city in this uber-rich community. Private, family huh? The stupid rich always are..."

Harry felt uncomfortable, not wanting to discuss any more information than he should.

"I'm not allowed to speak much."

"Why not?"

"I'm not comfortable sharing information about my clients."

"It's just banter..." Louis added with a smirk. "We all have work gossip. Here, Liam has been shagging one of my girls even though I told him not to."

"I like Cherrie," He responded with a sigh, looking down at his phone. "She's...a good worker. Lovely on her knees."

"I wasn't talking about Cherrie..."

"Oh..." Liam looked at his friend, then shrugged. "Then, I don't know which girl you're talking about..."

"That's disgusting..." Harry commented.

Liam rolled his eyes, turning to Harry.

"Oh, Jesus, like you didn't have a go around with the girls. I remember you rolling with Ella, that French petite Yara and that American one Taylor. I caught you a couple of times, don't act high and mighty."

"It was consensual."

"So, is this. I know you've always had a preference for cock, but don't act like you didn't dive into some good pussy back in the day-"

Harry pushed his chair and prepared to leave, "I'll be going now, lads."

"Hey, hey..come on now..." Louis begged to stand too. "It's just banter. We're all dickheads here, come on. Let's have a nice meal together, Harry. For good times. I promise Liam will behave."

"As if..." Liam commented.

"Please, do sit," Louis begged, putting his palms together. "Please, buddy. Come on."

Harry sat down again, fixing his blazer and soothingly touching his hair. He tried to ignore Liam's ignorant smirk across his lips. And to think they had all been thick as thieves back in the day.

"As long as we don't talk about my clients."

"Why can't we talk about them? We all rant about work."

"Well, I signed an NDA." Louis paused for what seemed forever. His cigarette between his fingers, burning away and his eyes glued to Harry as he digested the information. "Louis?"

The boss snapped back to reality. "I'm sorry, you what?"

"I signed an NDA - a non-disclosure agreement-"

"We know what it is. Why the fuck would you sign one?" Liam asked, leaning forward.

"Had to or I wouldn't work there. It's mandatory for all employees."

Louis sat back on his chair with a cigarette between his lips

"A bloody NDA. Look at that, Payno...Maybe we should do that too?"

"Maybe..." Liam commented. "What happens if you do talk?"

"I'm fired, then sued. Then fired again."

"Jail time?"

"Probably," Harry responded with the realization hitting them. "I would like to avoid that, though."

Harry noticed that the mood at the table had changed. The boys looked sombre and pensive. Disappointed, almost.

The waitress came around with their orders: two gigantic and sizzling steaks with perfectly cooked eggs and fries for Liam and Louis, while Harry received some amazing grilled salmon with boiled potatoes.

"So..." Liam let out a sigh. "An NDA. I wonder what secrets these rich pricks are hiding."

"I don't think they're hiding. It's a matter of privacy. Imagine having your business written all over."

Louis cut a piece of his stake, looking at it "I don't care. If people know my business then they think twice before fucking with me."

Harry felt this was some of a message to him. He could feel the indirect punchline, but he didn't know how to answer.

"But makes it easier for you to fuck with them, right?" Harry commented, giving back the indirect line.

Liam looked his way, not saying a word. Louis smiled, then put the piece of stake in his mouth.

****

The conversation continued with Harry trying to be civil and keep them at bay while Louis and Liam remained their old selves. Loud, brash, and braggadocious. Harry sat back watching his former friends - really looking at them, as the reflection of his long-lost life.

Sitting around the table were the three points of London's biggest criminal organization. The core product is pure heroine, coming in through Russia, while also dabbling in the sex business and occasional robbery.

Louis was the boss and he was smart - scaringly smart. This was a business he had inherited and built with his sweat, but with someone else's blood and tears. Louis was a quiet leader, but a feared one; known for having little patience when things went wrong and being quick to lash out. Not a fan of mistakes, poor excuses, or half-told stories. Things were what they were and that was it. His hands only got dirty when he got mad - with Harry being witness to those moments. This talk of being 'legit' was surprising to Harry, but it wasn't something new - Harry had heard it before and, curiously, he wanted to know how his former friend would pull it off.

Liam was a sergeant with a foot on the ground and a tight leash around the other soldiers. If Liam was at your door, it was never good news. He knew everyone's name within the organization, he was out in the street, visiting locations, touching the product. He was the frontman and the big man on campus. Unlike Louis who only used violence when angry, Liam was not afraid to close his fist and knock a few teeth out - or tell someone to do it.

If Liam was the left hand, Harry had been Louis's right hand: the advisor. Harry was in charge of getting information about enemies, possible suppliers, and targets. He looked at the organization as an organism that had to be carefully thought about. He had a good instinct, was a fantastic driver when things got complicated, and always kept his cool. Harry knew everything, everyone, everywhere. He would be Louis's eyes and ears all over town. He was never violent the driver was charming, seductive, kind, and always had a bag of money with him. He never raised his voice or raised his hand.

If Harry was at your door first and, by the time he left, the money was still in his pocket, then Liam would come next. And no one wanted Liam to come next and leave without an answer. Because that meant that Louis would come to end the conversation himself.

The organization was a well-oiled machine. With selling points across the city through small-time dealers, but also moving big amounts for international organizations and being a major player themselves. There was no other gang in town, and being the biggest fish in the tank attracted bigger fishermen. So, yes the police were a constant presence around them.  Louis had filled some pockets of the men and women whose job was to protect the city of men like Louis.

Lunch lasted more than planned with Louis and Liam practically insisting on staying over another hour.

"I really should get going," Harry insisted. "I'll be picking Mrs Malik up in a minute. She's going all across town for an event."

"Okay. Okay," Louis conceded. He signalled the waitress for the check. "We'll let you go now."

"But, we do hope to see you again, Harry," Liam added. "We've missed you. We know that you needed some time to settle into your new life, but you have us. You've always had us."

Harry looked at the two and decided to come clean. Not only was he so far removed from the person he used to be when he was with them, but he also did not trust them.

Either of them.

The two of them had stabbed Harry in the back and agreed to toss him into jail. And, despite not wanting to linger in those feelings, the truth is all this showering and loving him, were they trying to lure him back into this life. Seducing him. Making it seem that the fact that he went to jail was nothing but something one does for the team.

Choosing Harry to take the fall and to fall on the sword was, in actuality, a gesture of selfishness by the two of them. Especially, given the fact that it was between Xander and Harry.

For one moment, one moment only, Harry returned to the mindset he used to have when he was a negotiator within the organization.

"Let's stop fooling ourselves here and pretend like everything is okay. None of it is okay." He opened up, making the other two very surprised. "Expensive lunch, giving me money, looking in on me and being all welcoming and loving...I know what this is. I used to do it - I did it to all of those who went to jail for us and we needed to shower them with a demonstration of devotion and gratitude so they'd return to work. I will be blunt and maybe we can move forward: I don't want to be in the life anymore. Thank you for the job, Louis, but honestly...I don't want to be anywhere with either of you. I am done."

The two criminals exchanged a quick gaze, talking in silence.

Louis scoffed "Jail has changed you-"

"It has, yes. But also the giant knife that you plunged into my back, didn't help."

Liam scoffed in silence, then shook his head in disbelief. Louis scratched his beard, shifting around in his seat.

"Harry, you need to stop being fucking selfish-"

"Selfish?"

" Yes." The boss reinforced it with his piercing blue eyes. "I told you then, I'm repeating it to you now, it was the best decision."

"Choosing to protect Xander, who got us all into that mess, instead of me - you're right-hand man, as you've said so many times - was the right decision?"

"I didn't choose, Xander," Louis answered, with sharpness typical of him. "I chose the organization we had built. Xander going to jail would destroy everything we had been working for and we would all be behind bars."

"Xander is a piece of shit."

"He is. But, at that moment, it was a better decision to keep him than you." Louis underlined. "And you're going to have to deal with that if we are to move forward."

"We are not moving forward. I want nothing to do with you, Louis."

"Didn't sound like it when you called us to get you a job, mate" Liam commented. Then, he shrugged. "I'm just saying, you're either with us or you're not, you know?"

"I thank you for the job. But I'm not depending on you anymore and I don't think the family would be pleased if they knew I was tied to you."

"You got that right," Louis commented, grabbing his glass and drinking the rest of his vodka.

"So now you're spitting in our faces." Liam proceeded. "Rude, Hazza. So rude. We're family all of us and family fucks up some things. You don't break away from family-"

"Stop with the poetry, Liam..." Harry frowned. "We're not family. We're not even related. We're just a bunch of kids who got together to steal cars and sell some weed."

"And now we are the kings of London," Louis commented. "Quite the step up from busted-up cars and cheap weed."

Harry watched his friend, who remained calm and collected.

"I'm done. I don't want anything to do with the business or with you."

"Do you hate me this much, Harry?"

"I thought I didn't, but I do. I lost five years of my life because you'd rather save a psychopath. I'm not even going into the fact, that he's still working for you and standing by your side. Not much of a hazard now, huh? You could've at least pretended to toss him out.

'Despite all of that, it doesn't matter. You got your money, your connections, and your freedom, while I was sent to jail where I was for five years because of you. For you. The driver got up from his seat. "We're done. I'm not into it. I want nothing to do with it. Stay out of my life and I will stay out of your business."

"You're fucking ridiculous." Louis snapped back. "You were protected inside, your family was safe, and got seven million in the process! Now, you come out eating fish, sober and pure looking down on us, the people who stuck by you and with whom you came up with. You're a brat, Harry. And a bloody hypocrite."

"I don't need your welcome."

"Then, what do you expect me to do, Harry?" Louis asked, sitting back on his chair, with spread-out legs. "Want me to fucking apologize? To say I was sorry I landed you in fucking prison? Well, let me tell you this, that sweet deal of five years...didn't come because of your pretty eyes. It was me, sweetheart. You were going down with fifteen. Fifteen years rotting away and five years later you're out. What do I get? A fuck you from you. I'm not apologizing for shit - I run things, how I run things and I would do it all over again. Xander was important. As an advisor and the negotiator, as you claimed yourself to be, you should've seen that coming."

"Right, it's my fault for not having the insight to see you coming with the knife."

"Yes," Louis growled, leaning forward without blinking. "I'm not apologizing. I'm not a fool. No one pays me for a fool in this town, Harry. I'm not a boy - I have millions in my pockets and blood on my hands, trust me...The last thing I'm doing is apologizing to you."

The table was silent for a moment, with Louis looking at his former friend and Harry staring back with cold eyes.

Harry moved to his pocket, retrieved a small amount of money, and tossed it on the table.

"Thanks for lunch."

Then, he walked away. As he headed out of the room, Louis called him back.

"We'll see each other soon, Hazza," Louis added, with a level of mystery. The driver turned back to him, seeing him grinning with a cigarette between his lips. "Sooner than you think."

As soon as the driver was out of sight, Louis kicked his chair and it toppled to the side with a loud bang.

"Well, you wanted to give him time-"

"Shut up, Liam!" Louis stood up wandering around the room, blowing smoke out of his nostrils. "In the big scheme of things, Harry is nothing but a comma." Louis faced the wall, pinching his nose and seeing the game ahead of him. "We have eyes on the inside with Xander and the boys. We have a connection within the board of administration. Harry's role is an extra so we know what happens within the four walls of the family - it won't change what we are planning. We are going legitimate and opening new routes for our business. Harry doesn't want to join? Fine." The boss replied. "If he's not on our side, then he doesn't matter."

"We need him, though."

"We don't need him. He's important, but not detrimental for all of this to work." Louis retorted. "Despite that, I'm not going to lose sleep over Harry. I didn't the first time around, I'm not doing it again. We move forward."

Liam grabbed his beer and cheered "Hear, hear, boss."

****

Harry walked over to the Jaguar, replaying the conversation in his head. He felt lighter, with a weight removed from his heart and his shoulders. Enough was enough. He just wanted to move on as a new man, with a new path ahead of him.

"Harry?"

The driver stopped abruptly, finding Niall Horan coming to him.

"Mr Horan."

"Hello. What are you doing here?"

"Had lunch with..." Harry turned around at the restaurant but resolved not to add the information. "Just lunch. How about you, sir? Lunch?"

" Sir? Jesus, no. We're practically the same age. Call me Niall." The CFO responded with a smile. "And yes, I brought your boss for lunch. He has been neglecting himself."

"Oh?" Harry panicked a little at the thought of seeing Zayn.

What if he thought ill of him for having a late lunch on a workday?

"Yeah. Oh, here he comes...Zed!" Niall whistled back to the restaurant, as Zayn came out. Curiously enough, seconds later Liam and Louis walked out. The two of them looked at Zayn, then whispered before moving away. "Look who I found!"

Zayn appeared and was surprised to see Harry. "Oh. Harry. Hello."

"Mr Malik," Harry insisted. "I just left lunch with some friends and I'm on my way to pick up Mrs Malik-"

"It's okay, you don't have to justify anything," Zayn added. Then, he turned to Niall. "We need to go, Jakarta is waiting."

"Mate, relax - we don't have to go right away. We can still have some coffee. Harry, would you join us?"

Harry opened his mouth, letting a faint "I-"

"Didn't you hear him? He has to pick up my mother for something," Zayn insisted. "Come on, Jakarta is important. We're running late already, it was supposed to be at 03h00pm. Sorry, Harry. Some other time, perhaps?"

"Sure,"

"Let's go, Niall."

Zayn walked away towards Niall's car, leaving the CFO behind. Niall looked at Harry, pocketing his hands "I promise you, he's nicer when he's not stressed. See you around, Harry."

"Bye, Mr...erm...Niall."

"Good lad."

****

Meetings, after meetings, after calls, after meetings. Zayn got into his car at the end of the day exhausted. Jonathan drove quietly, but unlike his time with Harry, and despite the years Jonathan had been driving for him, Zayn did not relax enough to sleep in the backseat.

The board meeting would be happening the next morning, in the first hour and he was agitated. He wondered what the reaction of the board members would be to the information he had to deliver.

If the measures they'd approve for cutting costs would be received. How the overall feel of the meeting would go. It was his first and he was dreading it with the fire of a thousand suns.

So much so that, as soon as he had gotten back from his lunch with Niall, Zayn ran to the bathroom and threw everything up. He sat on the floor, close to the toilet, and tried to calm himself.

Losing the company a month after he stepped in as a new Chairman would be a disaster. He would lose control of the company and his father would never forgive him.

He had dinner with his mother and sisters, not paying attention to whatever they were talking about and not finishing his food. Zayn's mind was twirling with the topics to be discussed in the meetings.

Had they covered everything? Has that information been removed from the PowerPoint? Was the presentation too big? Any spelling mistakes or miscommunications? We're the graphics up to date?

His phone pinged, with an email. He looked at the email from Xander's team with the latest report of the accounts. Zayn sat up immediately, looking at the PDF file and seeing it was twenty pages long.

"Where are you going?" Trisha asked, seeing him stand up from the table. "You barely touched his food."

"I need to read this report-"

"It can wait."

"No, it can't."

"Zayn, just sit," Saffaa begged across from him. "Please?"

"Later, okay?"

"You're going to exhaust yourself!" Wali shouted.

Ignoring their requests, Zayn sent the report to print from his phone, and, by the time he entered his room, some of the pages were already coming out of the machine. As the report materialized in front of his eyes, he grabbed his phone and called Niall.

" I got it, "

"Have you read it?"

" Not yet. I'm having dinner with my wife, you know?"

"I'll have Denise make copies of these for all board members. I'll just email her."

"At this hour of the night?"

"She can come early and do it."

" Have you had dinner, Zed?"

Zayn forwarded the email to Denise with a high priority level, for her to as soon as she came into the office.

"We have to add this to the presentation-"

"Zayn?"

"Don't worry. I'll do it. I know exactly where it should go-"

"Zayn."

"I think it's a good presentation now. We were missing this key information. I think we're good-"

" Zayn!"

"What?"

"Stop!" Niall demanded. "The presentation is good. Denise will print it when she's at the office. Eat. Rest. We have a long morning tomorrow and it's no use if you're all fried."

Zayn paused watching the last piece of paper come out of the printer.

"Maybe I can print them myself, no?"

"Oh, my God. I promise I will snitch to your mother."

"Okay. Okay." Zayn added. "See you tomorrow."

"Have some tea. Sleep. See you tomorrow."

Sleep?

No. He couldn't sleep. He read the report time and time again. Fixed the presentation time and time again. The hours ticked away, and the house quieted down with his sisters heading to bed and his mother too.

The sky darkened, the moon came out and the night creatures were out to hunt.

Finally, when the clock struck 02h00, and after he read the presentation for the hundredth time, Zayn felt at ease. He knew everything back to back. Every number, every detail, every date - he had memorized it all and was locked and loaded.

He fell on the bed, his body feeling tired, but his mind active. Different scenarios played in his mind of how the meeting would go.

That's when he heard a faint whistle in the distance. A soft melody was brought to him by the wind. Zayn sat up on his bed, looking out of his window. The whistle stopped, being replaced by a soft hum.

He got out of bed, walked over to the window, and caught Harry wandering about under his window and disappearing out of sight.

Without thinking...

Without realizing what he was doing...

Zayn ran out of his bedroom, down the hall, down the long stairs, and across the living room. He opened his front door quietly and then came out - Looking to his left, he saw Harry appear moving further away from the house with lazy strides. Hands in his pockets, looking up at the sky and not walking in a straight line. Taken by curiosity, Zayn came down the steps and followed Harry down the road, into the garden.

In silence, he followed Harry down the path keeping some distance.

He thought he was being stealthy and mysterious, heading into the gardens of the mansion and following his driver around.

However, when Harry stopped abruptly and turned around, Zayn froze.

"What are you doing?"

"I-I should be asking you that," Zayn wondered curiously. "You're wondering about my gardens."

Harry gave him a death glare, strong enough to make his heart somersault.

"Is that against regulations?"

"No,"

"Then, what?"

Zayn frowned slightly and changed his tone reminding Harry that he was the boss.

"Why are you out wandering at 02h00am in the morning? In fact, why do you always go out on walks so late at night?"

"I can't sleep," Harry responded drily. "I have a hard time sleeping."

"Are you an insomniac or something?"

"No, I was in jail," Harry added. "Creepy things happened in the night."

Zayn froze for a moment understanding the depth of Harry's revelation.

"Like what?"

The driver arched his eyebrow, hinting that it wasn't something to be shared like that.

"Good night, Mr Malik." Harry turned on his heels and continued walking down the garden. Watching him walk away, Zayn felt compelled to follow him. Slow steps behind Harry, watching him move away from him. Harry stopped again, turning around "Yes?"

Zayn kept walking until he was up close to Harry. Has he always been this tall?

"Does walking help?"

"Yes,"

"Mind if I join?"

"It's your garden."

"It's your walk."

Harry showed him a smile, stepping to the side. "After you..."

The two walked a little bit more in silence, side by side, under the moon and on a cold night.

"So, what did you go to jail for?"

"Whoa..." Harry commented, with hands in his pockets. "Right outta the gate, huh?"

"I'm curious, Harry. And it is a fair question. As your boss, I demand an answer."

"I thought I had the job already."

"I can always change my mind."

"You would fire me because I refused to answer your questions?"

"Are you refusing, Harry?"

"No, Mr Malik. I'm not." The two wandered side by side for a while. Zayn gave Harry enough room to tell his story. "It's a bit of a long story."

"Well, you're an insomniac. I'm too anxious to sleep. Seems like a great recipe."

"Calling me boring?"

"Not at all," Zayn responded. The CEO stopped walking, with Harry mirroring him. "I won't judge. I promise."

Harry looked at him with such intensity that Zayn, for a moment, forgot to breathe. Had his eyes always been this sparkly green?

"All right," Harry responded. "I'll tell you, but only if I'm allowed to ask questions too."

"What questions?"

"Any question? It'll be between us. I promise."

Zayn showed a naughty smirk, starting to pace again. Harry followed him quietly.

"That's a deal, Harry."

"Wonderful, Zayn..."

The two shared shy smiles as they continued to walk under the moon.

Chapter Text

"So...Five years is a long time."

The driver showed him a crooked smirk, as he continued ahead. Harry could sense that Zayn was curious about him and having him curious, made him proud.

He liked the thought of someone wanting to know more of him, wanting to peel all his layers and chase him down. It made him all tingly inside.

Just not right away.

Zayn was his type. Dark hair, dark eyes, and skin that looked delicious to taste. Such a beautiful face, but with a lingering mysterious veil over him. And under the moonlight, he was just as riveting. Harry kept to himself, but if he could, he'd reach over and let his imagination run wild with desire.

He knew Zayn had been watching from his window. Harry played his midnight strolls towards his bosses' curiosity and the fact that Zayn was walking with him made him happy.

Love, or even any kind of intimacy, had been such a distant thought to Harry.

In prison, he kept to himself, but he knew he was wanted and desired by many of them. Still, he found solace in himself, rather than falling into the hands of others and risking contracting something dangerous.

Or even dying.

However, he was eager for it. Zayn was the first man that made Harry want to break his unwanted celibacy. How he moved, how he sounded, how he smelled...just hitting all points of interest. He was as enticing as that moon in the sky reflecting down on them. Zayn had his gravitational pull and Harry was already following.

For the past week, Harry had been trying to control his heartbeat, so it wouldn't betray his new emotions. He had been feeling this way ever since he understood that Zayn was watching him from the window.

It was like a game of cat and mouse, where he tried to show, but not give the idea that he was aware that he was being watched. Knowing that Zayn was close, and had shown any kind of interest, made his heart jump. That made him want more interaction, aside from the short conversations they had when he came home.

Zayn was so pretty and docile. He was loving, and caring and seemed to give his all. Sometimes from the kitchen, Harry could hear his voice and hoped he'd come in to greet them, but Zayn never showed.

Now, here they were. With him walking ahead into the unknown. Harry couldn't hide the smirk on his lips.

Zayn looked back at him and Harry understood he had been watching him for a long time, without answering his initial remark.

"Well, in reality, it was fifteen years."

"Fifteen?"

"Yes," Harry responded with a sigh. "The judge slammed the gavel and said fifteen years. I was...devastated, but not entirely surprised."

"For what?"

"Organised crime, drug trafficking and money laundering," Harry responded in one go. "I was a different person by then."

He then looked at Zayn. Harry focused on his perfect lips and beautiful features. He wanted to be closer. Perhaps even kiss him. Perhaps worship his body as he deserved.

Or, better yet and he hoped dearly, let Zayn worship him. Show Zayn what pleasure could feel and look like. He was well built, a little bit shorter, but that wasn't a problem - he loved being the tallest one and having a pretty look at.

"So, how did you go from fifteen to five?"

"One beautiful, cold morning, about three months into my sentence, a detective came to me, accompanied by a representative of the Crown, and offered me a sentence reduction, if I shared information."

Zayn stopped walking, looking at him with curiosity. Even frowning he was beautiful.

"They wanted you to rat?"

"Yes," Harry responded. "Give them a bunch of information on my organisation, and others we had partnerships with on the outside. It was this big...network. And the police were working hard to take them down. They were working alongside Interpol and local authorities. It was a massive operation and my testimony tied it all together."

"I'm assuming you did, otherwise you wouldn't be here, right now," Zayn concluded. Harry began walking ahead, with long strides. The mansion was far behind them and they were entering the untamed property. "Wait...How are you-"

"Alive if I'm a bloody rat?"

"Yes."

"I have friends in high places."

Zayn stopped again, this time with his mind firing different scenarios and questions all at once. The driver showed him a kind smile. He was so beautiful when he thought about something, with striking features and innocence so beautiful that could get him on his knees.

"I promise you, I'm not that man anymore. I haven't been around any of those people and I don't want to either. I don't like who I was back then - I was...hurting and trying to get approval from them. It was never really me."

"What made you change?"

Harry pondered for a moment, thinking of his conversation with Louis.

"I understood that sometimes loyalty is not an assured thing," Harry explained, but Zayn seemed even more lost. "You know that dilemma about the train cart where you have to choose whether you kill ten people to say one or kill one to save ten? I was the one."

"That's terrible."

"Yeah. Well, I'm out now, so it doesn't matter and I'm not in the life anymore."

"What was jail like?"

The driver crossed his arms, tilting his head to the side a little. Zayn was so curious, so genuine and intrigued. Harry loved to see it.

"I believe it's my time to ask questions now, Mr Malik."

"I'm invested in your story, Harry."

"I bet. I'm rather charming. However, if we are to continue this midnight walk, you should play fair." Harry's gaze made the young CEO's heart skip a beat and Harry saw it all over his face. It was the little things. "What's happening tomorrow and why are you so nervous?"

Zayn closed his eyes momentarily feeling the familiar feeling of anxiety coming to him again. He had been feeling great during this walk, but now that Harry asked his question, he was nervous again.

"It's my first meeting as head of the board of administration. I'm succeeding my father who was on it since the beginning and who I kicked out, essentially, due to poor management. And I came in at the worst time possible." Zayn began walking again with hands in his pockets and head lowered. Harry followed a little behind, giving him space and time to continue his explanation. "We found out there was a leak in the company: someone was stealing money. Had been stealing over the past five years. I'm presenting the entire report tomorrow.'

'Not only that, because we have been losing money steadily and faster than what we were making, there's a big hole in our company. And we have to cover it. So, we need to implement key changes like change suppliers, cut budgets short and, the worst of them all, close offices, factories, labs - which equals firing people."

"Add all of that to the ongoing resentment because I ended all the credit cards, changed security measures, rerouted budget approvals to be with Niall and told nothing to the board. So I'm not a favourite, right now."

Zayn stopped feeling the weight of his responsibility. Ahead of him a meadow of green, with some old trees, went as far as the eye could see.

Harry stood behind him, looking ahead as well.

"And you hate that,"

"I hate it," Zayn let out, opening his heart. "I hate that I will possibly have to fire people and change everything within a company that my father worked so hard to create."

"And you're scared."

"Terrified," Zayn concluded. "Terrified that this is the worst idea ever. That this is the worst solution ever. That I'm not good at my job. That the company will crumble under my command and we will lose everything because I'm trying to fix something that wasn't even my doing."

"And even more because you didn't want to do it in the first place. It's a duty for you, not your dream."

Zayn was surprised by Harry's statement and, for the first time, he felt compelled to agree.

"Yes."

"It's hard being the oldest son and the one who is given this big task."

Zayn scoffed.

"Do you know what I'd rather be doing? Sitting on the floor with a joint in my hand and  blank page." Zayn confessed with a lazy smile. "But...I can't. I'm a Malik. I have a duty to this family and to the company."

They stood in silence for what seemed forever. The cold wind lifted around them, shaking the trees and making the grass dance. In silence, Harry walked past him

"Come on. I want to show you something I found the other night,"

Zayn followed him, still stirring his feelings. The moon illuminated the path for them as they kept going in the darkness. The terrain changed, as they were going up a slight hill with a crooked tree on top.

Harry moved with skill, with knowledge of the terrain, casually looking back at Zayn, making sure he was moving okay. He got to the top first, showing his hand and Zayn took it without thinking. Steadily, Harry pulled him up with a strong grip.

Once they were at the top, the view was amazing. It was possible to see the entire compound of this uber-rich gated community. The mansions glowed in the night like vessels of money in a sea of nothing.

Harry noticed how hard Zayn was breathing - the walk hadn't been that intense or hard. It was fairly simple.

So, he quickly assessed that Zayn was out of breath for something else.

Instinctively, he grabbed the CEO's wrist.

"Hey, what-"

"Hang on," Harry demanded, feeling for his pulse. With two fingers resting against his soft skin, Harry saw an inch of what appeared to be a tattoo coming from under his sleeve. "Your pulse is rushed. Are you tired?"

"No,"

"Then, you're panicking."

"No, I'm not-"

"You are," Harry confirmed, getting into his space. He was so close that the scent of his perfume had become more intense. "Look at me,"

"Harry, I'm not-"

"Just do as I say. Come on. Look at me." Zayn locked eyes with Harry, focusing on him. Harry felt he was falling into those beautiful brown eyes, as dark as night. Zayn had his lips parted, breathing a little harder and Harry squeezed his wrist a bit. "Okay, now let's take a big breath."

"Harry-"

"Shhh..." He demanded softly, noticing Zayn biting his lip slightly. It was the subtle things and Harry was picking on all of them: the pulse, the glimmer in his eyes, how he bit his lips... "Big breath in." Zayn mimicked him, holding it in. "Now out, through the lips." And Zayn did it too, breathing softly. "Again."

They did this for a few more minutes. Staring into each other's eyes, doing breathing exercises in the middle of the night.

For Harry, there was something in the air. Something in the particles, moving around him and how the ether became heavier. Time slowed down, just like Zayn's pulse.

For Zayn, it felt like he was under hypnosis, but didn't want to fight it. Harry was like the sun pulling him in, keeping him warm even with the cold wind blowing.

As the seconds dragged on, he noticed something new in Harry's face and the more he found, the more he adored.

They stood like that for minutes, but it seemed like forever. Time stopped as two strangers, who were more connected than they thought, fell into one another.

Sometimes, the first steps of love and devotion were just like that.

"I-I think I'm good..."

Harry let go of his pulse and the two kept a safe distance.

They both felt different.

Tingling all over, the feeling spreading from the tips of their fingers, up their arms and bouncing off their hearts.

Something a teenager would feel when their crush would walk past them in the hallways. Silence was the best approach, however, it made the moment that much more intense.

Harry placed his hand discreetly over his stomach, as it dipped in excitement and Zayn chose to calm his nerves in the darkened landscape.

The young CEO looked into the distance appreciating the night landscape.

"Where are we?"

"Not far," Harry responded. "I found this place by accident. I like the view. I come up here and imagine who lives in those big houses."

"I can tell you," Zayn pointed to a big one on the furthest side and Harry came closer to him, following his guidance. "That house there is owned by a man who developed the system that allows online transactions - Google bought him out." Then Zayn moved a little to the side. "That one works at Oracle and his neighbour at Adobe." He looked over his shoulder, pointing out into the distance. "That one is of one of our biggest competitors - some Pfizer administrator and behind him a board member for Johnson & Johnson. Essentially, all of them are working in pharmaceutical companies, tech, banking and oil. Our house is not even one of the biggest."

"Oh, I see that. That Oracle gent has you beat. Look at the size of that house, it looks like it has about five bedrooms."

"Seven," Zayn added. "And a sauna. A gym. A cinema...Trust me, our house is not that big. Besides, they don't like us that much."

"Why?"

"Because we are what they call "new money". Also we treat our staff like human beings, we're private and oh, we are not white and not European."

"Oh..."

Zayn snorted a laugh and Harry followed. Harry loved to see his smile, it was so genuine and so open.

"It doesn't bother me. I don't want them anywhere near my family anyway. Bunch of snobs."

"You should smile more," Zayn looked at him with surprise. "I know that sentence is destroyed now, but...you look...better when you smile. Lighter." Again, Zayn smiled and Harry mirrored him. "See?"

"So, this is what a woman feels when a man tells her to smile more-"

"Oh, wait...I...well, I didn't mean it like that-"

"I'm sure, you didn't."

"Just..." Harry scoffed a smile, feeling his cheeks grow warmer. "Your smile is too beautiful to be hidden away. That's all."

"You're blushing, Harry-"

"Yeah..."

"Why?"

"Because..." Harry scratched his head, looking down. "I don't know...Have I crossed a line with that? I don't know...I don't want you to...I don't know think I'm...doing something...I don't know..."

"I liked it." Zayn completed with softness. "You don't have to blush, even though you look adorable when you do."

"Adorable?" The driver repeated, with a hand over his heart. "Okay. I'll take it. I'm adorable."

"You are,"

Again another pause with that bubbling tingly feeling coming to the tips of their fingers and tapdancing in the pit of their stomach.

"What about the board?" Harry asked, turning back on track before things got too out of hand. "Your board of administrators, are they going to suffer with any of the cuts you're trying to implement?"

The young CEO paused for a moment. It had never occurred to him, to hit those who spend the most out of the company.

"Can I do that?"

"Aren't you the boss?"

"Yes, but I can't-"

"Why not?" Harry asked. "In my business, the...well, let's say managers, who worked under my boss and distributed the product around, all got cuts whenever shit went bad. That's how you know, you are all in the same boat. If the boss is unhappy, everyone gets hit on the head - makes everyone sharp and no room for fuck ups."

"Drug dealing is not the same as a company."

"You're wrong. It's the same. Perhaps with one singular difference: we're loyal in the drug business. Corporate world? I'm not so sure."

"You said you went down because your partners were not loyal to you."

Harry showed his s crooked smile and Zayn mirrored him.

"Yes, I did," he responded with a smile, smiling more. "I'm just saying if you're going to cut across the board, then cut across the board ."

Harry watched Zayn closely, seeing the wheels turn behind his eyes as the idea slowly materialised in his head.

"You're evil," Zayn commented and Harry let out a chuckle that echoed around in the green meadow. "You are. I like it."

"Well, I'm glad you like my bad boy side."

"I love a bad boy,"

The words linger between them, neither of them daring to add anything more to the context.

"You're going to do great tomorrow, at the meeting," Harry assured once they settled. "I can see how much you care about your company and its people. Your board will have no other way but to follow your lead."

"Think so?"

"I know so," Harry responded with certainty. "There's passion in you or you wouldn't take it so hard. You got it. Anyone who doesn't follow your lead is an idiot."

"You have a lot of faith in me, Harry."

Harry shrugged "I've always been good at reading people. It was part of my job."

"What was your job?"

"I was...A liaison, if you will." Harry explained swinging from side to side. "Let's imagine, you're a new player in town. You want to sell and make a profit on the Eastside, for instance. You know there's competition, but you don't care, we live in a democracy and several mouths can eat from the same plate, right?'

'Wrong. My boss gets word of you because you're drawing in some clients, hurting our margins and damaging our reputation - despite your product not being that much different from ours. So, I come in..."

He's soft and welcoming with his explanation, laying down a visual picture for Zayn to imagine a powerful Harry walking through his doors.

"Then, what happens?"

"We sit down and talk. It's just me, no muscle. I have no gun, either. Just a business conversation where I give you the best proposal you can ever get: join our family, sell from us, and get richer. I offer you a sweet percentage - my pockets were always full. What do you think always happens?"

"Like any deal, I refuse."

"Why?"

"I think my shit's the best and you're just afraid of the competition. Or because I think you can make a better offer."

"Precisely," Harry answered. "So, I walk out. I tell you 'Nice doing business with you' and leave. Do you know who comes after me?"

"No,"

"Good. You don't want to know. You don't want me to leave the room either." Harry added that smirk. "You don't want me to leave at all."

There's this moment of silence between them, where Harry's proposition was clear to him and Zayn hinted at knowing what he meant.

"Why would anyone want you to leave is beyond me. Look at you." They share a knowing smile, standing at the top of the slope looking over the darkened view. "So, what do you suggest I do tomorrow, Harry? I don't have any muscle. It's just me and I need to sway the board in my direction."

"Give in, but don't give up," Harry added. "Keep your hand on the wheel at all times. Let them think they're in charge, but make the rules. Be caring, but stern."

"I see. You would've been a great businessman."

"I was."

"Then, when does driving come from?"

"I've always liked driving," Harry responded. "Before my friend had his business, we used to steal cars together. I learned to drive when I was...12 years old. Sitting behind my dad's jeep. I drove him a couple of times when he was too drunk."

"That's...unfortunate."

The driver shrugged "It's just a detail. I heard you had a car accident."

"Oh, that..."

"I mean if you're not comfortable talking about it-"

"No, no. It's fine." Zayn sat down on the grass next to him and Harry mimicked. They sat together, their knees almost touching. "I was with...a...friend, I guess. Ben was his name. He was...the driver before you. We had an argument while driving, he was gunning on the motorway and I was screaming at him to stop the car or he'd kill us both. I did a stupid thing, grabbed the wheel and the car swerved off the road. We tumbled a couple of times. It wasn't...good. We nearly died. Since then, I scarcely drive or I sit in the back while someone drives me."

"I'm sorry you went through that. Where's that driver now?"

"I don't know," His jaw hardened and Harry read some resentment within him. "Don't care. He lied. He was a reporter trying to get intel on my family...complicated stuff. Unnecessary stuff. I was stupid too, I thought I was... in love with him and he broke my heart."

Harry watched Zayn carefully seeing the sadness in his eyes and how broken his heart sounded by those words. He wanted to heal his wounds and make him feel better.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you this. It's a complete crossing of the line. I just admitted to having an affair with my previous driver - I don't want you thinking poorly of me."

"Me? Never. Honestly, I'm just wondering if I'd have a shot."

Reading temptation out of someone's eyes is a funny thing.

It's a game of wanting V restricting. The body thinks of jumping into the pool of desire, but the brain demands restraints tossing to the front all the reasons this would be a wrong situation.

The battle going on inside Zayn's brain was visible to Harry. The CEO's eyes wandered about his face, then down at his body and how close they were to one another. Zayn was pondering, teetering that line between being a proper boss and following the cliche of banging the staff. And Harry wouldn't mind if he did cross it.

The driver got to his feet, breaking the tension and looked up at the moon in the sky full of stars. He could feel Zayn's gaze on him, burning at the skin. When he turned, he saw him sitting there looking up at him. He looked beautiful from up there.

"It's almost 04h00 am."

"How do you know?"

"Jail things," He responded with a light shrug. "Come on, it's getting cold and you need to sleep."

They walked back at a calm pace, with little to no conversation. Sometimes, they'd casually glance at one another and smile, but overall they enjoyed each other's company in the silence.

Harry caught the light scent of Zayn's perfume reminiscent of roasted oranges, cinnamon and summer. He noticed how the CEO would run his fingers through his hair or sigh now and then. He seemed relaxed. Perhaps the most relaxed Harry had ever seen him.

"You never told me what jail was like," Zayn asked out of the blue, turning to him and walking backwards. "Is it like the movies?"

"Like the movies. That's a good one."

"I'm curious. What was it like?"

"Sleepless nights, tense and crowded," Harry retorted. "I had my cell, though."

"A privilege prisoner."

"It pays to rat,"

Zayn smirked showing him the tip of his pink tongue and Harry wanted to taste it.

"Any lovers?"

Harry paused for a moment before answering. Zayn was fishing for him. As Zayn walked backwards looking at him, Harry felt he was being led deeper into temptation.

"Don't think that's a proper question for my boss to be asking."

"You're off the clock,"

Harry smiled at him full of dimples and Zayn mirrored him, as he walked backwards.

"No one. For some time now."

"Huh..."

"What? Are you judging?"

"Not at all. Just figured a man like you would have someone..."

"No. Not really." Harry asserted. "You? How do you feel about this Ben?"

"I don't. We're done. He lied. The end."

"Very stern of you," Harry concluded. "What was he like?"

"Too perfect," Zayn concluded. "I should've seen it, but I was blinded."

"Did your family know?"

"No. The only one who knew of us was Niall."

They lingered in silence. Zayn turned around, walking normally and soon Harry caught up with him, walking at his side.

"Do you like your work, Zayn?"

"I have to."

"Not the answer I was looking for."

"I like some of it. Dislike other parts. Overall it is tolerable."

"Are you a good boss?"

"Ah, are you trying to see if I'm an obnoxious prick?"

"Yes,"

"Well, what do you think?" Zayn asked, coming to a halt. "Am I a good boss?"

The driver paused, crossing his arms over his chest. It was impossible to not linger even though it was against the preliminary driver's rule book.

"To be determined."

"Outch, Harry."

"Well, Mr Malik, technically I don't drive you. I drive your mother. And she's an amazing woman."

"I signed your contract."

"It remains to be seen, still. But, from what I can tell, you seem rather...competent."

Zayn tossed his head back and let out a chuckle. "Competent. Okay. I'll take it."

They kept walking with the house appearing closer and closer. Their muscles were throbbing from the hike and their temperature slightly rose from the exercise.

As they approached the house, Zayn let out a melodic yawn.

"Someone's feeling sleepy," They stopped by the steps with Zayn rubbing his left eye. Harry wanted to walk him to bed and sleep by his side all night. "The walk helped."

"It did," Zayn let out another small yawn, then stood straight looking at his driver. "Thank you for this. I feel better."

"Here to help, Zayn."

"See you tomorrow?"

"More like in a few hours,"

The two smiled at one another, feeling something happening, but unable to give it a name or wanting to give it a structure.

Zayn went up the steps of the house, while Harry waited for him to go inside.

When the door clicked shut, Harry allowed himself to smile, blush and for his heart to do jumping jacks inside his chest. He headed back to the spare room, quietly returning to his little space inside the gigantic mansion.

He pictured Zayn going up to his room, taking off his clothes and getting into bed at the same time he did. When he was tucked in his bed, head on the pillow the only picture on his mind was of Zayn walking ahead of him. His voice. His scent. And how badly Harry wanted a taste of him.

Up in his room, Zayn let his head fall on the pillows. With a hand over his heart, he sensed its strong beat. He wasn't sure of what had happened in that hour and a half they had been walking, but it left him excited. Intrigued.

The CEO turned to the side, seeing the moon still in the sky casting its light into the landscape. He remembered Harry walking next to him, how he had long strides and how his curls kept swaying in the wind. The more he thought about it, the more he smiled and his face grew warm.

The following morning, Harry woke up with a smile on his face. He couldn't quite explain why, but he felt a lingering excitement rumbling inside his chest. Zayn had been so welcoming and charming, he wanted nothing more than to go back in time to that night again. The driver had been so excited he even dreamt that they kept walking until the sun came up.

A dream so vivid, he wondered if he had been indeed real. Grabbing his phone, he sat up against his headboard - he was deep into an old habit he had back at the organisation: searching for the enemy. Only this time, Zayn was anything but an enemy.

He fired up his search engine, typing Zayn Malik's name. The first page produced a handful of links and the images showed recent pictures of him. He clicked on the first link: the alumni page for an ivy league university gave the minimum information about him.

But Harry wanted the dirty stuff.

So he kept searching, coming in and out of blogs dedicated to the life of the rich.

A bachelor, Zayn was always rumoured to be connected to this heiress or that model, but nothing was ever confirmed. He was scarcely in public, but when he did he was always accompanying his mother or his father.

Within the company, he had a small research team, with little to no budget, but managed to get results in whatever field he was looking for. People who knew him said he was funny, loved music and was very protective of his family, especially the women. He was also known for his philanthropic work, rumoured to be the one behind some of the major causes for children and education.

A true gentleman, Harry thought.

He went into the pictures, seeing them one by one. God, he was handsome!

And stylish!

There was an entire blog post dedicated to dissecting his style of dressing, and his combination of colours and accessories. He was loved, respected and cherished by the big public, even though he was rarely in public.

Harry caught a picture of his face. He was at some gala, with longer hair, dressed in black and that one strand of hair fell on his face. He looked dashing. Harry zoomed in on his face, reading the lines of the contour of his jawline, his perfect nose and cheekbones. How his eyes were brown, but with a dash of hazel in them. Or was it honey? It did look green too!

He liked Zayn's minimalist style, his quiet demeanour and how mysterious he was. Harry wanted to peel all those layers and look within.

He wanted to see more of this relaxed Zayn and wondered what he looked like in more intimate scenarios: Would he relax his shoulders more? Stretch out that lovely neck? Perhaps relax his body against something soft?

He would probably enjoy tenderness, dedication and all types of slow loving - just like Harry liked to give. He would probably surrender easily with the right set of words. Harry could almost bet, he was light and not too heavy. He could sit perfectly on his lap - what a sight it would be to look up at a pretty face.

Perhaps even bad a good thing on hi. and knew how to work it. Harry was intrigued.

Seeing those beautiful eyelashes flutter, those pink lips parted and his name coming out like silk-

A knock on the door brought him back from the dreamlands and he hid his phone aside.

"Yes?"

The door opened slightly and a blonde head popped in. Harry identified Camille and her shy smile.

"Morning, Harry." Her eyes went big when noticing he was not wearing a shirt, only his boxers under the sheets. "Pardon me, want me to come back?"

"No, not at all. I just woke up." Camille seemed to go a shade redder, her eyes darting from every tattoo visible. "Everything alright?"

"Just...Just came to get you for breakfast and tell you that Mrs Malik has an early meeting."

"The board meeting,"

"The very same."

"I'll be right there. Thank you."

"Sure..."

Camille lingered for a second looking at his tattoos, before snapping back and walking out of the room. Harry tossed his sheets aside, standing from the bed.

He stretched wide, with his muscles tensing up and joints cracking as he did. He felt refreshed and in a good mood. While walking towards the bathroom, he walked past the slim mirror on his closet door.

He stopped looking at himself. Mostly at his black boxers.

He had an erection ready to be put to use.

Up on his floor, Zayn finished dressing up. He had chosen a blue suit, with a white shirt but no tie. He didn't care that the tattoos on his torso were showing - he was following Harry's advice: giving in, but not giving up.

As he sprayed his neck with perfume, his eyes wandered out of the garden. From his window, he could see the hill where he and Harry had sat the night before. It seemed a lot more distant at night. He thought of Harry and what an odd...no, not odd. That was an unfair assessment. What a curious person he was.

Harry seemed strict, but showed a level of depth and understanding that Zayn didn't expect. He was kind, loving and open. A smile to die for, with this lingering veil of smugness that made Zayn twitch. He seemed arrogant if given enough room to spread his peacock feathers.

The CEO could see Harry walk into a room, demanding to be heard and presenting a tempting proposal. He imagined he could be a smooth talker, spread out on a sofa with arms draped over the back and a glass in one hand. Landing a soft threat, always with a smile. He would want to stay, not leave. He would want to get the target's full attention and be respectful. Never raise his voice, speak low, calmly and with a glimmer in his eye.

He wondered what it would feel like to say no to him. To challenge Harry. Would that make one feel fear or a tingly sensation of excitement? Harry seemed to challenge the word no. He would always push forward with a subtly impossible to resist. What if...that made someone want to say no even harder?

They talked about so many things, that he couldn't quite understand how he managed to open his heart to a stranger. He wasn't sorry or embarrassed, just surprised at his openness. There was this lingering excitement within him - no it wasn't because of the meeting. It was because of Harry. How it was all new and enticing. Zayn kept playing little moments of their walk and it seemed...like a dream. He wondered if Harry felt the same or was this emotion just a one-sided, silly thing, for a grown man to feel. Either way, he liked it.

Zayn snapped himself off his mind, setting his perfume bottle aside. He was ready for the day, ready to achieve what needed to be achieved.

One final look in the mirror and he was surprised at the light bump in his pants. He was shocked that it appeared as he thought of Harry and his beautiful face.

"For fucks sake..."

Zayn fixed himself, nestling things and fixing fabric so it wouldn't be so bloody obvious. Once he was done, he grabbed his computer bag and headed out of the bedroom. He nearly bumped into Safaa who was ready for the gym.

"You're up and early," The sister noticed.

"Yes, we have a meeting today. Are you coming?"

"No, mum's our proxy."

Zayn stopped looking at his sister and she shrugged "It would be nice of you to pop on by. All of you."

"We have business with the Foundation today. Besides, Dad never let us in the room."

"I'm not Dad. I want you there. It's our business."

"And you're the best man for it," Saffaa responded with a smile. The girl landed a kiss on his cheek and then walked down the stairs.

It wasn't that the girls weren't allowed in the boardroom. They were. But Yaser was never really a fan of having his two girls in the dirty world of the corporate business - rather having them working within the Foundation with their mother.

Coming down the steps, he walked across the living room finding Safira.

"Jonathan is ready when you are, sir."

"That's great," Zayn responded. He turned to the dining room, finding his mother at the head of the table drinking her coffee. Without saying a word, Zayn pulled a chair and sat down. He was starving. "Morning."

Trisha shared a quick look with Safira, who was just as surprised to see Zayn at the breakfast table.

"Morning, love. How are you?"

"Starving," Zayn responded, grabbing some toast.

"Slept well?"

The CEO paused for a second. He had had the best night's sleep in weeks. As soon as he got to his room, tossed his shoes and wrapped himself in his blankets. He fell asleep almost instantly, still with Harry's voice in his ear.

"Slept amazing," He let out a smile to his mother. "I'm going early to make sure everything is set up."

"Are all the members coming?"

"Every last one of them." Zayn took a bite of his toast. "Except for Dad and the girls."

"Were expecting your father to join?"

"Yes, I know. Silly of me to expect anything from a man who hasn't said a word to me ever since I took his place."

"He doesn't hate you-"

"Oh, yeah. I know. I can tell by the amount of support I got from him. Oh! That's right! I didn't!"

"Zayn-"

"He left the company in a war zone, I have to clean and not even an 'oh, here are the staplers and that's where the coffee is.' Nothing, mum." Trisha let the issue rest, giving Zayn room for his feelings. The young CEO took another bite from his toast, before getting up from his seat. He landed a quick kiss on his mother, before walking out of the dining room with a short "I'll see you soon."

Zayn left the house in a hurry. As he approached his car, where Jonathan waited with an open door, he dared to look around.

He caught Harry coming out of the house already dressed and waiting for his mother. The two shared a lingering look, but did not acknowledge one another further than that.

The previous night was still very vivid between them and it seemed that if they dared to even reflect on that moment, it would make it less real.

Instead, Zayn got into the backseat of his car. The door closed behind him, but through the front side mirror, he saw Harry. The driver kicked a pebble, then sighed before heading back into the house.

Chapter Text

When Niall got to the office, he was already prepared for the battle ahead. He had been by Zayn's side since day one and he would continue. He believed in Zayn, in his vision and in how he wanted the future of the company to be. He was also aware that it was his eyes that caught this entire situation; Niall was proud and glad that Zayn had listened to him and validated his thoughts and opinions.

They met during University, instantly clicking on that first week of getting to know a new space. Contrary to those friendships people make at the beginning of a school year and end up breaking apart through the course of the months, these two remained inseparable. Niall was Zayn's defender and protector. Zayn went to battle for Niall in any circumstance, Joined at the hip, they laughed, cried, got drunk and stressed together.

It would be a tough morning. Niall knew that Zayn was probably stressed out of his mind, and probably hadn't eaten or slept. It was on him to steer his friend into a calmer state. Stand by his side, as they faced the cavalry of an old board of administration who saw them as nothing but little boys wearing big pants. 

Niall parked his grey Mercedes in the garage, rode the elevator greeted fellow workers and entered his floor. The first thing he noticed was the printer running as pages and pages came out - he noticed last night's report was being printed. All 20 copies of it.

He caught Denise walking down the hall in a rush.

"Morning, Denise."

"Morning, Niall."

"You seem busy."

"I bloody am," Denise responded walking past him and heading to a small room. The assistant grunted and cussed until she pulled a case full of bottles of water. Niall rushed over to help her get them off the ground, placing them on her desk. "He's been here since 08h00. He beat me to it."

"Did he sleep at the office?"

"No," Denise replied, taking a few bottles of water out of the plastic case. "He seems... relaxed ."

"Relaxed?"

"Yes. Like...he has it all under control. He's not nearly as nervous as he appeared to be these past days. And, he ate what I brought him."

"Where is he?"

"In his office."

Niall walked back to Zayn's office, knocking gently. He pushed the door, catching Zayn standing behind his desk holding a cup of coffee, chewing what seemed to be the last piece of a sandwich.

Zayn looked at him and smiled.

"Hi, mate."

"Zayn?" He did seem better. Rested. And unusually cheered. His friend drank the cup of coffee with gusto, as he looked down at his computer. "You okay?"

"Fine, why?"

"You're...drinking coffee...and seem rested."

" I slept quite well."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I..." Zayn cleared his throat, looking down. "Went for a walk last night."

Niall paused for a moment. Zayn was not looking at him and seemed rather interested in his computer.

He was...ashamed? Could it be? Or was it embarrassed? Shy?

The CFO walked closer to the desk, with a smirk coming to his lips.

"A walk? "

"Yes,"

"Alone?"

"No,"

"With...?"

Instead of answering, Zayn drank a bit of his coffee.

"Have the big wigs arrived yet?"

"No, we still have an hour to go." Niall insisted. "Who did you go-"

"You know, I have a good feeling about this meeting." Zayn declared, with a puffed chest. "Our solutions seem clear and focused. The report seems pretty easy to understand..."

"Okay-"

The CEO walked around the desk and headed to the board room, as he rambled on, partially led by caffeine.

"I'll conduct the meeting, but you can just jump in whenever necessary."

"Sure,"

"And I've been thinking..." Zayn paused with a hand on the handle of the door. "If we must let people go, then we will - but we'll do it correctly."

"Always."

"I don't want to let those who gave us so much down. I want to respect their work and what they gave to this company." Zayn responded. "It's killing me inside, but we have to."

"It's a good decision, mate." Niall agreed. Carefully, the CFO approached his friend, still with a hint of curiosity lingering within him. "Listen, I just want to know-"

"You know Mum is representing my sisters, right?" Zayn asked, grabbing his door and heading out. Niall followed him, seeing how the CEO walked with secure strides, straight back and raised chin. It was the first time, in a month, that he seemed like the old Zayn and not his sombre self. "She's their proxy."

"Your mother has always served as your sister's proxy."

"Yes, but I was hoping to see them around the table. I want them to be in the company too. My dad didn't think they should, but I do. It's our business."

Zayn drank the rest of his coffee, as he entered the board room. Ahead of them, the oval-shaped wooden table would be the stage for the meeting happening in a few hours.

Denise placed small bottles of water next to glasses turned upside down for all the members. The CEO would be sitting at the head, with Niall at his right and his mother at his left, as usual.

"Everything will go fine," Niall guaranteed, standing next to his friend. Seeing an opening for his curiosity to finally find solace, he tried: "So, who did you go on a walk with?"

"What?"

"You said you went on a walk last night. With whom?"

The CEO shrugged, looking at the table. The seconds dragged before he opened his mouth.

"Harry."

Denise froze her movements, with the last bottle of water hovering inches over the table, as her mouth fell open. Niall squinted, with his head tilted and wanting to bury the CEO in question.

However, he needed to tread carefully or Zayn would clam up and not say a word.

"Harry?"

"Yes. The new driver."

"The one...who drives for your mum?"

"Yes."

"The same one...who goes on...midnight walks in your...garden?"

"Hm hm..."

"Just...the two of you ...at night?" Niall turned to Denise and frowned. "Wasn't there a full moon last night-?"

"Denise, are you printing the report?" Zayn asked.

The secretary blinked for a moment, before returning to her motion of carefully placing the bottle of water on the table.

"Yes," She responded softly. "I'll have them on the table by the time we begin."

"Good. I'll be in my office answering some emails - let me know when everyone's seated."

The CEO abandoned the meeting room, leaving the two behind. Denise's eyes were twice as big and Niall showed a smile.

Could this be a new opportunity for Zayn to heal from Ben?

Instead of commenting on it, in fear of jinxing whatever could happen, the CFO placed his index on his lips, begging for discretion. The secretary winked back, understanding his request.

It had been a long time since Zayn even mentioned someone else. This needed to be treated with care.

The morning rolled around and Zayn began feeling a light level of anxiety. His knee wouldn't stop trembling under the table and the caffeine was rushing into his system.

He could hear the voices of people walking past his door, to the boardroom, a combination of steps that sounded like the death march. He was still seated and would remain until it was time for him to go. He hated chit-chat and was not about to pretend to be nice with people he was about to argue with.

He waited for the march of the administration to be over. A soft knock came about the office room and Denise appeared.

"We're ready,"

Zayn got up from his seat, grabbed his blazer and headed out of the office. To his surprise, he almost bumped into the person he least expected to see.

"Harry."

Zayn's heart did a somersault when he saw him. It was as if Harry had been a dream until that moment and now was full reality standing in front of him. Hair combed back, that worn-out suit, with that tie and shirt. If he was anxious before, now...he was trembling all over.

"Morning, Mr Malik."

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to drop your mum."

"No, what are you doing here? On this floor?"

"Oh, I told him to come up," Denise responded with a soft smirk. "Offered him a cup of coffee just out of courtesy."

"Huh..." The CEO noticed that Harry was holding a tiny espresso cup. "Denise, won't you go in? I'll be there in a minute."

"Certainly,"

The secretary grabbed her notebook and a pen, then gave Harry one final smile before leaving the two together.

It was weird seeing a dream in real life. The CEO didn't know how to act and he feared containing his feelings. Ben had hurt him so much and there was so much on his plate right now, that even admiring Harry seemed like a far-fetched idea.

But, there he was, standing in front of him. With that glimmer in his eyes, that soft smile on his lips and eyes with the same level of intensity he had seen him the night before.

"Slept well?"

Zayn responded. "Yes. You?"

"Wonderful."

Zayn could feel his palms begin to sweat, his heart pounding and melting on the floor. When Harry moved closer to him, he didn't know what to do, so he just stood still. Harry got so close, Zayn could smell his vanilla perfume.

"Remember: give in, but don't give up. You'll do great. I'm sure."

"You have a lot of faith in me."

"I believe in you," Harry responded with a smile. "And I know if anyone can do it, it's you."

Zayn blushed for a moment.

"I'm only a competent boss, remember? You said it."

"You might be a competent boss, but I'm sure you're a great man. You look like it too." Harry whispered back at him. Leaving him with one last lingering look, Harry tossed the tiny cup into the bin. "See you later. Mr Malik."

Harry walked down the hall and disappeared from his sight. Zayn stood in the middle of the hallway fighting the urge to run after him and beg him to drive him somewhere. He wanted to be alone with him again. Find all of the layers. Peel everything out of him.

"Pst!" Niall called from the room. Zayn turned in fright "You coming?"

"Ye-Yes,"

The room was completed now.

The board of administration for Innov Pharmaceuticals was composed of twenty members. Partners, Investors, Sponsors and Stakeholders, some who have been with the company since the beginning and others who have come along through strategic connections.

At the last meeting, Yaser sat at the head of the table, now it was time for Zayn to conduct his first, and perhaps, the most important of them all. As he sat down, the young CEO knew what he had to say. He knew what he had to sound like. He had watched his father conduct these meetings with stern action, secure of himself and with zero hints of anxiety - Yaser could've been trembling inside, but when facing the board he was confident.

Today's goal was simple: to get a unanimous vote on the actions Zayn and Niall had been working on to drive the company into a better financial situation. Measures that probably would seem controversial, but were necessary or the company would be no more by the end of the year and they would have to sell it for parts. He needed to remain calm, certain and in control of the situation. Fist on the table, hand on the neck and stern eye.

Give in, but don't give up Harry's voice echoed in his head.

He knew there were, at least, two people in that room that would lavish in his failure: Jeff Azoff, former Chief of Operations and Simon Cowell, Niall's predecessor as Chief Financial Officer - both of them employed under Yaser before Zayn came in.

Also, an important detail: the money leak began while they were all in power.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for being here at this board meeting,"

Zayn began with confidence, looking at all the members around the room. It was a pretty diverse group, with a slight overtake of men, from different backgrounds.

Not all came from the pharmaceuticals world or medicine, most of them were just straight business and that, Zayn hoped, worked in his favour when it came to securing the votes.

"Even though the last time we met, the conditions weren't the best and we were all sidetracked by the sudden change. Right now, we have bigger challenges ahead. I'm sure some of you have questions and have wondered about certain actions that were taken within the company-"

"Yes, I'm certainly curious as to why I cannot use my company card or why I no longer have access to all department's budgets," Simon interrupted.

Even though Simon no longer held the position of CFO, he was still an administrator and counsellor with full access to all departments. That was something Zayn was hoping to break in this new season: if the person was no longer working within the company, in some capacity, they had no business sitting in that room. No free lunches.

Simon was old school. He was the kind of man who had been doing the same job for years now and did not care to make any friends along the way, as long as he got his.

He was loud, occupied an entire room when he walked in, always flashing expensive watches and perfumes. Drove the latest model car. Had the biggest boat. He had worked hard to reach such a level and was collecting his flowers now in retirement. He had become a stakeholder early in the game, so he was a big vote to have - with the possibility of swinging the room his way. Zayn could not go against him.

Zayn took a deep breath in, controlling his emotions, but kept the same stern look.

"I know, and I'm sure you know as well, that for the past few years, our company has taken a few hits. We made some bad investments that did not go our way and we lost a significant amount of money. That's...the risk of taking business-"

"But, before we even got a chance to fix those mistakes we spotted another one. It has come to our attention that money has been leaking from the company. Small amounts. Different accounts. Through users of former employees that would be soon deleted, erasing all trace of their presence." The room erupted into small murmurs and chairs moved around. Zayn noticed that Simon was particularly quiet. "Luckily, we've conducted an independent investigation and have put in place actions to stop the money from going anywhere - some of these actions you've felt.'

'The company cards have been cancelled, in case they had been cloned in any way - and will remain until further notice. Access to budget, requests and approvals go through Niall first and then me for final signature. All users had their passwords changed, all computers cleaned, reinforced security measures and tools. We worked alongside the bank to make sure everything was up to order from their side. We've changed our entire structure to stop this leak. And we've been successful. In front of you there's the full report from the independent team we hired, step by step and the results."

The sound of pages flipping echoed around the board room.

"And you did all of this without consulting the board?" Simon asked once more.

"I needed to move swiftly or we would still be losing money at this hour."

"How much?" Trisha asked.

"85," He felt the room become suspended in time and space, with the members sitting in shock. "In five years. Plus the bad investments and our current recession. We are looking at...serious financial instability."

"This is preposterous." Simon chuckled, tossing the report aside. "You shouldn't have done any of this without the consultancy of the board. That's why we exist. Moves like this, shutting us out and removing things without our vote, defeat the purpose of a board of administration. You're not running the show alone-"

Something snapped within Zayn. He needed Simon's vote, but it didn't mean that he had to tolerate his shit.

"I wouldn't be talking too much if I were you, Mr Cowell," Zayn warned. "After all, Mr Horan, our esteemed CFO, went to you with his initial findings and you dismissed him entirely."

"I merely wanted to say that this went deeper than he thought. He had just got into the company, he wouldn't understand-"

"Mr Cowell, I believe we have to focus on the issue at hand and not on the fact that 85 million pounds leaked from our company while you were CFO, Jeff Azoff stood as COO and my father as CEO. All three of you had access to the company's finances and monthly reports. I'm sure all three of you were aware."

"You shouldn't talk about things you're not certain of," Jeff added.

Just like Simon, Jeff had been with the company since the beginning.

However, unlike Simon who was loud and made himself known, the former COO was quiet and lurked in the shadows. He liked to play behind the scenes. He enjoyed observing the board and thought carefully about his moves.

Jeff was a good COO, thinking five steps ahead and putting the company on the right course. He was no longer a Chief, he had stepped down soon after Yaser, giving the image of loyalty to just one man - but Zayn suspected it was possibly more than that. Zayn even dared to think that, perhaps, Jeff's voting power and ability to sway the members were more prevalent than Simon's.

"Anything you want to share?" Zayn inquired.

The former COO raised his palms "Please, you're the Chair. I'm just a member. Do continue."

Sensing Jeff was quietly challenging him to a position of power, Zayn made his intentions rather clear

"I believe that after this meeting, we should look at the positions the three of you hold within this board and see if it makes sense to keep you."

Simon leaned forward, while Jeff kept quiet just observing.

"Is that threat?"

"Not at all," Zayn let out. "Just an order of business for another meeting."

Simon opened his mouth to counter, but Jeff leaned over whispering something in his ear. The former CFO retreated, glaring at Zayn with intention.

Jeff, at his side, gave Zayn the silent nod for him to continue. Another battle for another day.

"As I was saying, we have stopped the leak - we are no longer losing money, but the fact is that we did lose money and we need to get it back. To do that, we have thought of a few measures to help us get there faster. We hope we can get all of you onboard."

Firstly, Zayn would present the order of the meeting, then a brief presentation of the proposals and then the discussion - this could take hours.

The final step would be the voting, which needed to be solid and would happen in one go. Zayn needed the majority. If he failed to get the votes, then the company would move as it was now, and no changes would be implemented, they would still need to work on other solutions and convey them for another meeting where the process would repeat all over again.

The CEO needed to get the entire room to stand behind him or, at least, the majority of them. It needed to happen that morning.

"We are already on the market looking for new suppliers to our most valued product - we know it's difficult because it's a...well, controversial raw material and we have to be careful on our approach of how we search for it, but we have a few suppliers in mind. We have attached their proposals for you to analyse as well. We have also cut ties with other partners, mainly in marketing, communications and sales. And all budgets for all departments are now under review and we hope to share them with the managers soon after the meeting."

"How much are the cuts on the teams?" Someone asked.

"We're looking at 30 to 45%," Niall responded with confidence. The member looked at him with a frown and the CFO added. "It's a lot, I know. But our financials are a fire sale - everything that has to go will go. We will cut now, and shrink everything down, so we can focus on growing it back further down the line. We cannot forget that this... challenge comes at a time when the entire world is going through a recession. We will need to make hard decisions."

"Yes," Zayn continued. "We are confident that the teams and managers will understand."

"And this is worldwide?"

"Yes," The room fell silent as the members read the report and the proposals. Zayn felt he could continue at ease. "We will keep access to the financials of the company and budget approval based on Niall and me, for now, until we're stabilised."

Zayn cleared his throat, feeling he was approaching a territory where the reactions would be obvious from the members of the board.

"Also, we've decided that..." He pondered for a moment going against everything he had preached so far. "We will probably have to close some of the offices abroad and let go a considerable amount of people here in the UK."

It was almost palpable how the room stood alert. How the members of the board understood now the depth of their troubles.

He hadn't even gotten to the part where it would hurt them the most.

"How many?" A member wondered.

"200 here. 150 abroad." He explained with a pain in his heart, imagining all the people he'd have to let go. "It's a tough decision and I've battled with it all this week to a point where it took me away from sleeping nights. I don't see a way around it. We're going to have to reduce costs all aboard and..."

"Are we going to outsource?"

"No," He answered. "I'm not outsourcing something we can do and that will bring costs to us. Everything is in-house. The biggest cuts will be in our factories and our laboratories. Also, marketing, sales and consultancy. We need all of them and all of these people are important, but we need to let some of them go."

"It's a lot of people," Trisha commented. "We need to be careful how we handle this and treat everyone with kindness and respect for their years here. From a senior to a junior, Zayn."

"Yes," He agreed. "We will propose settlements for the youngest ones and propose early retirement for those who have been with us the longest. We will not let them down."

Zayn looked around the members of the board, keeping steady. This last measure was not on the report - it came from an epiphany.

It came from Harry. Something he had said while they walked under the moonlight.

"These costs will also influence members of this board." Zayn declared. He sensed Niall tense up next to him and his mother as well. The room went quiet. "All company cards will remain cancelled and we will also retrieve all company cars..." The table began to seem uneasy as the members reacted to Zayn's news, but he proceeded. "Also, all members will receive a 25% reduction and no more bonuses."

"What?" Simon asked with a snap. "Are you mad?"

"It takes all of us," Zayn continued above the chatter. "I will take a cut too. We need it."

"Is this some kind of...socialism?"

"You cannot do this!"

"Is Yaser aware of this policy you're trying to implement?"

The entire table erupted in whisperings and side conversations, while Zayn allowed it to continue so they could get all their frustrations out.

"Gentlemen!" Niall's voice cut through the air, getting their attention. He tried to appease the best way he knew how, even though he had no idea what was happening. "Let's all calm down, for a moment-"

"Well, are you going to reduce the salaries of the operational teams that stay?" One woman asked.

Niall was going to answer, but Zayn intervened. "No,"

Again the table erupted with side chatter. Jeff, sat back watching the world burn and Simon was impossible to contain with revolt, speaking at Zayn from across the table. Trisha, seeing her son in trouble, was ready to intervene, but the young CEO stopped her - the last thing he needed was for his mother to come to his rescue in front of everyone.

"I'm not-" Zayn's voice cut through the air and the room stopped again, "I'm not reducing the salaries of the people who will be working to move us forward. We have people who will continue to work in our factories, in our laboratories, sales, marketing, and consultants - I cannot have those people become worried about their future here. I can't fire half the company, cut the salaries of those who stay a significant amount, but let the board wave around their company cards and fancy cars."

"How is that fair for us?" A man inquired. "We work here. We carry weight here. It's our connections that brought the company here - You can't cut the people who work to bring in the money."

"I'm pretty sure there's a difference between you coming in to work in your fantastic Mercedes and shaking hands being the only effort you make, while I have people who take the bus from out of the city to work.'

'It seems a pretty fair cut, seeing the constant increase the board has received over the years, despite the bad investments and the losing money. Meanwhile, the workers have seen their bonuses reduced and no salary increase." Zayn frowned at the man. "You're rich, Mr Lawson. You can afford 25%. I'm thinking about their families and many of my workers have children in school. I'm not making life harder for them. I'm pretty sure our company is not the only one from where you have your cut. I'm sure you'll survive ."

Niall leaned over Zayn, whispering caution "Ease up. You don't have a vote yet."

"This is ridiculous," Simon proceeded. "There are other areas in the company from where we can cut before it gets to us. Reduce the budget from the teams, how about that?"

"Even more? How are they going to be motivated to work?"

"Fuck motivation," Simon spat back. "The motivation they need is to keep their jobs. We need to be in the green, so the teams need to work. People need work - in this recession, they need us, more than we need them!'

'Also, reduce the time spent in the lab with research - some of those guys do nothing more but play with test tubes every day. Invest in massive production, somewhere abroad - China or Indonesia, cheap to keep and cheap labour. Then go all out in mass production, with a lower price. Skip all the bureaucratic shit we always do."

"And remove testing?" Niall asked. "How do we know if the drug works with the new supplier's product? We can't skip over that."

"Do you want to make money or do you want to take care of things?"

"Are you serious, Simon?"

"Gentleman," The room went silent for Trisha and all eyes were on her. The matriarch looked at her son. "What is the worst-case scenario if none of this works?"

The young CEO sat back in his chair, looking at his mother.

"Declare bankruptcy. Sell Innov for parts."

The rumours ran rampant on the board. The room was impossible to control, with all the side chatter happening and commotion.

Zayn felt he had lost the battle even before it began - all he heard was noise. His heart was drumming against his chair and his hands were sweaty. He hated having to depend on these old decrepit people who thought of none other but themselves. He hated to be in this chair. He hated to be in this situation.

Naill caught Zayn's distress and shared the best idea anyone could have that annoying morning.

"Let's take a break," Niall suggested.

Zayn walked into his office feeling a knot form in his stomach. He felt things were not going as he planned and he feared the board would go against what he was planning when it came to them. Leaning over his desk, with his hands stretched wide, he wanted to remain focused.

However, he was fairly aware that this group of elderly men who were ever so fond of their money, would not give it up so easily. They would rather let the company sink, and sell it for parts than can save it all.

He resented how the company ended up in his hands and the utterly shitty state it was in. How was he supposed to save this sinking ship?

The door opened and Niall came in. "Mate, what the fuck was that? Reduce the board's salary by 25%?"

"I had to, Niall."

"I understand, I just wish you'd told me about it, so I'd be emotionally prepared. That was a bold move to go against them like that - your father never did that. The board has been untouched for years."

"Yes, well I'm here to fuck shit up, I guess," Zayn responded sitting against his desk. "If we're cutting everywhere, we are cutting everywhere. I don't mind the cut. Shit, cut my pay to half - I don't care. What I don't want is to cut the money of the people who depend on our company. That I won't do."

"I understand," Niall agreed. "That is all fair. I'm only asking you to ease up on your approach."

"Ease up?"

"Yes, calling them out on their bigotry is not a good look," Niall assured his friend. "Remember who you're pulling up against. We need half of the people to agree with us on this and you can't just...call out how selfish they are."

"Why not? They would rather keep their company with the money, the cars and cards so they could live out this ridiculous lifestyle while my workers, people who put in the work and money, suffer? No. Ridiculous. I'm not giving up on the cuts on the board."

"We will discuss it. We will sit and discuss all proposals in detail, that's why we have the presentation."

"I hate this,"

"I know, Zed. But, if it helps, you did great."

The discussion part of the meeting lasted hours. They went around in circles, discussing numbers and margins to the point of exhaustion.

Zayn kept his position, backed by Niall and Trisha, alongside some members, who agreed with the ideas he had proposed. However, he was still far from having the majority or even getting the most votes.

"I think we are ready for the vote," Simon announced looking at Zayn.

Zayn knew that if they voted right there, he'd lose. The board had been adamant against the cuts on the members. They were all for letting people go, freezing bonuses, cutting salaries for the workers and - Simon's new idea - moving the entire operation to a cheaper country. All that Zayn had planned in his mind was coming down.

"I suggest a break," Jeff moved forward.

It was the first time he had spoken since the discussion started. He gave Zayn a look full of meaning and the CEO felt the businessman wanted to have words.

Jeff walked out of the room, while Zayn and Niall followed. The board members remained, as a few took the opportunity to smoke a cigarette or go to the bathroom.

Jeff was sitting at his desk with a calm look on his face. Niall closed the door behind them and the two waited for what the older man had to say.

"What, you two are attached at the hip or something?" Jeff joked.

"What do you want?"

"Relax, young Malik. I come in peace." Jeff rebutted with a smile. Seeing no reaction from the other two, his smile faded and he got his game face on. "You don't have the votes you need. If you go into that room and demand a decision, you will lose."

"How do you know that?"

"You and I were at the same meeting. Tell me, do you think you have enough?" Zayn knew the answer. The last thing he needed was to prove Jeff right, so he quieted down. "I can help you."

"How?"

"I can sway the table and get you the majority. Including Simon. If I raise my hand, that entire room will follow me."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I can."

"What do you want?"

Jeff shrugged.

"Nothing,"

"You're doing this out of the goodness of your heart."

Jeff smiled. "Sure,"

"We're not idiots here, Jeff. You wouldn't be talking to me unless you wanted something. You've barely acknowledged me."

"Not entirely true. I've offered my hand to help."

"No, you offered to know what Niall and I were doing."

The businessman smiled, in defeat and showed his hand.

"Fine. I'll give you the votes and the money you need to keep the company afloat for whatever time. In return, you meet with one of my proposed suppliers. He's not on the European list before you ask."

"Why is he not on the list?" Niall asked.

"He's working to be," Jeff explained. "You know about the quality standards and all of that. It takes a while for a new player to be approved in a list of such...delicate raw materials. You know how it is."

"What kind of supplier?" Zayn asked, feeling unsure.

"A good one. Reliable. Good connections and good material too." Jeff assured. "He's young and hungry, just like you. Just a meeting. Nothing more, nothing less. You sit with him, he gives you his speech and you hear him out."

"And you just...let us keep your money, even if Zayn says no to your man?" Niall inquired.

The businessman shrugged "I gain nothing from sinking this business, Niall. I'm creating an opportunity here. The upside is that with him on board, the money may never stop. Besides, you need the votes on that table and...not to be that person, but I'm the best you got."

Zayn paused for a moment thinking about Jeff's proposal. Everything about it was wrong. Felt wrong. Even though it seemed simple and it would benefit the company a great deal, the CEO's instinct told him the opposite. However, Zayn needed that table and he needed the votes the table carried.

Without thinking too much, he opened his mouth and let out an "Okay."

Jeff jumped off the table, fixing his light blue blazer. The former COO walked out of the office with a smile on his face and a light hitch on his step.

Zayn did not feel relieved.

He did not feel pride.

He felt like he had stepped into dogshit.

"Are you sure about what you just agreed to?" Niall asked at his side.

No. He wasn't.

Zayn was the furthest thing from sure of anything.

The vote happened with the majority of hands in the air. They would move on forward with the necessary measures to keep the company at bay for longer. Zayn shook hands with everyone, even Simon who seemed displeased with the result and seemed to have done it against his will. Jeff shook his hand too, giving him a whispered congratulations and Zayn felt filthy.

Patiently, he waited for the room to empty. It was around 04h00pm when he slumped down on his chair.

The next morning, they would begin the difficult process of letting people go in an honourable manner giving them payouts, settlements and early retirement for those who agree. The cut on members was reduced to 15% and there would be no more bonuses, cars or credit cards. Budget control was still under Niall's, overseen by Zayn. And the list for new suppliers, approved by the European Medical Agency, was approved - conversations would begin next week.

The entire process would be done discreetly, without ruffles, so it wouldn't reach the media and cause panic before Zayn could address the entire company. The full extent of the company's situation would not be divulged to anyone outside of that board room, it was agreed that they would not address the leak and attribute these actions to the global recession - it wasn't entirely a lie, but it wasn't completely truthful.

"You did good," Trisa responded, landing a kiss on his hair. "You did amazing."

"Thank you."

"I'll see you home?"

"Sure."

The woman walked out of the room saying goodbye to Niall as well. The CFO watched his friend carefully.

"Want to go for a drink?"

" God, yes." Zayn let out. "I feel dirty,"

"You did fine." the CFO smiled, grabbing his coat. "Come on. I'll buy you a couple of shots."

It was tradition to go for a drink after a difficult meeting. And Zayn needed it. Jeff's proposal kept ringing in his ear and he didn't know why it bothered him.

Mostly because 1) it had been the first time that Jeff had said more than two words to him 2) it demanded something in return. Businesses done when one party is desperate tend to go to the person with the upper hand.

Zayn didn't have the upper hand - Jeff did. It was a calculated move and the young CEO was...cautious of what could come around the corner. Jeff was smart, calculated and quiet. Anything coming out of him had meaning and intention. For him to come and talk to Zayn, was curious, to say the least.

The duo caught a taxi together, choosing a familiar five-star hotel downtown. It was a fancy place, with sober decor that screamed money. Entering the lobby, Niall waved at the receptionist who greeted them equally with a smile.

They headed left, straight to the bar overlooking the street. Sitting at their usual corner by the end of the bar, Niall asked for a pint, while Zayn chose a gin with tonic.

As the drinks flew down their throats, they began to loosen up and relax. Zayn was happy that such a big chapter had been closed, but he couldn't let it go. He kept going over aspects of the meeting like a member's commentary or how adamant they were in not accepting the cuts. The two friends talked amicably, with Zayn wanting to go over every aspect of the meeting over and over again...

"Mate, let it go!" Niall begged, grabbing his shoulders, and looking deep into those hazel eyes. "It's done. We'll work on whatever we need tomorrow. Now, we drink. Cheers."

The young CEO rolled his eyes and mumbled back, taking a sip. It was done with - they would think about tomorrow. Right now, he needs to drink.

"Tell me something, bud..." Niall inquired, as a new pint rolled in front of him. " Why were you on a walk with Harry, at night ?"

"Niall-"

"I just want to know. It's been killing me."

"It was just a walk. He was up. I was up. We strolled together around the mansion. Easy."

"What did you two talk about?"

"Life..." Zayn responded as a flashing image of Harry's green eyes and a tempting smile came to him. Suddenly, he was... itching with the thought of Harry. He fixed himself in his seat, centring on the moment. "It was a pleasant conversation."

"Sounds more than just conversation."

"Sounds like you're trying to paint something that isn't there. We walked, we talked and then we went to bed."

"Together?"

"No! He went to his room and I went to mine."

"Wait..." Niall paused. "He's staying at the house?"

"Yes. He prefers that over driving back and forth." Niall chuckled to himself, drinking his beer. "What?" The CFO did not answer, instead, he kept drinking, looking ahead. "Niall?"

After a moment, the CFO set the pint aside, wiping the foam out of his lips.

"Nothing, I just love the beginning of a romance. Leaves me all tingly."

"It was a stroll. He's an insomniac and walking helps - it helped me. I slept fine."

"Well..." Niall wiggled his eyebrows. "Is he interesting?" Zayn shook his head neglecting to answer, but unable to hide the smile forming on his lips. "Oh my Lord, what is that smile, Mr Malik?"

"Stop it-"

"Are you blushing-"

"Niall, my God-"

"Because I think you are..." Niall sang, poking his cheek. Zayn swatted his hand, making him giggle harder. "He's handsome, huh?"

Zayn sighed with a shrug. "He is. He's...very good-looking."

"Thank you!" Niall thanked, making Zayn giggle more. "Hey, maybe it's time."

"For what?"

"For you to give matters of the heart a chance."

The CEO scoffed, grabbing his drink. "I'm not involving myself with my driver. Again. Learned that lesson quickly. "

" Well, being a driver is just a detail and not all men are liars like Ben." Niall chimed in. "If he makes your stomach flutter then...it's a done deal..."

"It was just a stroll-"

"At night. Under the full moonlight." The friend squirmed. "It doesn't get more romantic than that, baby."

"I'm not looking for romance! Are you...Are you aware of the state our company is in, at the moment? The shit show that I had to deal with it at this meeting? I don't have time, space or energy for affairs..."

"What about romance?" Niall asked with a smirk. "Good old-fashioned romance, with a hint of passion. Perhaps that can turn into something more. You down for that?"

"Didn't you say the same thing about Ben?" Zayn accused. "You were all Ben this or Ben that. Wouldn't let him go. You said the same thing...you always do this!"

"And that got you where? Romance. Trust me, I can see it for you and Harry is interesting."

Another image of Harry came over Zayn. An image of Harry holding his wrist, counting the seconds for his pulse to calm down.

A sense of dizziness came over him and again that... itch, under his skin. Something poked at him, tapping Harry's name and face repeatedly in his mind.

"He might be, but I'm not." Zayn declared, feeling his throat become dry. "I'm too worried about everything."

Niall leaned over to his friend.

"Ben's been out of your life for almost a year. You're a changed man, you should give love a chance-"

"Love ?" Zayn asked with a frown. "How many of those have you had for you to be talking about love."

"Hey, I'm a romantic! I want you to be happy, mate. You've been moping, frowning and grumpy ever since you got the Chair. And, before that, you were drowning in heartbreak and disappointment. Allow yourself some happiness. Allow...I don't know... something or someone to warm your heart."

"Can't you warm my heart?"

"Oh, baby..." The CFO raised his left hand showing the wedding ring. "I'm happily married."

"Shit. Now, what?"

"Harry sounds amazing."

"Alright..." Zayn drank the rest of his gin, taking in the cold liquid and the ice touching his lip. He needed to cool down. Seeing the barman, he ordered another gin. "How's the wife?"

"Fine," Niall responded with a gushing smile. "Married life is... good. And Amelia just...God, I came home yesterday and she was just... waiting for me. In bed. Lace lingerie. Black and see-through. Fuck me..."

"Relax, now. Didn't know you two had it going like that. How long have you been together?"

"Six years..."

"And the fire is still there?"

"Have you looked at my wife?" Niall asked with a shocked face. "Walking into that woman, waiting for me and letting me do anything? Oh...I'm keeping her. We're getting old together, she'll die and I'll follow. I love her too much. See! This is what I want for you!"

"Sex on demand?"

"Yes!" Niall responded and Zayn cackled. "And companionship, someone to hold you tight, to do all kinds of things..."

"I can get a prostitute to do the same-"

"Zayn, don't be rude," Niall responded. "And I do hope you've stopped paying for that."

"It was just a couple of times, to release stress. I'm not a fan."

"Good," Niall added. "Nothing against it, it's just not...you. That's for the likes of Simon or Jeff...who need to pay for sex. You can get it...even though, you can also get cock...which is just...beyond."

"Do you have a problem with me liking both things?"

"Me? A problem? No! I just think it's unfair. Walking into a room knowing that my chances were diminished because I could go for any woman and any man. Gutted me."

Zayn chuckled at his friend's remark.

"First of all, you're married, so that's not a problem anymore. Also, men are my main preference. As for women...I like to treat them to a nice dinner, not necessarily bed them. " The CEO shrugged, shaking his head. "I paid because I was heartbroken over Ben. I just...needed a distraction. It was awful anyway."

"A lesson learned. Trust me. You have a better shot at a romance."

Zayn smirked, receiving the gin from the barman.

"Sure, mate." Zayn's eyes travelled around the bar, picking up an interesting woman sitting not far from them. "On the other hand, there is a downside to being married, Niall."

"What is that?"

Zayn added with a smirk, moving his head to the side.

"You miss all the good things in life staring at you."

Getting the cue, the CFO ran his fingers through his hair, fixed his blazer and looked over his shoulder.

At the end of the bar, a beautiful brunette stared back at him. She wore a red dress, matching lipstick and glistening jewellery. Her dress was glued to her body, showing her perfect breasts. She appeared to be nursing a martini. Her eyes met Niall's, showing a loving smile and a wink.

Niall turned to Zayn and hissed, loosening his tie.

"I'm married,"

"I know."

"I love my wife,"

"Yes,"

"But..." Niall let out a dramatic sigh, melting next to Zayn. "Good God, she's beautiful."

"I know. I saw."

"You sure she wasn't checking you out?"

"Nah, mate," Zayn responded, grabbing his pint. "She wants to feel the luck of the Irish."

"Oh, and I'd treat her so well, too." Niall winced, looking back at the woman who smiled again. She touched her hair, tossing it to the side, showing her collarbone and long neck. Niall hissed again. "Oh my God, I need to leave before I break my vows."

Zayn snorted into his gin. "You were always so lucky with girls."

"I am a gentleman," Niall responded, turning to his friend. "But I'm a dog too. Oh. I could be a dog with that one."

They snorted laughs, clinking their drinks and ordering another round.

Discreetly, Niall called the bartender over and then told him to get another round of whatever the woman was drinking.

They watched as the bartender delivered her a martini with stuffed olives. In return, the woman smiled a bit more. Niall rose his pint at her and she mimicked.

"I bet you she's a prostitute,"

"I'd pay," Niall retorted, squirming in his seat. "I would. Anything. Can you imagine? Oh."

"You just shamed me for paying!"

"Hypocrisy, my friend. That's the word you're looking for." Niall looked back at her, clearly eyeing her body. The woman pretended not to see Niall drooling over her. Zayn chuckled at his friend's dramatics, knowing fully well that married Niall was all talk and zero games. He loved Amelia too much. "Remind me again,"

"You're married."

"I know."

"And you love your wife."

"Yes," Niall turned to his friend, drank the rest of his pint and got up. "Yes. I'm leaving. Enough daydreaming. I'm going home to someone who truly wants me for me and not for the drinks I buy."

"You're not driving, are you?"

"No, I'm leaving the wheels at the office and catching a cab. You?"

"I'll give it another hour or two. Then, I'll go."

"Should I call Rob or Jonathan?"

"No, God no!" Zayn demanded. "I'll catch a cabby somewhere. Don't worry about me, lad. Go home."

They hugged and soon after, Zayn was left alone with his gin.

Now that he was alone, without Niall's antics to distract him, Zayn couldn't help but feel he had sold his soul to the devil. He didn't trust Jeff. He didn't trust Simon. The only person on that board he trusted was his mother. He felt he had walked right into a trap somehow. A sinking feeling he couldn't hide. So, instead, he drank.

He finished the gin and then asked for something stronger. A curious cocktail he had tried once: a negroni.

Ben had introduced him to the drink, but it wasn't convincing. Zayn was a simple guy: a beer, gin, vodka soda or coke and rum did him just fine. Anything aside from that was too much and unnecessary.

"So..." Ben asked after he had tried the cocktail. "You like it?"

Zayn winced a little, pushing the drink aside.

"Do you want me to like it?"

"Zayn, no...Come on..."

"I mean-"

"If you don't like it, just say it-"

"I hate it," Zayn confessed. Ben's mouth fell open. "I'm sorry. It's too much."

The CEO turned to the bartender and ordered a pint.

"You're wealthy, you should love the finest things in life."

"Oh, and a negroni is one of them?"

"Yes!" Ben chuckled. Zayn shook his head in disgust. "Feel it in your bones, baby."

"You seem much more interested in my money than in me. Are you exploiting me?"

Ben leaned forward, landing him a small peck on the lips.

"Never, baby."

Looking back it all seemed so tailored to perfection. How Zayn had cried when he found out the truth. And he did so in the most awful way.

They were discreet about their affair - after all, no one knew. The plan was to break it to the family in the best way possible and hope they'd be okay with it.

They would always meet at Ben's flat downtown. Zayn would spend a couple of nights there, where they would make love and enjoy their time together. 

Ben was everything Zayn looked for: funny, smart, layered, an amazing size to him and knowledgeable of pleasure, allowing Zayn to do everything he wanted to him.

However, as time went by, Zayn began picking up subtle things: how Ben's place became messier with his things lying around more and more. How the bills kept piling up by the door, despite him receiving a good salary as a driver.

So what, Ben didn't know how to manage money? He never asked Zayn to pay for anything or asked for money. And maybe he had become a little messier? Whenever Zayn mentioned, he'd clean right after.

It wasn't hopeless. And that perfection was still there with Zayn answering to it.

What changed?

They were cooking dinner once and Zayn was looking for something to spice up the food. He kept opening and closing drawers in the kitchen looking for pepper - he was sure he had bought it the last time. As he opened a drawer, he bumped into something unusual.

A blue card, that read UK Press Card, with the imprint VOID in red. He frowned.

"You found it, love?" Ben asked from the living room, as he searched for a movie for them to watch.

Zayn didn't reply. He turned the card around seeing the name 'Ben Winston - reporter - Daily Mail' The expiration date went all the way to 2030. So, it was an active licence. Feeling confused, Zayn wandered back to the living room of Ben's apartment.

"What's this?" Ben looked over his shoulder seeing the card in his hand. His face fell. "Are you a journalist?"

Immediately, Ben got up to his feet. They had been having this affair for close to three months, they had exchanged rushed 'I love you's, practically sharing space and now this.

"Baby..." Ben cooed, coming closer to him. Zayn looked at him stunned by this discovery. "I'm...I was planning to tell you..."

"What?" Zayn asked with confusion. "Tell me what?"

"I'm...I'm not a driver..." Ben confessed. Zayn's entire world shook. "I'm not a driver. I faked my application. Everything. My references...none of it was real. I'm...I'm a reporter and I'm working on a story..."

"A story?"

"About you." He confessed. Zayn felt his entire world spin. "Your family and Innov."

What ensued was an argument like Zayn had never had. At that moment, he saw all of Ben's flaws, all the cracks in his perfection, the illusion was done. None of it was real. It had been a lie, a construction of something that never existed. That was he discovered the depth of the lies. All of it lacked meaning.

The night ended with Zayn slamming the door, grabbing his keys and driving away. He regretted opening his heart so easily, allowing himself to love and feel the love with such openness.

He promised himself he couldn't - wouldn't - allow himself to be that open, that vulnerable and that willing again. After that, he dogged Ben every chance he could, burying himself in his work.

However, Ben was relentless. He wouldn't stop his pursuit and Zay saw his decline. It all culminated in the car accident when things got too much and they ended up both upside down on the motorway.

Zayn decided to sit at the bar. As he waited for the bartender to finish his drink, he sensed some movement at his side and hands running across his shoulder.

"Hello," Her voice was velvety smooth. Almost a whisper and she smelled amazing. The woman sat next to Zayn, crossing her long legs and giving him all her attention. If Zayn was any weaker he'd fall for it, right there. "Your friend left."

"Hi," Zayn blinked more than once to make sure he wasn't dreaming. "He did."

"And left you alone."

"I'm not alone now, am I?"

The woman stretched out her hand, with her long fingers. "Pearl,"

"Zayn," He thought her name was a dead giveaway of her profession. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude or to mislead you, but I'm not interested."

The woman looked at him with snake eyes, running up and down his body, wanting to take a bite.

"What if I don't charge?"

The young CEO snorted a laugh, not believing the proposal. The bartender left his drink in front of him, a beautiful red and orange liquid with three cubes of ice swimming inside.

"Tempting, but no."

"What is it? Don't like what you see?"

"I'm sorry, love..." Zayn grabbed his drink, smelling it. "You had better chances with my friend than with me."

"We can have a great time."

An image of Harry flashed across his eyes, as he walked ahead of him. And that itch again.

"No, thank you. Trust me."

Pearl understood what he was saying. So, just as smoothly, she grabbed her drink, sauntered down to the bar and sat down at her spot.

She wouldn't be alone for long, a young of your executives from the business district came in and she quickly caught their attention.

Zayn drank quietly, trying to drown the feeling of being pulled into some sort of scam he wasn't aware of. He didn't see the clock tick or noticed that his phone was vibrating in the pocket of his blazer.

He drank the negroni, with his mind travelling around. Then, dared to ask another one and said to himself it was the last one. It was dark outside, he should be heading home.

Zayn wondered if Harry would be out tonight. He hoped so.

He closed his eyes momentarily, massaging his temple and trying to collect himself. Ben was such a distant thought, could his heart be ready for someone else to take over? Harry's light chuckle came to him - he was handsome, layered and mysterious. Also, fit. So fit! Those shoulders, those arms, that hair...

Zayn drank a bit more, quieting that itch on him. He couldn't go down that path again of daring to fall for someone in the middle of a storm. He needed to hold fast, and keep focus...

No matter how dashing Harry was. It seemed like the drinking had opened the floodgates and now Harry was the only thing in his mind. How he walked, his scent, his softness...

Fucking hell, he thought drinking a bit more.

The drink was starting to taste sour in his mouth. He needed to go home.

Possibly, finding Harry waiting for him under his window for another stroll.

Zayn sensed movement behind him and thought the woman had returned. However, what he didn't expect was for someone else to sit next to him. That itch under his skin came to him in full force.

"Hi," Harry smiled at him, showing him dimples and pretty green eyes. He wasn't wearing that awful suit, instead his regular clothes and messed up hair. "Niall called me. Told me to come to get you."

"I didn't...I don't need a ride. I was going to get a cab."

"He told me that too, but he thought he would be best if I came here." Harry proceeded as charming as ever. Zayn felt himself melt over him. "How many have you had?"

The CEO looked at his glass, with a light frown.

"I think this...is my...second one."

"Unsure are we?"

"Yes,"

"How many before?"

"Three gins, maybe?"

"Maybe." Harry chuckled, showing all those dimples. "Do you usually drink so much?"

"I've earned these, Harry."

"I assume the battle went well."

"Could've been worse, but a victory is a victory."

"That's the spirit," Harry smiled. Zayn's heart jumped over a beat. "Are you ready to go or do you need time?"

"You want to take me home?"

"Yes," Harry answered with a hint that made Zayn twitch inside. "Also, that's my job."

"You drive for my mother." Zayn sighed, joining his eyebrows together. What was happening? "Jonathan should be here."

"Jonathan wasn't around. Niall thought I'd be better at it."

Dammit, Niall. Zayn cursed in his mind.

The CEO tried to drink his liquid, but it tasted awful going down. So, he set it aside and tried to get up.

"I'm ready to go. This shit is fucking nasty."

As he stood up, Zayn lost balance and Harry was quick to catch him. Their bodies were glued together, their faces close. The driver could smell the alcohol on Zayn's breath and the CEO caught Harry's perfume right on his nose.

Zayn hadn't noticed how strong and muscly Harry was under all those clothes - he didn't look like it. They lingered in that embrace for an extra second too long.

Then, Harry grabbed his arm and tossed it over his shoulders, with a firm grip around Zayn's waist. The CEO was capable of walking, but Harry was so warm and smelled so nice, he didn't mind.

"I guess I drank more than I remember,"

"I guess you did," Harry responded as they walked side by side, out of the bar. "Ready to go?"

"Yes," Zayn responded as they walked. "Thank you."

"No problem, Mr Malik."

There was something... something in the way Harry said that Mr Malik made Zayn sigh. It never bothered him before, but after that walk, after he had said it with a hint of flirt and sassiness, it was now coded with a new meaning.

That itch, transformed into a solid flame burning inside of Zayn.

When they got to the car, Harry opened the door and helped Zayn inside. The CEO slumped against the seat, fighting against his blazer. He was burning up.

"Need help?"

"Yes,"

With patience, Harry helped Zayn strip off his blazer. Zayn loved the idea of Harry taking off his clothes, so he allowed the driver to touch him in all the good places.

Once he was free, he rolled up his sleeves showing the tattoos on his forearm.

"That's a lot of ink," Harry commented, with surprise. "Had no idea you had those."

Zayn slumped against the backseat with a smile on his lips.

"I'm covered in them."

"Is that so?"

"Yes,"

"All over?"

"Most of my body, yes..." Zayn cleaned the back of his hand, showing traces of a hidden tattoo. "Some of the members are not fond of tattoos, so I have to hide them with makeup or cover-up. Dad said it would go down better...you know a tattoed CEO is not the best image."

"You shouldn't..." Harry added, standing outside the car. He grabbed Zayn's hand, wiping most of the makeup off, showing the lotus flower on his skin. Harry gazed upon it with attention. "This is beautiful."

"Thank you..." Zayn sighed, feeling his heartbeat in his ears. Harry held his hand as if it were a prized possession, gently stroking his fingers. Enough to make Zayn tremble in his foundations. "Maybe I'll let you see them sometime."

"All of them?"

What am I doing? What on Earth am I doing?

"Yes,"

"Ah..." Harry responded, looking up at him. He was stroking his knuckles with his thumb, sending sparks all over Zayn's skin. "What do I have to do?"

"Ask nicely."

The driver dropped his hand. A devilish grin appeared on his lips as if he was considering the proposal. Zayn mimicked his smirk, the indirect line not getting lost in translation between the two.

Harry grabbed the door, looking right into his eyes.

"I'll think about it."

Pearl tried not to die of boredom from the man she was trying to seduce. He was old, bald, with a protruding belly. He wasn't even interesting. Nor appeared to have money. The watch was a dead giveaway, the suit was ill-fitted and the tie had seen better days.

The man was nervous, with a trembling voice. He wasn't even sure of himself. Such a turn-off! The things she had to do for an extra. He probably only wanted a handjob or to grind against her - wouldn't have the courage to fuck her in the hotel room she had booked.

Boring. The day was slow and if it continued like this, she'd probably go home, put on some pyjamas and eat ice cream.

Her eyes moved over his shoulder seeing a familiar face coming over.

Now, that one was worth it.

He smelled money, looked hot and was so charming. Dressed impeccably in designer shoes, a long coat and a turtle neck. The fresh cut, with a glowing thin gold chain around his neck and the designer watch, was a dead giveaway that this one was full of himself. He walked into the bar, with his dark eyes searching the scene and when he saw her, he marched on over. Strong strides, straight back and a fuck you look.

Oh, she was wet already.

The younger man approached them and looked at the older gentleman. He took a few bills, putting them in the pocket of his old suit.

"Get fucked, mate," The older gentleman recognized Liam and trembled away, scurrying off his seat. Liam sat across from Pearl and ordered himself a drink. "Slow day, Pearl?"

"Awfully, so..." She melted, itching forward. The bartender placed an empty glass in front of Liam and poured a thin line of whiskey on it. "Thank you for coming."

"What happened? The staff gave you shit? They know this is your spot, we agreed."

"No, nothing of the sort..." Peal coed, fluttering her long eyelashes. "I've missed you."

Liam smirked. The businessman grabbed his glass, smelling the whiskey.

"I'm a busy man, Pearl. If you want cock, you'll have to settle for paying customers. That's our deal."

The businessman grabbed his glass, drank the whiskey and set it down again. Liam had a handful of girls who worked for him directly. They did what they needed to do, and he'd take a small percentage of whatever they made.

In return, he'd offer them protection, a place for them to work safely and access to all fine things, including some elite clientele. The girls were discreet, beautiful and skilled. No new beginners, he wanted women who knew what they had and how to work it. Some of them had been strippers at the bar even and, since Liam caught them working in the backrooms, he put them working for him.

He had a few clients who demanded specific women from his roster but he also had freelancers, like Pear. A woman who was in that life for a few years and was a solid worker. They had met at that same hotel bar and she had caught his attention right away. Pearl had tried to run her game on Liam, who had seen it from a mile away.

As always, Liam tested the girls first. He would often sleep with them, mostly out of boredom, but also because he needed to know if the merchandise was good. How they sounded, how they moved about, were they good actresses, kinks, fetiches, favourite positions...everything.

Liam would often give them a character to okay when getting clients: A more dominant woman. A more submissive girl. An innocent and inexperienced big-eyed female looking for company or a hungry sensual woman. Most importantly, since he tasted all of them, all of them ended up begging for him. He was good. A dominant man, that could leave the most independent woman on her knees. He had it. All he had to do was snap his fingers and they'd lick him dry.

"If you don't have anything for me, we'll see each other later-"

Liam got up from his seat, but Pearl was quick to grab his hand.

"He was here with the CFO." She responded softly. "Zayn Malik."

The businessman frowned. "Are you lying to me, baby?"

Sure, Liam was a good protector. Caring. Worshipping the girls whenever they needed, but there were two things they needed to know: 1) no shady movements with the money. Liam knew. He always knew when they were short and none of them wanted to be on the receiving end of his reaction. And he would only ask once. 2) No lies. Ever. Not to him. He'd know.

"Never, Liam," Pearl responded, itching forward. Liam sat down again, welcoming her information. "He was here. Sat over there."

"Did you offer?"

"I did," Pearl explained. "He denied me."

Liam arched an eyebrow in curiosity. "Did he clock you?"

"I think so. The CFO sent me over a drink, he seemed much more interested in me but then left. I went to him when he was alone, but he said I had no chance; that I should've tried his friend."

Liam sat back in his seat, with his mind twirling. So, Zayn was not a fan of females...Oh, this was perfect.

"He denied you? You're fucking fit, babe."

"I know..." Pearl responded, tossing her hair back and adjusting the straps on her dress, making her breasts jiggle. "You like them?"

Liam looked at the breasts, with his mouth watering already.

"They suit you perfectly, baby. Good investment. How long was this? Where is he?"

"Not long. About...half an hour ago, sometimes. He left."

"Alone?"

"No," Pearl whispered. "With Harry."

Liam froze looking at her. "Harry picked him up?"

"Yes, and they seemed rather close. Falling into one another. All smiles. There's something there."

Liam let out a light chuckle. Knowing that Zayn denied a woman like Pearl was good, but knowing that Zayn was practically melting over Harry was the cherry on top of the cake.

Oh. He could see it now. Everything coming up, just as he suspected it would. The businessman knew he was sure - it wouldn't take long for Harry to charm the CEO. It was inevitable. Zayn was his type and Harry couldn't help himself.

It was a master move. He knew his friend too well.

Leaning forward cupping Pearl's face, Liam landed a kiss on her lips.

"Good girl, Pearl."

"Thank you," She smiled, rubbing her hand on his leg. "I'm having a boring night. Want to go upstairs?"

"Are you going to charge your boss?"

"Oh, honey...You can get it for free, you know that."

The man stood up, holding out his hand. Pearl took it, like a lady and waltzed in front of him. Liam watched her move with attention. He followed her closely, while he grabbed his phone and dialled for Louis.

"Hey, it's me. Pearl caught Zayn and Harry leaving the hotel together." Liam explained as he got into the elevator with Pearl at his side. "He's Harry's type and according to her...they were close."

On the other side, Louis chuckled. "Think they're together?"

"If not now, soon perhaps."

"I guess Ben was right."

"I guess so."

"Great call, Payno."

Liam wrapped his arm around Pearl, pulling her closer.

"I know. I'm about to get a good prize."

Chapter Text

Before

Being a journalist is not easy. It's a precarious job, that unless you have a good pitch or a source every day, won't take you extremely far. It demands of you, your connections, and your keen witty spirit. A good eye, an ever-better ear and perfect timing. It's not for everyone. And even those who work at a tabloid face these types of challenges when it comes to creating a story. How to be ethically correct, impartial and remain truthful to the source material.

Ben Winston had been a journalist for many years. He wasn't the best. But he wasn't the worst. He had a few good articles that earned, but nothing top-tier. He had been struggling for years to get something to make sense and to find a piece that could catapult him into something. In general, he was mediocre and flew under the radar. This...neutrality and constant pace left him uneasy. Confused. Frustrated. He craved something to push him into more, but not finding it. Life was boring, decrepit, and rotten.

Nothing brought him joy or excitement. He was a mediocre man, with a mediocre job in a mediocre world.

So, one night, he wandered in London without aim or destination. It had been a shitty day at work, with his editor busting his balls, no leads on any news and nothing significant happening. His articles had been sent back multiple times a day with grammatical errors, misquotes and terrible phrasing. Nothing excited him.

As he walked down the street, feeling like a shadow of a man who had once dreamt of winning a Pulitzer and covering the news that could change the world, Ben walked right in front of The Velvet. He didn't even look at it twice. He saw the lights, the name, the bodyguards out in front and kept moving.

However, a car stopped by him with loud music and made him look over his shoulder. A group of men, approximately his age or younger, got out looking nice and sexy. They were loud, laughing, confident and well-dressed. Six of them, full of life. One by one they entered The Velvet. The last one of the young men - way younger than Ben, who was now halfway down his 30s - looked at him and gave him a quick wink. A cheeky one.

The journalist trembled at such an attitude. Suddenly, he looked at The Velvet. He heard the laughter, the music, the female voices, and the male cheers. The club didn't have a line - it was a weekday, so he could get up easily wearing just a shirt, jeans, and a worn-out leather coat. The call was real.

It was intense.

The journalist retraced his steps, walked to the front of the club, and stared at the name.

"Oi!" The bouncer asked. "You comin' in or wha'?"

And at that moment, Ben said fuck it. And walked right in. Perhaps, knowing what he knew now, he would've. But then again, isn't life made of these types of moments that seem innocent at first, but end up becoming lessons learned?

Immediately, Ben was singled out for being a lost puppy without a destination. He fell into the arms of some of the women who saw a man with a limitless credit card and no sense of direction; Ben bought drinks and paid for lap dances. However, one person caught his eye as soon as he walked. A man with a handsome face, dark hair and pretty eyes lurking in the corner dressed in black. They looked at one another once and it was enough to throw the young journalist off his balance. As He progressed, the man kept coming closer and closer, seeing as Ben was all over the club with different girls at times. An easy prey.

"Hey." The man commented and Ben stopped smiling. "Having fun, huh?"

"Yeah," Ben answered, clearing his throat. "Very."

"What are we celebrating, then?"

"Nothing." Ben sighed feeling the drinks course through his veins. Was this conversation even real? "Just...life."

"My kind of man." The man responded. He took out a cigarette, placed it between his lips and inhaled. Ben almost came in his pants immediately, watching the common act transform into the sexiest thing. The man looked at him, eyeing up and down. "I'm Xander. I work here."

"I'm Ben." He answered. "I don't-"

"I know." Xander blew the smoke in the air and Ben lost his train of thought. Xander got pretty close to his lips and whispered. "Bathroom."

Then, walked off. Ben was confused. Was that a statement? Or was it...an invitation? He watched Xander make his way through the crowd with a confident strut - people walked out of his way. Drowning his fourth whiskey of the night, Ben huffed and puffed, then followed the mysterious man. Not even two minutes later.

The journalist found him in the bathroom. The man wore a dark tank top, a silver chain around his neck, a cigarette in between his lips and something in his hand.

"Close it and lock it."

Being the ever-good boy, Ben did just that. Now, he wasn't a fan of labels, but Ben did enjoy men. He had always been lowkey with his preferences and relationships, but meeting a stranger in a bathroom for a quick shag was new to him. So, despite the four whiskeys, the journalist was nervous.

Xander turned to the sink and Ben noticed him open a small tinfoil square. The journalist came closer, seeing the man grab a car and begin to cut the powder into thin lines. As the man cut, repeatedly, Ben looked at the man. He was so handsome, young, and sexy.

"Stop staring. It's rude."

"So-Sorry." Ben stammered averting his eyes. "What is that?"

"Sugar."

Xander handed it over to Ben who, with trembling hands, grabbed it and took it to his lips. It didn't taste like a normal cigarette - it was a bit more bitter.

After cutting one last time, the tinfoil square has four perfect lines. Xander went to his pocket, took a 50£ bill, rolled it tight and bent over the small tinfoil square. With the bill forming a tube, Xander inhaled one of the lines. Took a deep breath and then inhaled a second one. Then, he stood up, wiping his nose lightly and snorting.

Meanwhile, Ben was feeling...off. Lighter than air. Something was wrong. And it was hitting him hard. The cigarette was...intense and all he did was give two pouffes of it. He blinked repeatedly, then felt someone shake him. His eyes met Xander.

"You're up."

Ben looked at the tinfoil seeing the two white lines.

"I...I don't...I don't do drugs."

Xander grabbed the cigarette and smiled. "Clearly not."

"I'm...I think I'm going to-"

"This..."  Xander showed him the cigarette. "It's hash. Almost pure; little nicotine for maximum effect. You need something to level it up and get you on a good vibe. If you don't, you'll pass out and it won't be as fun for me. Hit it. Stay cool. And then we can do it."

"Get to what?"

"To what you were looking for when you crossed those doors." Xander smiled. "What it means to be alive."

With trembling hands, Ben grabbed the rolled 50£. With his face close to the tinfoil, he snorted the first line which shot a fire up his nose and made him cough. Then, he did the same with the second one. His face felt ablaze, his nose itched, and his throat was dry. Looking at himself in the mirror he couldn't recognize his reflection. It was someone else. His heart beating crazy beats per second, blood rushing in his veins, brain firing a thousand thoughts per millisecond. Everything was bright, garish, intense, and somehow low to the ground. Like a fisheye lensed, but a wide shot at the same time. A weird feeling.

He felt...for a lack of a better word, fucking alive.

When Xander's lips touched his, he didn't flinch.

Nor when he was pushed against the wall, trousers dropped and spread open.

It felt...nice. It was the best shag, the best high he'd ever had. He never wanted to let that feeling go. Xander choked him, slapped him, pulled, and pushed. Ben was tossed and turned.

Leaking between his legs, dripping off his chin, sweat on his forehead. It could've been ten minutes or an hour. But, by the end of it, once Xander was done, Ben was left in the bathroom by himself, still out of it and completely high. A smile on his face, his heart bursting with emotion and did not want the feeling to ever leave him.

It wasn't about rough sex. No. It had been great, but it wasn't that. It was the emotion of feeling completely alive.

He was still high when the bouncers tossed him out of the club and higher still on his way home in a taxi. He was high the following day and didn't go to work. One thing he knew, was that he wanted that feeling again. That high. That adrenaline. That disconnection of the world.

Later that night, he was at The Velvet again.

The following night as well.

Every day up until the weekend he was there.

That was when Ben first tried the best heroin in London straight out of the source, brought to him by Xander. It was good. Smooth. Pure. It gave him the high of his life. He rolled, crawled, jumped, and wasted all of his money on that club.

He would come back again.

A tenth time.

Until he became a regular.

Everyone knew Ben. Liam Payne knew Ben. Louis Tomlinson knew him too. Xander fucked him sometimes. The girls knew him by name.

And as he dove further into his found addiction to being 'alive,' other parts of his life began falling apart. However, Ben did not see it. He didn't have an issue. He didn't see himself as an addict. He had a job, a flat in London, a good car and good health. He was nothing of the sort.

One day, because fate worked curiously and he happened to be sober enough, Ben drove past the Malik Foundation. He had never met them before. Never seen any of them. But the name rang inside of his mind - it was curious. Malik.

So, once he got to the newsroom a quick Google search presented a few basic pages, but nothing too deep.

He shrugged it off. Probably some random billionaire family. Not good enough.

But then, his editor called him demanding a story, or some decent work from the journalist, or he'd be fired. It had been a clear month of decline if he wasn't going to do his job - he might as well leave. Pinned against a wall, by his editor who demanded work, he pitched the idea.

"They are this big family with a lot of investments and are leaders in the pharmaceutical business, but no one knows a thing about them."

"Ben..." The editor called, blowing smoke out of his nose. "I do not see the appeal. Why would anyone care about a rich family? We have people in need at the moment. The housing market is insane, people getting fired, and inflation is through the roof! The last thing our readers want to know is how the Malik eat their caviar every night. Sounds disingenuous."

"They have a Foundation. They give back to society."

"Have you ever received anything from them?" The editor asked and before Ben could answer, he proceeded. "Precisely! Not good enough."

"Why would we write about people's suffering? We know people are struggling. Our readers need an escape!"

"No. Our readers want their stories to be told."

"For fucks sake-"

"Ben, it's a fucking rich family who got even richer during the pandemic. How does any of this serve the people?"

"It's a good lead!" He insisted. "Shows that this rich family gives back to society. Get to know them. Why are they hiding so much?"

"The rich are entitled to swim in prosecco and roll around in silk sheets within the privacy of their homes. This pitch is not good enough. It's not what we do. That's tabloid material."

The journalist sat back in his chair, annoyed by the blockage his editor had put on him. An idea popped into his craving-to-be-high mind.

"What if I infiltrate the family?"

"Ben-"

"Hear me out!" He begged. "No one knows a thing about them. They are super secretive! What if I act like...I don't know...a housekeeper or a driver or a gardener to get close to the family. Then, I'll write a tell-all?"

"A tell-all about what?"

"Who they are!" Ben insisted. "We are these secret millionaires? How can we never see them around? Where did they get their money from?"

It was a Hail Mary. It was so feeble. But Ben needed a job. Or he wouldn't be able to support his newfound addiction. He was grasping at straws.

"My friend..." The editor commented, leaning forward. "Are you okay? You seem...odd. "

"What?"

"You're all over the place, Ben. I've been noticing that you've been sinking, people are starting to see too. Is everything okay? I cannot help you if you don't tell me what is wrong..."

In the beginning, Ben was a functional addict. He knew the dosage he needed, how many times and where to inject - never the arms. Between his toes or his fingers, it would work simply fine. He was always well groomed, well dressed, well behaved and a good worker. He participated in all of the editor's meetings and was there every day. He was still doing Ben and kept his decadent moments to specific hours. To anyone looking from the outside, Ben was just another journalist. Mediocre. Flying under the radar.

But that was in the beginning. What once started as a functioning taste, quickly became an addiction too impossible to control. Ben loved the feeling of that good stuff running in his veins. Loved to float in the air. Forget his troubles. Loved to drink while under it, fuck while high in it and bask in it all day. He'd go to work, sure, however, he'd just sit down in front of the computer, typing words pretending to write. At the editor's meetings he'd spend most of his time daydreaming or counting the hours to get high again - never picking up any of the work. If he did work, he'd type an article here or there, kick it to the editor and then leave.

"I'm fine," He responded to the editor. "Give me a week to draft it for you."

"You have one day," The editor responded. "Then, I'll sack you."

"What?"

"Have you seen the shit you've written, Ben?" The editor asked. "Yesterday you sent me a paragraph. Just the one. With little to no sense - you wrote about nothing. It was rambling! You've been with us for some time now, and you have done some rather good things, but now...it's getting out of control. Get me something with legs or I'll have to sack ya."

"Wait, wait..." He begged. "I promise you; this is good. This is one of the biggest families in London and we know nothing about them. We know more about the Royals than the Maliks and that is insane to me! There's something there. I promise you! Give me this and I'll get you something. I promise!"

****

Ben was perfectly aware that he couldn't fund his addiction without money. He needed to work. That's why he was so invested in this pitch of a story about the Malik's - not because he cared, he knew nothing about them. He couldn't afford to be let go.

So, after much convincing and grovelling, he came up with a story and got the job at the Malik's - that alone took some sobering up. He got to know the family, their routines, and who they were and got involved with Zayn. As a journalist, he heard a lot of things and made a lot of connections and a lot of privileged information.

As an addict, he didn't care.

Every week, his editor would ask for a point of the situation and wonder how the investigation was going; Ben would push it with his stomach. Avoid him as much as possible. He'd use common phrases like "I'm working on it." "I'm talking with a source" "I'll have a first draft soon. "or "I'm just compiling my notes."

None of that ever happened. None of that was ever real.

Sure, he cared about Zayn. He was handsome. Good fuck. Pretty boy and everything. He became a part of the family quickly. The mother adored him, and he began getting extremely close to one of the sisters, Doniya - they would talk a lot and many times she confessed she felt like the odd woman out.

"Why?"

The woman shrugged, as they sat side by side, in the back of the house.

"My dad never wanted me and my sisters to have a voice inside of the company. Zayn was always his favourite. We have...you know, a vagina." She added bitterly. "My sisters are fine with it, they found solace in working with my mother at the Foundation - which works for them, I guess. Helping others is...rewarding."

Ben snorted a chuckle and Doniya nudged him on the side.

"But I'm more than that, you know? I was born to lead. I did the same course in Uni as Zayn. I had better grades even - whenever the topic was brought up of who would be the successor dad, I was never considered, and Zayn always chucked it aside. He never had the hunger for the Chair.'

' Zayn would prefer to stick to his small little team working on how to put weed in every medication and doodle his way into creating something of worth, than confronting a problem head-on. I know, if it ever comes to my dad leaving the company, everyone will run to Zayn to take over. Predictable. Bloody sad. And also...the biggest mistake they could've ever made."

"That's awful," He replied. Doniya blew the smoke of a spliff into the air and then handed it over to Ben. It was the middle of the afternoon, on a Sunday and he had the day off. "Your voice deserves to be heard."

"Yeah, I know..." Doniya answered. "Honestly, if I have no part within the company, then it could implode for all I care."

"That's your legacy," Ben responded, handing back the spiff. "You'd be willing to torch down your own company?"

"Not my company," The woman shrugged, taking the weed to her lips. "If I'm not part of it, then it's not mine."

"Ruthless you are."

"No," Doniya answered, focusing on the horizon. "I'm just a woman trying to make a stand in a world dominated by men. And if I have to bury my legacy to do it, then I'll do it."

"You're scaring me, Doni," Ben commented, taking the spliff away from her. "You sound like an evil genius."

Doniya turned to him with a smirk on her lips.

"I've seen you at The Velvet." Doniya pointed out and Ben nearly coughed his lung out. "I also know you're shagging my brother-"

"Doni-"

"A bit obvious if you ask me." She shrugged. "You two go everywhere together and I was pretty sure, I heard you in his bedroom the last time I was here."

"That's not-"

"You seem to think I care. I don't." Doni shrugged. "I want you to drive me to The Velvet."

"What? Why?"

"I like it there."

"That's...That's a dangerous place, Doniya," Ben added. "There are rough people there-"

"Yeah, all the drug trafficking and prostitution don't make it a place suitable for children," Doniya responded. "I like it there. They know who I am, and I am treated with respect there."

"How long have you been going there?"

"A while..." She looked at him and winked. "Probably as long as you have, Mr Itchy Nose."

Ben recoiled, looking away from the woman.

"It's not-"

"I do not care, Ben," Doniya repeated. "Drive me there. There's someone I'd like to see."

"Who?"

"I believe his name is Louis..."

"The boss?"

"Yeah..." Doniya responded with a smirk. "The very same. Did you know that he and Jeff are partners?"

"Partners?" Ben frowned. "Wait...Jeff...the CTO? At Innov? He's partnered with Louis?"

"Oh, it's a very hush thing," Doniya added. "Secretive. Something about licensing to build stuff... Louis helped. Jeff came with the money. Besties."

"Huh..." Ben commented. "Interesting."

****

The money as a driver wasn't bad, which allowed Ben to have two sources of income to afford his addiction.

Oh, he was over the moon.

He was basking in it. Drowning in it. Taking it by the hour. No one noticed. No one was looking for it either.

Slowly, he stopped answering his editor and after a few weeks without any content, he was dropped from the newspaper. All accesses denied. His press card was void. Meanwhile, he was going hard with Zayn, and they were already exchanging 'I love yous' - He had worked hard to try and seduce him. Zayn was a pretty boy, so if he could get that it would be amazing as well.

When Zayn found out that he was a journalist and had been working on a story about the family, Ben was immediately fired, and the young man broke it off with him.

No more money. Meant no more drugs. Quickly, his descent into chaos began. Because if you take the 'functional' aspect out of the addict, it's nothing more than just that. So, it was safe to say that, just as fast as he had gone up, Ben had quickly fallen to the ground.

The water hit Ben's body, shaking him awake from his sofa. The poor journalist woke up in fright, trembling all over and completely disoriented. He sat up, already in a protective position, with hands curled up against his chest and eyes wide.

"Afternoon, Ben!"

The first thing the poor journalist saw was the dashing man sitting on his coffee table. Behind him, were two others - one who had a gun tucked carefully in his belt and the other whose eyes he had seen up close a few times. Ben tried hard not to focus on that detail, instead his eyes met the man on his coffee table.

He knew that if Liam Payne was sitting in his living room, good things weren't coming out of this conversation.

"Slept well?"

"I-I...I think..." Ben's eyes darted towards all three men in his living room. "How...How did you get in?"

Liam went into his pocket and retrieved a set of keys.

"You were too high to pick them up last time, bud."

Ben had lost his keys the last time we were at the club. It was the downside of being completely high on their product and lost in decadence. Luckily, he had left his bedroom window open, and he managed to climb using the water pipe on the side of the building. Liam tossed the keys on the table next to him, then leaned forward.

"So? How are we, Ben?"

"Go-Good."

"Sorry for the rough awakening, but I figured if we tried to schedule something you'd run away. Wouldn't be the first time."

"I-I... I know...Liam, I know I am...I haven't been paying-"

"Bloody right you haven't, love. That's why I'm here." Liam showed him a cold smile. "Where's my money, Ben?"

Ben's eyes darted all over the room, as his mind shot at possibilities left and right. Then, he uncurled himself wiping the droplets of water off his face and sat facing Liam.

"I...I'm moving things around. I'll get you your money-"

"I honestly don't understand how a journalist like you can be so broke as you are," Liam commented, looking around at the flat. It was a decent apartment, with one bedroom, one living room, one bathroom, and one kitchen. Spacious. Right in the heart of London. "How did you afford all of this?"

"I...Things have been hard...I got sacked from the newspaper and...from this second job I had..."

"Doesn't help being a fucking addict, now does it?"

"I'm a functioning addict," Ben replied in his defence. "I'm not scratching myself or curling up in a corner spaced out of my mind. I used it with purpose."

"I'm sure you do." Liam agreed. "What did I tell you when I gave you the stash?"

Ben's stomach sank. Of course, he had thought selling for himself would be a clever idea. And he did get Liam to give him a brick under the promise of selling it all and sharing the profit with the gangster.

But, of course, Ben didn't sell any of it. Instead, he got high on it.

"That...That I had-"

"That you either sell it and give me the money or give me back the stash and pay me for my troubles. So far...I've got nothing. I'm missing a good amount because you wanted to venture into this dangerous world. It was your choice, Bernard. You came to me. You found me. Where is it?"

"I...I don't..."

"Nick," Liam called, and the young man took a step forward. "See if Ben has it hidden anywhere around here."

Nick roamed around the small apartment. Seconds later, the sound of items being broken echoed around the house.

"I... I did not sell it..."

"Well, did you sniff it?" Liam wondered. "Did you consume the product you were to sell like fucking amateur, Ben?"

"Liam, I...I promise you; I will get you your money-"

"No wonder I couldn't find you. You were out here getting high out of your mind on my dime." Nick moved around in the bedroom, breaking more stuff. The sound of glass shattering and wood breaking, was so loud making Ben tremble even more. "Now, Ben, you came to me. You said you had clients; you were looking for a side job. I gave you a small stash for you to move. It's been weeks. No stash. No money. And now...here we are."

"Please...I'm...I'll pay you back. I promise."

Liam turned, finding a pile of unpaid bills and dropped them on the sofa. Some of them were last notices.

"Curious to see how you're going to do that when you can't even pay your light bill."

"Liam, I promise-"

Nick appeared in the living room with the one lasting brick in hand - it was opened and not as full as it was in the beginning. He moved over to Liam, handing it to him. The sergeant analysed the brick and then stared at Ben. Without saying a word, Liam got up from his seat and headed over to the window with the brick in hand.

"You know, it was never just me and Tommo. It was always the three of us. Three heads. The last youth was good, you know. He'd come in, reason with you, try to find a solution, understand your side...Real patient, you know? Harry. Harry was a good one. He could sell water to fish, that one. A talent."

The man turned around, sitting against the windowsill, getting all of Ben's attention. Behind the journalist, Xander moved quietly.

"Harry's been in jail for a while now..." He commented. "Sadly, due to strategic decisions. For that reason, there's no buffer here. Meaning, that while before Harry stood between the possibility of me breaking your legs and doing it..."

Xander latched his hands on Ben, slamming his head against the coffee table. The journalist fell to the side, moaning in pain with the carpet slowly sipping up his blood.

"Now, we'll just jump straight to it." Both Xander and Nick grabbed Ben and were ready to unleash on him. "Wait! Wait!" The soldiers stopped with their fists raised, hovering over Ben. The journalist's eyes flew to Liam, who patiently inspected the brick in his hand. "The other day, I saw you come in with a lovely lady. One Doniya Malik. You know her?"

"She's..." Ben swallowed some of the blood coming in from his nose. "She's the oldest of the family I used to work for..."

"The Maliks." Liam set the brick aside. "Sit him up."

Xander and Nick grabbed the young journalist with force, just as blood gushed violently from his nose, making him kneel in front of Liam.

"What can you tell me about the Maliks?"

"They are rich - almost billionaires. They...They own Innov Pharmaceuticals-"

"If I wanted Wikipedia information, I'd go to fucking Wikipedia, Ben," Liam growled. "You worked for the family. What can you tell me about the Maliks?"

The journalist saw blood on his hands and clothes. However, quickly he gathered himself, kneeling in front of Liam.

"They are a close-knit family. Protective of one another," Ben added with a trembling voice. "Mum runs the show. Dad is missing in action. Three daughters. One son. The oldest one-"

"Doniya."

"Ye-Yes. She's...desperate to be the chair of the company. She wants it bad and it's a constant argument within the family. The other two girls, Safaa and Waliya, work with the mother at the Foundation-"

"And the son?"

"Zayn. The second oldest. He's the one who will inherit everything." Liam's eyes darted from Nick to Xander, as if speaking in some coded language. Seeing he was getting somewhere, the journalist proceeded. "I have more on the family. I am close with Doniya - she used to confide in me all the time. I have access. I can give you all the information you want."

Liam raised an eyebrow, looking at the man.

"Will you now?"

"Yes," Ben added with big eyes full of hope. "Anything."

"You're a little weasel, ain't ya?" The gangster responded with a smile. "How do I know you're not tricking me, you little weasel-?"

"I...I was...in a relationship with the son. With Zayn." Ben added. Immediately, Liam's eyes went bigger. "I'm...I was but we...broke up...He found out I was a journalist-"

"So, the son is...?" Liam commented, with clear curiosity. Ben confirmed with a soft nod. "Wow...How did you manage that?"

"I'm charming when I'm sober."

"Look at that," Liam answered. "Did he find out you're a bloody addict too?"

"I don't think so..."

Liam scoffed with a sneer coming to his lips.

"I bet you were feeling yourself, getting down on your knees for the 1% like one of my girls."

"It wasn't like that-"

"I'm sure it was love." Liam mocked. "So, he likes men."

"Yes,"

"Like you?"

"What-?"

"His type. Would Xander tickle his fanny?"

Ben looked at Xander, who stood above him. Immediately, the journalist looked away.

"No...Xander is too...brute."

"Brute?" The soldier shoved him, and Ben nearly fell off the sofa. "Didn't hear you complaining when I was choking you with my cock-"

"Xander, for fucks sake!" Liam shouted demanding an order. The soldier shut up, returning to his position of standing guard, tightening his jaw. Liam looked at Ben and wondered. "How about, dark hair, tall, light eyes?"

Ben shrugged. "I guess. He likes...mystery. He's a curious one. So, anything that can...intrigue him, it's a long way to go. Charming as well. Polite. Handsome."

"Hm..." Liam scratched his beard. "We heard, from a reliable source...that there might be an opportunity for us within Innov."

"An opportunity?" Ben frowned. "How?"

"That's for me to know and for you to not ask about shit that does not concern you." Liam continued. "I need you to tell me everything about the family, but most importantly about the son."

Ben frowned for a moment. Sure, he wasn't the best journalist, but his sixth sense was still there.

And he wasn't an idiot either.

"What do I get in return?"

"Oh, you want something?"

"Yes, I want-"

Immediately Xander's first came into play, connecting with Ben's face.

The poor journalist collapsed to the side spitting thick drops of blood onto his carpet. Liam sighed dramatically, as Xander grabbed Ben by the hair and sat him up again.

"Listen, I'm not a fan of violence. I'm not Xander - he doesn't give two fucks and if I don't say a word he'll kill you right in your living room. So, you better give me something-"

"Why would I tell you..." Ben answered, spitting blood everywhere, with tears rolling down his face due to the pain. "You seem to know everything already. You just want me to confirm what you know."

"Think of it like...comparing notes. You tell me what you know, and I see if it matches what I know. So far, you've surprised me by telling me you were fucking the one son and he likes men like you. You're doing good. Keep at it."

Ben sat back on his ankles, cleaning the blood pouring out of his lip. The journalist took a few deep breaths looking around the living room and then at Liam.

"I'll tell you everything you want to know-"

"Good lad."

"Under one condition."

"You're negotiating?"

"Yes." Ben insisted. "And you can give me that at least. I've been good."

Liam grabbed the brick. "You snorted half of my coke."

"And I intend to pay back." Ben insisted. "With information."

"Wow..." Liam looked at Xander, then at Nick, with raised eyebrows. "He's brave."

Ben continued:

"I give you everything you want about the family. Everything. You leave me alone. Forever. My debt is sold. I'm done. I don't want this anymore."

"Oh, so...you're done?"

"Yes," Ben added. "Clearly what I know is it's of your interest and you're invested in it. I can give that to you, but I want something in return."

"Us leaving you alone and your debt is forgotten?"

"Yes." Ben insisted. "I'm sure this opportunity will give you more than I ever could. What I owe is nothing but a drop in the ocean."

Liam stood up from his place, taking casual steps towards Ben. The journalist's blood was still dripping from his nose and now his lip, coming down his chin, pooling on the collar of his shirt. The gangster crouched in front of him, watching him carefully. Liam took out a white tissue from his pocket and handed it over to him.

Reluctantly, Ben accepted it, wiping his mouth.

"I heard you have two younger sisters," Liam commented, and the journalist's blood froze. "21 and...14, isn't it? Beautiful ages. You've seen them right, Xander?"

"Yes," Xander responded with a heaviness in his voice that sent chills down Ben's spine. "They are pretty things."

"Nick?"

"Very beautiful, boss."

Liam raised his eyebrows, staring right into Ben's soul.

"One of them is a redhead. The youngest, right Nick?"

"Yes."

"Men love redheads, Ben. Especially, with a face full of freckles like she has, being that petite and those eyes...A beauty of a girl. Imagine when she's a full-grown woman. Oh, she'll stop traffic I'm sure. And she would make amazing money as a model or...anything else." Liam whispered, not blinking. His striking face showed no sympathy and, from what the journalist knew of Liam Payne - he wasn't fucking about. "Want me to keep explaining to you how you have no room to bargain with me or do you want to give me the information I desire, Ben?"

Ben gave Liam everything he wanted and more. All the information he deemed important, rolled out of his tongue with ease for the sake of his sisters. He spoke calmly under Liam's gaze, with Xander and Nick lurking back.

Once they were done, the flat was left in disarray, Ben had a broken nose, blood all over his clothes and debt to be paid.

****

One would think that he'd be free from it.

No. Liam did not let him go. He was kept close, watched, and observed. More under the fear that he'd go to Zayn and share all the information he knew.

Which wasn't entirely a lie.

One day, he got into a car and drove to Innov. Ben knew that Zayn was at work and all he wanted was to talk. He wanted to explain. He wanted to warn Zayn that there was an entire operation going around him, with the single aim to push him down.

The journalist parked the car outside of Innov and waited for him. While waiting for Zayn, he snorted a few lines and smoked a joint to calm himself.

What was his plan?

Ben had no idea.

He just knew he wanted to warn Zayn, letting him know that the most dangerous gang in London knew of him.

He saw Zayn's car arrive near the building and immediately Ben sprang into action. He noticed, through the open window, that Zayn was talking on the phone. He also knew Zayn hated to talk and walk at the same time, so he would most likely finish his conversation inside the car before knocking on the window so Jonathan would open the door - a habit taken after his father.

And just as suspected: the car stopped, four blinkers on, Jonathan exited the car and stood on the left side waiting for Zayn's signal.

As the businessman continued his conversation and Jonathan waited for his signal, both were completely unaware of Ben. The journalist snuck from behind the car, coming on the right side, tugged at the handle on the driver's side and pulled the car door open.

In an action that lasted merely seconds and happened too fast for the businessman to register, Ben sat behind the wheel, slammed the door shut and locked the car from the inside.

The journalist looked back, finding Zayn staring at him in surprise.

"We need to talk."

Without thinking, Ben rolled the key on the ignition and the Jaguar roared alive to Jonathan's surprise.

In a heartbeat, the car rolled out of Innov's entrance and was gunning down London streets. Zayn sat in the backseat of the car, without a seatbelt, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Ben kept pressing the pedal, going full speed as far away from Innov, Liam, Louis, and everyone else as he could.

"I know what this looks like..." The journalist added, looking in the rear-view mirror and seeing Zayn terrified in the backseat. "But I promise it will make sense."

"Ben..." Zayn spoke softly. "You need to stop this car-"

"Nope. We need to talk."

"I'm not talking to you while you're driving like a madman. You'll kill us both."

"I'm not. Trust me." Ben added. "You know I'm a good driver."

The car curved to the right, screeching its tires and ran past a red light just in time, nearly missing another car.

Ben didn't have a direction. He just knew he needed to go. The journalist saw a sign indicating an exit to the closest motorway, so he sped towards it, hoping to have a bigger distance between themselves and London.

"I need to talk to you-"

"Stop the car."

"No."

Zayn crawled from the backseat, onto the driver's seat. The Jaguar flew on the motorway, rushing past cars left and right. The speedometer showed over 120km.

"Ben-" Zayn called calmly, reaching for his seat belt. "You're going too fast."

"Yeah, well...kidnapping is the only way to talk to you. You haven't been returning my calls."

"Well, can you blame me?"

"Get over yourself. This is not about us. It's about you." Ben added. "I know. I know I fucked our relationship. I lied. I'm sorry. But, right now, you need to listen to me-"

"I want you to stop this car-"

"I was a journalist. I was. I also am...a fucking drug addict. I agreed to write in the newspaper about you because my editor was busting my balls and I needed a theme. Any theme. And I thought of you..." Ben shrugged going off on his rant without a real point. "Your family. And I was doing fine. I had some things, but nothing significant to author an article about...it was shit. It was all shit-"

"Ben-"

"Shut up!" He snapped back. "Let me talk. I'm sorry. I lied. I fucked up. I'm sorry. I used you for...absolutely nothing. Why? Because I wanted to."

The Jaguar overpassed a truck at full speed. Ben kept his eyes on the road, two hands on the steering wheel and a heavy foot on the gas. The speedometer reached 140km.

"If you could just stop-"

"I'm an addict. Coke, heroin, hash...I've had it all and now, I'm in debt-"

"I can give you money-"

"I don't want your money. Shut up!" Another dangerous overpass, making the tires screech on the motorway." Fuck!"

Ben had complete tunnel vision. He knew what Louis had planned, Doniya's involvement and the level of what was to come. He wanted to warn Zayn and prepare him for the knife that was about to be dug into his back.

"I can't listen when you're going 150km on the motorway-"

"I..." Ben looked in his rear-view mirror seeing the police cars coming behind. "I...You're in danger-"

"I'm in danger-?"

"I mean, your family is-."

"My family-?" Zayn interrupted. "Are you threatening me, Ben?"

"No-!"

"Do you know who I fucking am? Or the influence I have?"

"Oh, please!" Ben snapped out, looking at Zayn for a moment. "Stop flexing at me, you know fucking well that card does not fly with me and you're not good at playing it." Another dangerous dodge from another car with Zayn screamed in fright. "Relax-"

"Fuck! I want to leave! Stop the car!"

"No!"

"Ben, you're going to get us killed!"

"No, I'm not!"

"Do you even know where we're going?" Zayn looked over his shoulder, to the back of the car seeing the police coming closer. "The police are here. Ben, stop!"

"You're not listening to me-"

"I don't want to listen!" Zayn snapped, sitting on the passenger's side. "You tricked me. I thought we had something, but we didn't. You used me to draft a fucking article-"

"I didn't!" Ben argued back, overpassing another car. The speedometer reached 200km - the steering wheel trembled under the forced speed. "I didn't write anything. I didn't care enough to write! I didn't write it!"

"Did you even love me?"

The journalist paused for a moment. His eyes darted to the rear-view mirror, seeing the police coming closer and then he looked at Zayn, who sat next to him with an eager look.

"Did you love me?"

Zayn deflated for a moment. "I thought I did."

"Yeah..." Ben answered. "I thought I did too."

Ben turned to the open road ahead of him. The cars began moving away from his path, creating distance from someone going so fast over the speed limit.

"What are you doing?"

"Your sister." Ben let out a warning. "Don't trust her."

"What?"

"Don't trust anyone."

"You're ridiculous. Stop the car!" Zayn demanded. Ben continued with a tight grip. "Ben!" The journalist shook his head refusing. Zayn looked at the road ahead and then behind him. The young businessman took a deep breath and said, "Fuck this."

Zayn launched towards Ben, twisting the steering wheel towards himself.

The sudden twist, at such a speed, made the car take flight to several meters off the air in an impossible flight. Then, it slammed on its side first with a loud crash, beginning to roll on itself four times until it landed with the wheels up in the air and still rolling.

****

There were flashes of memory coming and going. Pain shoots from every part of his body. People grabbing at him and the taste of blood in his mouth.

When he finally woke up, the journalist found himself in a hospital bed. He thought he was alone, but someone was sitting beside him.

Louis sat at his side, holding an apple and a knife, slowly peeling it, with his dirty boots on the bed. Behind him, by the door, Xander stood quietly eyeing him closely.

"Well, look who it is," Louis added, taking a slice of the apple. "Xander, look! Welcome, Ben! Feeling better?"

Ben tried to sit up on his bed but quickly noticed that his leg was up a few inches off the ground with bolts on it.

"Oh, I'm sure you're confused as to how we're here." Louis joked with a smirk. "Turns out we are overly concerned cousins Xander and I. Who would've thought, huh? Your sisters say hi, by the way...beautiful girls." Louis teased. "Xander loved them, didn't he?"

"Fuck, yeah." He answered.

Ben tried to move, but pain shot up his leg.

"Yeah, you broke that one." Louis pointed out, half chewing on the piece of apple. "Dunno how you're still alive. Wankers do live forever, huh?"

The journalist tried to speak, but the words were jumbled in his brain and his mouth hurt.

"Yeah, can't talk either. Broke your jaw to pieces, mate. Wired shut." Louis shrugged, taking a piece of the apple to his mouth. "Going to be fed through a straw for the next few months, bub."

Ben whimpered a little and Louis sucked on his teeth.

"Oh, you broke a lot of shit, mate..." The boss got up from the chair, leaning over the journalist. As if he were a doctor himself, full of knowledge, Louis grabbed Ben's medical chart and began to read. "Head trauma with swelling of the brain - you were out for quite some time; broken jaw, a few broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, a broken leg in like four places - how does one even do that! Lost a bucketload of blood and you nearly died about three times..." Louis tossed the chart on the bed, looking at Ben with raised eyebrows. "You're a hard motherfucker."

Ben's heart rate began to rise with the machine noticing the sudden increase.

"Hey, shush..." Louis responded. The boss put the knife away, then placed one hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly. "You're okay. Everything is okay. Want to know the good news? You didn't kill Zayn Malik." Ben's heart monitor showed a jump in his beat and the former journalist whimpered. "Yeah, little shit's alive...Thank God. For your sake."

Ben felt his blood grow cold, as Louis Tomlinson stared right into his soul. The boss leaned forward, hovering over him like a crow.

"That was a dumb thing to do, Ben," Louis added with a whisper. "A very dumb thing to do." Ben whimpered through his wired-shut jaw. "Shh...I know...I know...A spur a moment thing. You were high as a kite, trying to be a hero. I get it. I truly do."

Louis squeezed the hand on his shoulder a bit more and Ben winced.

"You know what? Good things come out of disasters, isn't that what they say? So, I'm feeling generous. I'm feeling kind. Let's make things right: Your debt is forgiven. The brick you owe me is nothing but a drop on what I have and what I will have in the future." Louis added with a smile. "All is good, mate."

Despite the smile on his face and the reassuring tone of voice, Ben still didn't rest.

Louis continued:

"I want you to never show your face in London again." Ben's eyes grew big in fear and Louis continued, feeding off of it. "Because if I hear or even dream that you're trying to reach out to Zayn Malik, to warn him of whatever...all of this recovery will be in vain."

Ben's heart rate sped again as Louis inched closer making his point known.

"I will make you disappear, Ben Winston." He whispered close to his face. "If we see each other again, your eyes will not open a second time. Got it?" Louis waited for an answer and didn't move until Ben shook his head, trembling from head to bottom. Louis smirked victoriously. The boss grabbed the apple, took a bite of it, chewed loudly and then spat it back on Ben's face. "Wanker."

Without anything else to add, Louis Tomlinson walked out of the room and left poor Ben to his own devices. Xander lingered for a moment, looking at him.

"It was fun," He added.

And with that, he left. 

Chapter Text

Earlier that morning….

After dropping Mrs Malik at the board meeting, Harry had the morning to himself. He thought about Zayn, hoping the meeting would go his way and he had a good result. He wanted things to work out for him; to have all the success in the world. He wished that Zayn could finally sleep well, smile more and rest up. Possibly, by his side, breathing into him and with his name coming out of those beautiful lips. 

He found it curious that all these… desires were coming up now. As if those emotions had been numb all those years in jail and, now that he was free, his body could react and act as it should. Wouldn’t Zayn be a great way to start?

He thought about the secret tattoos, which according to his boss, covered all of his body. He wondered where…possibly his chest, his stomach, thighs. He had loved the one on the back of his hand. Hidden under all that cheap makeup. What else would Zayn hide? And how could Harry push it out of his system? 

As he sat behind the steering wheel of the car, he wondered what he’d do with his free time. Mrs Malik gave him enough room for him to do whatever he wanted to do when he wasn’t working, so he wasn’t concerned with stepping over some kind of line. 

He had been in the real world for six weeks now. He wondered if it was the right time to reach out to his family. Begin working that relationship to a better place. Since his body was already hungry for someone, perhaps it was time to fix those bridges too. 

After all, the family was important.

He had been arrested immediately and put in jail. There he waited for the trial and stayed for the duration of it. His mother would often visit and she would keep the faith that he would get out soon. Anne would hold his hand tight, sending her all the good energy and positivity only a mother could have. 

“You’re going to get out, love. I know it.” She would repeat over and over. 

But Harry knew the truth. He knew that he wasn’t going to get out. Not anytime soon. He was a sacrifice for the greater good. However, the young Styles would take it, agree and pretend to believe.

When the judge read the sentence, Harry heard Anne sob, while he kept his head down. Keeping composed, hands in front of him, but the verdict hit him like a ton of bricks. As the police took him away, Harry didn’t even look back despite his mother calling his name. Inside the police car, he cried quietly and, to his surprise, the police gave him his space. He wondered how many prisoners had they seen crying in the back of the car. 

During his stay in the big house, Harry refused to receive visits from his sister and his mother. He was too ashamed. He had caused too much hurt and he had seen it in his mother’s eyes in the courtroom, while she wiped her tears. Thinking he had been the cause of her tears, made his heart shrink. Harry didn’t reply to letters or accepted phone calls. He wasn’t punishing them. He was punishing himself for hurting them in such a way. He didn’t deserve to be around such loving women - he deserved to be alone. 

Growing up, his mother had told him time and time again that Louis was not good company. 

“Sometimes, I believe you listen to me but choose to ignore me,” Anne commented, one day from the kitchen. “I’ve told you, since you were little, that Tomlison boy is no good.”

“He’s my friend, mum.” Harry would argue. “We all hang out together. Me, him and Payno.”

“I don’t like it,” Anne responded. “I’m uneasy. I heard he steals cars and sells drugs. I don’t want you near him.”

“He doesn’t.” Harry lied, as he held his mother. “All we do is just…do shitty stuff like the teenagers we are.”

“Promise you’ll behave.”

“Always, mum.”

But he didn’t behave. He never did. Anne never asked where the money came from either, since Harry didn’t have a job and didn’t even attempt to University. Harry knew his mother was choosing to ignore his actions and it was fine for him. What he didn’t want, was for her or for Gemma to be hurt. 

During his stay, Harry only had one visitor: Liam. It was a short visit, where Liam assured him that everything was fine. He would take care of Gemma and Anne and Harry would have protected the inside of their enemies. He wasn’t abandoned. He was valued and loved by all of them. 

Harry did not say a word. And that was the only and last visit he ever got within those thick walls. 

But now, he was out. Maybe this visit was a good way to start. 

Seeing he still had a lot of time on his hands until the meeting was over, he drove out of the big city, heading someplace he was sure to find a familiar face. 

He got to the primary school in the middle of the morning, parking the car across the street. Harry got out, just in time as the bell rang and a horde of children came out running, ready for their morning break. Harry watched discreetly, seeing their happy little faces without a care in the world. He wasn’t staring at the children, instead, he hoped to find a familiar adult face. 

She came out shortly after holding the hand of a young one and ordering the other students to behave. Her hair was longer, still dark, but her smile was the same. She wore a warm turtleneck and a long skirt, with a cardigan - a very traditional first-grade teacher look. The young woman fixed the clothes of the young one and then sent him on his way to play. The teacher joined a small group of colleagues who watched the children. 

Harry crossed the road, standing on the other side of the fence, watching the young teacher talk with her colleagues. She was older, more mature and more beautiful. Her laughter echoed to him and he chuckled too with her. He had missed very much.

However, when her eyes moved to the side, they caught him. Her smile faded and she went pale. First, the teacher couldn't believe her eyes, then her eyebrows gathered on her forehead and, once she understood who he was, the young teacher placed one hand over her mouth. Her face contorted in what appeared to be a silent cry. The teacher walked towards the big gate, without averting her eyes from Harry, who was glued to the ground. She stepped out of the school grounds and it was obvious she had tears coming down her blue eyes.

Harry walked towards her without saying a word. He stood close to the teacher who cried silently looking at him. She appeared to cry even harder when seeing him up close. 

Harry held his sister as she cried in his arms. Gemma held him tight in an embrace five years too late - the two siblings were reunited once more. 

Once they parted, Harry wiped her tears and Gemma wiped his.

“You look ugly when you cry, duckie.” He let out and Gemma smacked him on the arm, playfully. “Do you have five minutes?”

“Ye-Yes,” Gemma responded wiping his tears. The teacher called a colleague asking for a few minutes, and the colleague seeing her face, understood. “Come on, there’s a park nearby. Get me some coffee.”

****

Harry handed Gemma her tall cup of coffee on a paper cup, then sat next to her. The two Styles siblings remained side by side in silence, listening to the noises of the children not that far. The day was warm and inviting, the park had a few runners and casual walkers enjoying the winter morning. 

“When did you get out?” Gemma wondered, after a long pause. 

Harry kept his eyes on his cup, before answering.  

“About a month or so,” He added.  “It was rough at first, getting a job and whatnot. But, I’m okay now.”

“You could’ve said something. Anything, Harry.”

“I…I wanted to be okay and settled, before reaching out.” He explained. “I didn’t want you to feel like…I was a burden or something. Causing you all types of aches, just to come back and become a heaviness in your lives.”

“We would never do that.”

“I know…” Harry responded. “But, I just felt I needed some time. I’m working now.” 

Gemma looked at his outfit, then arched an eyebrow. 

“You’re not back in the life, are you?”

“No, no. I promise you I’m not. It’s a proper job. I'm the driver for this rich family.”

“Good. You like driving.”

“Yeah, it’s rather relaxed,” Harry explained softly. Gemma’s hand ran through his hair, feeling his loose curls all combed back. “I got a haircut.”

“I can tell. You look so proper.” The sister dotted with pride. “You look good, Harry.”

“Thank you.”

“And I’m proud that you haven’t crossed Louis’s path.” Harry did not add the fact that it had been Louis to get him the job. He knew Gemma would instinctively begin spiralling and worrying. That wasn’t the moment right now. It was the moment for them to connect. “I’m sick of him and his people. Especially Xander…”

The story between Harry and Xander went further than just a betrayal. The two had gotten involved way back when in a steamy affair that was short-lived. It had been casual - at least, Harry underlined time and time again that it was casual. Just something to ease up his momentary hunger. They would ride together many times, as Xander insisted on being Harry’s ‘muscle’ for difficult approaches, but the driver was never too fond of it. 

It didn't take long for Harry to catch on to Xander’s demented behaviour. Xander was unstable, had a wicked sense of humour and knew how to use his strength. For Harry, he was submissive and quiet, falling on his knees, bending over and calling Harry ‘sir’.

However, when it was time to demonstrate power to the outside, Xander had blood on his hands. He was the one who wasn’t afraid to pull the trigger, play with his food,  or cause havoc. A loose cannon. 

So, having this unstable man around his family, knowing his history, was enough to make Harry perk up. 

“Did he do something?”

“I mean, it wasn’t…It wasn’t a big thing…and maybe it was my fault, I had the opened window-”

“Gemma-”

“Just…” The sister held her cup tighter. “I…I caught him outside the house a couple of times. Looking at me through the window. I’m not sure what he was doing but…I think he was…I don’t know touching… ”

“Fucking wanker-”

“No, don’t start.”

“He’s such a fucking loser.” Harry got to his feet, pacing from side to side. “I told Louis a million times, I did not want Xander around any of you. You’d think he’d listen to me, but no.”

“You think he might resent you in a way?”

“Why would he?”

“He…had feelings for you…no?”

“I was never serious about it and he knew. Besides, if anyone has resentment towards Xander it’s me.”

“Harry, it doesn’t matter.” Gemma calmed down. “I confronted him about it and he stopped. I haven’t seen him.”

“He hasn’t stopped, Gemma. He’s just doing it better.”

“Thanks. That makes me feel so much safer, Harry.” The sister winced at the thought of still being under surveillance. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not in that life anymore. You owe them nothing. You gave enough.”

Harry walked over to his sister, sitting next to her. The driver drank his coffee and the teacher mimicked him. 

“This coffee is fucking awful,” Harry commented setting it aside, while Gemma chuckled lightly. “Worse than in jail.”

“Jail had good coffee?”

“Surprisingly, yes.” 

Gemma peeked back at her brother, nudging him slightly. “Have you seen mum?”

“No,”

“Why not?”

“Not sure if I’m…ready for that.”

“You think she doesn’t want to see you?”

“No, nothing to do with her,” Harry explained, rubbing his palms together. “It’s me. I’m the issue. I don’t think…I don’t think I’m worthy of seeing her, you know? I kept hearing her cry and sob for me. I hurt her so much. I wouldn’t know how to talk to her again.”

“She’s your mother. You’re not some strange woman. You know her.”

“I know. I know…” Harry let out shyly. “I just need some time before apologising to her and hoping she’d forgive me.”

“She has forgiven you,” Gemma explained. “It’s you who hasn’t forgiven yourself.”

“Maybe…” Harry commented, looking at his shoes. “How is she?”

“She’s okay,” Gemma responded with a smile. “Her new hobby is gardening. You won’t recognize the house, there’s a whole botanical garden in our backyard.”

“Amazing,” Harry responded. “I’ll get around to her. I promise you.”

“Can I tell her that I saw you?”

The driver pondered for a moment. If Anne knew he was out, it was likely she’d hunt him down in the desperate need to see him. Probably go around to ask Louis about it and Harry did not want his mother around that part of his life anymore. 

“No, I’ll reach out. I promise.” Harry smiled back. “But, enough about me. Tell me about you. I honestly had no expectations of still finding you here teaching.”

“I like this school and they are good children. First and second-graders are such sponges, they take everything in. It’s beautiful.”

“Okay. So, you’re happy teaching here.”

“Yes,”

“That’s work. How are matters of the heart? Has Michael proposed yet?”

Gemma smiled, blushing slightly. The young woman showed her right hand, where a sparkly ring sat on her finger. Harry took her hand, analysed the ring and seemed impressed. 

“Jeez. You can cut someone with that rock.”

“It’s not that big. Stop.” The sister retrieved her hand. “How about you?”

“Oh, please, don’t do that,” Harry responded with a smirk. “I don’t have the emotional capacity to do any of that. Let alone be engaged.”

“I would love to see someone at your side.”

“Oh yeah? Me too. Point me in their direction.”

“You’ve had good partners, don’t be a dick.”

“Oh, but I am a dick. It ended because I was a dick.” 

During his time as a free man and a criminal, all of Harry’s relationships were short-lived. Mostly men, and a few flings with women, but none of them consumed him.

None of them filled him up to the brim.

None of them was strong enough to pull him out of the life. It was all meaningless, casual, cold and distant.

He longed for a love so intense it would set him on fire. Looking for it in every corner, every month, every opened leg. It never came. So, that feeling remained dormant inside of him. A distant dream, lulled into hibernation, while he sat inside a cell for five years. 

Surprisingly, the thought of Zayn flashed in his memory. 

“No. I have nothing on the horizon for me.” Harry confessed, picturing Zayn walking ahead of him.  “I only want to get back to on my feet and be normal again. But please, tell me about your wedding plans, duckie-”

“There are no plans, curly. We don’t have a date yet. We’re not in a rush.”

“Please, don’t be those couples that stay engaged for years-”

“Do you know how much a wedding costs? It’s insane. And in this economy - every single priced thing is under inflation. God, it’s ridiculous-”

“I’ll pay for it,” Harry blurted out.  Gemma snapped her head to him and the brother shrugged. “Get whatever you want. The biggest cake, the most expensive dress, the most amazing venue…I’ll pay for it.”

“Harry, I don’t believe being a driver pays that much-”

“It doesn’t.” He explained. “But, I have the money.”

Gemma’s face fell, searching for a possible explanation. She was smart and quick with her understanding. 

“I don’t want dirty money.”

“It’s not.”

“It’s not? Where...Who did it come from? Louis?”

“Yes, but he assured me it’s clean.”

“And you believe him.”

“Louis is a lot of things, but he wouldn’t lie about money. He doesn’t play about money. It’s clean. It looks and feels clean.”

“How much?”

“Seven million,” Harry responded and Gemma’s eyes grew big. “Don’t ask me how. Don’t ask. Just know that I have it and I don’t know what to do with it. I’ll give it to you and you plan the wedding of a lifetime.” 

“Louis just gave that to you?”

“Yes,”

Gemma got up from her seat, standing in front of Harry. The teacher drank a little bit of the coffee, pondering the situation. Behind her the bell ran, indicating recess was over. 

“And you don’t want to keep the money?”

“No,” 

“Then donate it,” Gemma suggested. “I’d rather you give that money to a noble cause than me keeping it and using it for my benefit. Even if it's clean, it came from Louis and I don’t want my marriage connected to him anyway. Donate the money.”

“Okay. I will…”

The two siblings shared a smile. Then, the brother got up from his seat and hugged Gemma close. 

“I have to run,” She said, nestled into him. “Call mum, please. I won’t keep your secret for long.”

“Okay,” 

“Can I ask something of you?”

“Anything.”

“Don’t go silent for long,” Gemma asked. “I’ll miss you too much.”

“I promise, duckie.”

Louis sat on one of the chairs looking at the stage where the girls rehearsed. He liked to see them move and he knew they wanted to impress him - he was the big man, after all. He gave no input, just watched quietly - sometimes he reacted with a hiss, a grin or moving his eyebrows whenever one of the girls did something tempting towards him. He loved watching them slide across the stage, legs stretched out, arching their backs or bending over. He could stay there for hours. 

The previous night has been a solid one. Good money, good clients, good night. The girls had been exceptional. All beautiful, smelling nice and looking like a Goddess. 

This wasn’t Tomlinson’s only clean establishment. He also had a luxury car dealership, a hotel and a restaurant. All places where the money would come in dirty and out clean. All of the establishments run like a proper businesses, with legit documentation and everything according to code. There was not a single thing out of order - there couldn’t be! He needed to be protected from all sides, so he could work his business. He wanted a machine that ran by itself, without his interference. This big move he was pulling was just that: an entire system, with far reach, giving him what he wanted. 

However, his prize possession was the Velvet. Most of his businesses were conducted there and everyone was welcome. Even the police. He knew there were a few investigative eyes amongst his patrons every night - hunting for a slip-up. But he wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t mess up. 

It had been a long run since stealing cars and selling cheap weed. A slow march into London, creating connections and growing his empire. He was the man. The legend. The myth. Everyone, who is everyone, had either heard of him or seen him. He was untouchable and a king. All of that, while wearing Adidas joggers and raggedy Nike trainers. It wasn’t about the looks for him - that was Liam’s business - it was about power. And one could have power, even when dressing like a chav.

Louis sat back on his chair, as the lovely Brianna danced in front of him to the sound of the music. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, as she dropped on all fours in front of the boss. She wore a crop top showing her skinny stomach, with a pierced belly button, but not enough to protect her breasts which stood perky and with nipples poking. The dancer grabbed the nearest pole, standing up and twirling around it. Her long legs peeked from her gym shorts and perfect toes came out of her see-through heels. She moved with elegance, lifting off the ground and flying around the pole. 

Louis bit his lip, watching her move. What a beauty she was. What a temptation she was. He wasn’t Liam. He didn’t take pleasure in touching the merchandise, but boy was it tempting.

When the music ended and the lights came on, Louis showered her with lonely applause. Brianna giggled walking across the stage in front of him. 

“Beautiful, Bri.” Louis let out. “Amazing.”

The woman crouched in front of him. 

“Thank you, boss.”

“Here,” Louis searched within his jumper and took a roll of bills. He counted a few, then handed them to Brianna. “Get yourself pretty for me, huh?”

“You always say that and I never see you in the audience.”

“Trust me, love. I’m watching you.” Louis held out his hand. Brianna took it and he landed her a soft kiss. “Get something nice. Make it black, yeah.”

“Yes, sir.” She responded as smooth as velvet. 

Brianna got to her feet and walked with her hips swaying. 

“Fuck me…” Louis mumbled watching her go. 

Everything inside of him was screaming to get to her. The businessman grabbed his glass of vodka and drank it all. 

“Pretty little thing, huh?” Liam’s voice came to his ear. “And she likes you too, boss.”

Louis turned around seeing Liam sitting beside him, counting piles of money - probably his share of what his girls had done the day before. 

“She’s just…” Louis’s phone rang and a number popped on the screen. Immediately, any inclination of arousal fled his body. Eleanor was calling. “Fuck me.”

Louis’s and Eleanor’s story was long, toxic and unnecessarily dramatic. They had started dating in their teens and they were madly in love. Emphasis on the madly.

Eleanor demanded to be the only one for Louis, however, Louis couldn’t stand the idea of having her as his only. However, he wouldn’t let Eleanor have anyone else. She was untouchable. She was his queen. They would separate, reunite, just to separate and get back together again. 

He showed the screen to Liam who snorted a chuckle. 

“What?”

“Oh, blessings you picked up the phone!”

“I will hang up now-”

“No! Listen, I need money-”

“Shocker.”

“Fuck off!” She snapped back. “ Danny needs medication. We’re running low. ”

Louis pinched his nose. Fucking hell! Why did he skip the condom and went in raw on this woman? All it took was fucking her in the back of his car, after a deal went well, and a baby happened. Not all pussy was worth the hassle.

“Fine. I’ll send one of the boys with something.”

“Will I see you tonight?”

And why did he keep coming back to this crazy brunette with a good pussy and a mouth to die for? Louis knew they were inches away from killing one another, but also from fucking one another crazy. 

“I don’t know.”

“You never know anything!”

“That’s right I don’t. Can you get off my line now? You’re shitting my ear.”

“You know what, don’t come by!” Eleanor spat back. “ Don’t come back into this house, you bloody wanker. You’re fucking tosser. Terrible excuse for a father and even worse man!”

“Yeah, until you need money again, right?” Louis argued. “Bye, Eleanor.”

He ended the call feeling exhausted just from a 30-second conversation. However, he knew that he’d be in her bed by nightfall - fucking her out of anger and passion. She would slap him a bit, and call him all kinds of names, but say she loved him. It was insanity.

His mind was distant, when Liam touched his arm, pulling him back. 

“Fucking hell…”

“What?”

“Look.”

When Louis followed Liam’s gaze he caught something he wasn’t expecting to happen any time soon: Harry coming into the Velvet. After their definitive conversation, seeing him there was the last thing on his bingo card that morning.

Harry was frowning with an angry look on his face. Louis knew that look - it had made small appearances through the years, but that meant that Harry was not fucking about. 

Harry’s eyes wandered around the room, with the intent of finding someone specific. He didn’t even acknowledge Louis and Liam standing close by. When Harry found his target, he began walking to it. 

He was gunning for Xander. 

“Shit,” Louis mumbled. 

He looked at the two men standing by the bar moving his head with a sharp nod. The men followed Harry who, was closer to reaching Xander, sitting with his back to the door. Then, out of nowhere, Harry pushed Xander off his seat. Immediately emotions ran high, with Xander and Harry yelling accusations at one another, while the men tried to keep them separate. 

Louis looked back at Liam, who shrugged with surprise. 

“What Harry?” Xander asked from behind one of the bodyguards, with an idiot smirk on his lips. “Why are you so vexed?”

“You stay away from my sister.” Harry, demanded with anger.

Louis cussed himself, standing close by. He looked over his shoulder, seeing Liam had sat down again with feet on a chair and money in his hand. 

“Or what?” Xander teased. “You’ll beat the shit out of me? Come on. Let’s get to it, then.”

“I might. You had it coming. You know that!”

“You never raised a hand in your life, pretty boy,” Xander growled with wide eyes.  “I dare you to take a shot at me. Come on right here on the chin.”

Harry lunged at Xander, but the bodyguard kept him at bay with a push. 

“Enough!” The boss demanded and the two men quieted down. “We don't do this in front of everyone. Let us go upstairs and solve this-”

“I’m not going upstairs.” Harry snapped back looking at Louis with intention. The driver pushed the bodyguard away from him, glaring at him. Then, he focused back on Louis. “I don’t work for you. I’m not in any of this shit and I don’t have to do what you want,” 

The driver looked at Xander pointing a finger at him “If I even suspected you’re lurking around Gemma, I’ll break your fucking legs. You don’t want to test me, you little boy.”

“Who are you calling-?” Xander began, but Louis cut him short with a quick look. Seconds later, Harry walked out of the Velvet and was out of sight. The environment was tense, with everyone returning to their places. “Bloody wanker.”

With a flash, Louis turned to Xander and smacked him across the head.

“Why is it you’re always causing shit?”

“Louis, what a-”

“Shut up,” Louis ordered with a finger pointing in his face. “I told you to behave.  I told you you’d be flying low; now here you are acting up again. I’m done with your shit. Go home. Come back when I call you.”

Mumbling and cussing to himself, Xander grabbed his belongings and walked out of the Velvet. Despite the show, Louis was impressed. The Harry he knew was still lurking in there somewhere - he just needed to bring him out.

And he wasn’t just about to give up like that. 

Later that night, 

After dropping Mrs Malik home, Harry spent the rest of the afternoon in his bedroom reading his book. 

Or trying to read, at least. 

He was still boiling after confronting Xander at the Velvet, so he kept to himself. It was best for him to cool off on his own. Or, at least, try to. He hated the thought of Xander- fucking, Xander! - lurking around his family. Especially, after he had warned Louis about him so many times. 

“He’s hot-headed,” Harry explained once, as they gathered in the office above the Velvet. Beneath them, the club roared alive with the girls on stage being sexy and decadent. That night Xander had lost his cool and nearly jeopardised a possible relationship with another crew. “He’s going to cost us. I’m telling you.”

“Well, it wasn’t a problem when you were bending him over the bathroom,” Liam commented, looking into his phone. 

“That was different.”

“Oh, so it works in sex, but not in business.”

“Precisely,” Harry responded, turning to his friend. His hair was longer back then, already creating lazy waves covering his ears. “He insisted on coming with me to initial approaches knowing nothing about the other side, talks too much, says the wrong shit and punched the shit out of a Serbian. We were surrounded. It could’ve gone so wrong.”

“That’s why you’re there,” Louis responded, with feet on the table and a pile of money in hand. “To keep everyone cool.”

“I don’t want him around.”

“You’re not in charge, Hazza. I am.”

“I’m your advisor. Liam is the one in charge of taking control of the soldiers. So far, you have one out of line and none of you is doing anything about it.” 

“Enough, okay?” Louis argued back. “Xander is a kid. If he’s misbehaving, pull him aside, slap him about and set him in his place. If that doesn’t work, put a gag on him, fuck him senseless and then leave him on the side of the road. I don’t know. I don’t care.”

Harry turned to the floor seeing Xander being boastful and loud with the rest of the crew. Accidentally, a man bumped into him and the soldier was already looking for violence. Intimidating the man, pushing him around. Harry opened the door, called the nearest man and gave him an instruction: Send Xander home.

Harry watched as the man, alongside another, went to the floor and grabbed Xander by the arm. He argued a little, but once he noticed he was being kicked out of the Velvet, the man quieted. He looked and up saw Harry looking down, then showed him two middle fingers. Harry raised him a glass and blessed him as he exited. 

****

The phone rang with an unknown number. Harry looked at his screen and did not recognize who was calling. He dreaded calls from strangers.

Yet, given his job, he picked it up. 

“Hello?”

“Harry ?”

He knew the voice and accent. Immediately, he perked up. “Mr Horan?”

“Niall, mate.”

“Yes, Niall. Hi. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Everything’s fine. Listen, I just got out of this hotel downtown. I left Zayn at the bar drinking. Can you go pick him up?”

Harry sat up. One look at the clock, he understood it was past his hour and his client, Mrs Malik, was already at home. So, this was something extraordinary for him to do. 

And yet, he accepted it without thinking. 

“Sure,” Harry responded. “I’m guessing the meeting didn’t go as planned.”

“It did, but it was odd.” Niall answered. “Anyways. Go pick up’em. I’d hate for some cabby to charge him extra or con him because of his state.”

“I’m on the way. Where is he?”

“The Savoy. You know it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. He’s at the bar - at least, I left him there. Keep my number, yeah? In case you can’t find him or something.”

“Yes, of course.”

Minutes later, he was already en route to the hotel as quickly as he could. He parked outside the Savoy, entered and headed towards the bar. He knew the place. He’d have several meetings here, right at that bar. He noticed that some of the staff were surprised to see him too. 

Harry quickly spotted Zayn sitting at the bar, massaging his temple with a drink in front of him. He was relieved that he had found him where Niall had left him.

After a quick exchange, he managed to get Zayn on his feet, but the CEO lost balance falling right into his arms. Harry caught him, holding him close and loving every second of him. Together they walked to the car Harry pressed Zayn’s body against him. The driver helped him onto the car and was surprised when he saw the tattoos on his skin. He adored Zayn’s invitation to check them closer - oh, that was a nice move from him. 

As he drove home, Harry kept shooting glances at Zayn in the backseat. He was slumped, his shirt opened at the chest showing more tattoos on his torso. He had his eyes closed, lips parted and head to the side - completely out of it. His legs were open, with one hand resting on the inside of his thigh, close to his groin. 

The discreet outline of his manhood was visible in his pants, resting to the side. Harry wondered if he could feel it with one hand or if he’d take two hands. How it would fill his mouth or taste. He pressed his knees together, as his mouth watered with the thought of it. 

His mind was so distracted, he nearly hit on the car ahead of him, having to brake suddenly. Zayn behind him moaned at the sudden stop. 

“Sorry,” Harry responded, but Zayn kept in his world enjoying the drunken haze. That moan stayed with Harry, though. It was the only sound inside the car and it kept playing inside his head. 

Would he always sound like that? Or was it more intense? Coming deeper from his stomach?

It wasn’t much until they were stopping at the house. Harry got out of the car, leaving his door open. He went to the other side holding it for Zayn. 

“Hey, we’re home.” 

Zayn opened his drunken eyes, looking at Harry. For a moment, the CEO said nothing. 

“Hi,”

“Hello.”

“Your eyes are really green…”

Harry felt himself blush. “I fear you’ve had too much to drink.”

“Just a tad, really.”

“We should get you in bed.”

“Good idea.”

“Come on. I’ll help you.”

Harry pulled on Zayn helping him stand out of the car. He got him to stand out, without swaying.

He seemed stable.

He wasn’t blackout drunk, just a little tipsy and perhaps dizzy.

After making sure that his boss was steady on his feet, the driver turned to close both car doors. 

Once he turned around, he didn’t see Zayn standing. 

He had fallen to the ground. 

“Shit,” The driver crouched next to his boss and lightly padded him on the face. “Mr Malik?” 

He slapped him around a bit harsher and Zayn opened his eyes. 

“I told you to call me Zayn.”

“Yes,” Harry answered, grinning back. “Can you stand?”

“Only if you help me.”

“Okay. Let’s go then.”

Harry pulled Zayn up and together they walked to the house. Zayn pulled the key out of his pocket and Harry opened it.

Harry did get a tour of the home back when the family had welcomed him on his first day, but still, he wasn’t accustomed to the sheer opulence of the Malik home. Beautifully decorated, with modern style, sober colours and strict lines. Everything was smooth and minimalistic, but one knew a family lived there. There were pictures everywhere, personal items lying around and a warmth that was unusual in a house like this. There was love there. Support. Togetherness. It came down the walls, up the stairs and sipped into the fabric. 

Soon they were on their way to Zayn’s bedroom, without anyone noticing. 

When Harry entered Zayn’s room he was surprised. Was it a bedroom or a living room with a bed?

He wasn’t sure, but it was massive. A big bed full of pillows, windows overlooking the back of the house, a desk with a computer and a sofa in the middle of the room.

Two doors in the back, one probably for the bathroom and one for the walk-in closet. The room smelled sweet, it was clean and welcoming. Harry caught some of Zayn’s belongings in the bed -  his pyjamas and clothes he’d wear around the house.

But what he found the most curious was the white teddy bear sitting on his side table. A simple man, inside a house way too big for his ways. 

Harry guided him to the sofa, sitting him down. 

“There. All set.” 

Zayn slumped to the sofa and let out a heavy sigh. 

“I promise you, I’m not this useless when I drink.”

“It was a long day.”

“And what a fucked up day it was,”

Harry would have left. He actually walked to the door, prepared to leave. Any other day, he would’ve turned his back, letting Zayn deal with his drunkenness to himself or perhaps call his mother to deal with it.

However, something made him stay. He closed the door quietly, then turned to Zayn who was still on his sofa unbuttoning the shirt further down, then tossing his shoes aside and undoing his belt to feel more comfortable. Something enticed him to listen. To stay. To be in his space for a little more.  

Quietly, he wandered back to the sofa and sat next to Zayn.

“What happened?”

“I believe I sold my soul,” Zayn frowned looking into the distance. “Or something like that.”

“Dramatic,”

“Did you ever have to do shady deals with shady people?”

“All the time,” Harry responded with a shrug. “The trick is to see ahead of their shadiness.”

“What if you can’t see?” Zayn asked, looking at him. “What if, I know that is fucking wrong, but…I can’t help it. I need them.”

“Then, be ready for impact.”

Zayn studied his face for a while and Harry felt himself tremble at his foundation. How could someone look like that?

Suddenly, Zayn winced, grabbing his head. “My head,” 

“Let me see,” Harry inched closer, as Zayn sat up. The driver checked his head, touching his lazy waves. With his finger, he felt a slight bump from where he had hit his head a few moments ago. “You need ice. Let me run down the kitchen.”

“No need,” Zayn commented, sitting back on his sofa. “I have it at the bar. Right there.”

Zayn pointed to a small cabinet by the window.

“You have a bar in your bedroom?” Harry commented, walking to the corner. He opened it, seeing a shelf with a couple of bottles, most of them to be opened, and an ice machine. “The rich are different.”

“I heard that,” 

Harry grinned, getting some ice and cloth he found. He wrapped the ice on it, then walked back to Zayn, sitting closer to him.

Without thinking, he placed the ice against the bump on his head. The CEO winced a little. 

“Come on, man up.”

“So violent.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want you walking around with a bump on your head. It ruins the look.” Zayn smiled at him and Harry mirrored him. “So, aside from shady deals, did you get the votes?”

“I did,” Zayn responded with pride. “I’m yet to see how much it’ll cost me, though. Dealing with these…big people always comes with a set of politics that I’m not used to.”

“And they say business and politics don’t go together.”

“Business is politics.”

“Drugs are politics too,” Harry commented. “Ego masturbation to the max.”

“Masturbated a lot of people back in the day, huh?”

“Oh, you have no idea. Stroking egos all around.”

They were sitting face to face. Harry’s hand holding ice against Zayn’s head; Close enough to smell one another, invading one another’s space, but not being bothered by it. 

Harry’s eyes fell on Zayn, admiring his beauty up close. What a perfect nose, amazing jawline and those lips - parted and tempting. 

So close. 

It was like looking into the void - there was too much to admire. To take in. Those brown eyes, with the long lashes fluttering towards him. Inviting him in. Wanting him closer. 

Perhaps, he sighed a bit too loud, catching Zayn’s attention. Perhaps he made his intentions too clear. Maybe the desire was too obvious in Harry’s eyes, but the biggest detail was that it was mirrored in Zayn as well. 

That same intention. 

That same intensity.

That lingering invitation for temptation. 

Right there. 

Time slowed a little. Both of them assessed one another, checking each thing they liked about the other. Hypnotised by the other’s beauty. 

Perhaps, Harry moved in first. 

Or maybe Zayn, under the drunk courage, inched forward. 

They kiss and it was explosive.

Harry dropped the ice, cupping Zayn’s face - as it was typical of him - dragging his lips into his. He tasted Zayn with eagerness. Harry dominated the moment, diving deeper into Zayn, getting every single taste of him on his lips and loving the taste of the cocktail on his tongue.

Blood rushed all over him, making him burn inside, as the fire unleashed without measure. When Harry heard Zayn’s soft pants of desire against his lips, he dove deeper. They moved in a perfect waltz, their tongues rubbing on one another. 

Seeing an opening, Zayn climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Zayn held on to his face, pulling his mouth closer and tasting the driver with all the bottled-up desire. With his head tilted up, Harry drowned on his lips, losing all sense of self and letting Zayn take over. His tongue ran across the mouth, rubbing against his lips. Zayn’s fingers spread out on Harry’s darkened hair, grabbing a handful of his lazy curls.

Zayn tilted his head a bit more, drowning him ever further and Harry let him. With one arm wrapped around his waist, Harry adjusted so Zayn could sit on him with all his weight. Surprisingly, Zayn was heavier than he thought, but Harry could take it. He could take all of it and wanted nothing more. The sound of their kisses, as they melted into one another, echoed in the bedroom.

 They were two halves of the same piece, coming together perfectly. Harry dared to open his eyes a little, seeing Zayn completely into it. His face was rested, and calm; beautiful eyes, closed but enjoying it. Harry felt Zayn's arousal poking through his jeans, rubbing against him. Harry's hips mimicked a familiar movement and Zayn responded. They rocked back and forfh, for a moment, rubbing on one another. The movement of both their parts coming together, leaving them panting into each other's lips.

The driver gasped out of breath. He was close to fainting - in fact, he felt himsel falling completely in Zayn. When he opened his eyes again, he caught Zayn staring back with a darkened stare.

Harry paused for a moment, not moving his lips, giving the power to Zayn, who caught on to his surrendering. Harry fell into the kiss, rolling his eyes close, letting the divine pleasure come down on him.

For a moment, they did nothing, but brush their lips against one another. Harry felt himself on fire, heart pounding, lips swollen and tasting of Zayn. What a kiss. 

The kiss faded naturally, with them breathing into one another. 

When he opened his eyes, Harry caught Zayn looking down at him with a hint of uncontrollable hunger. How beautiful he was. How tempting. How delicious.

Oh, shit. He thought.

Zayn slowly understood what had just happened. He blinked once. 

Twice. 

And then...

“Shit,” Zayn let out, climbing off Harry. The CEO stumbled to his feet as if he had woken up from a daze and stood up. Harry’s eyes stopped in his crotch where a visible bump made itself known. Zayn looked down, covering himself. “Oh my God. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Harry answered, licking his lips still feeling them tingly with Zayn’s imprint. His ears were buzzing, bloody pumping through his veins in a way that hadn't been in five years. He felt dizzy. "Erm…it’s okay-”

“I’m truly sorry, Harry. I have no idea what got into me-”

“I’ll…” Harry cleared his throat, feeling the rubble of emotion rush over him. He needed a moment. He needed a moment now. “I’ll just leave-”

“Harry-”

“No, no, no seriously…” The driver got up from his seat, feeling his heart pound against his ears. His jeans were tight around the crotch with his arousal demanding release. “It’s okay.”

He walked to the door, feeling Zayn behind him. 

“Please, don’t think ill of me. I’m so sorry. I was out of line. I don’t want you-”

“It’s okay,” Harry responded, opening the door. “Please, don’t feel bad. It’s fine. See you tomorrow and feel better.”

The driver rushedly closed the door behind him. He practically ran from Zayn’s room, down the steps, across the living room out of the house, turning to the back garden.

He had no idea where he was walking or why he was walking, but he needed the cold air. 

He half jogged, half ran from temptation, with no aim or goal. When he was far enough, he slowed down. Harry slumped against a tree, sitting on the cold and dirty ground. 

Harry closed his eyes, feeling Zayn still, tasting him on his lips. His eyes closed, feeling him all over again. Panting, feeling he couldn't breath with all the desire running through him, Harry inserted his fingers on his mouth, brushing against his tongue; then, removed them going down his chin and closing his entire hand around his neck.

That same hand, travelled down his stomach and into his pants, where he stroked himself. He did it with his eyes closed, with the memory still vivid in his mind. Soon enough he was panting with an open mouth, while his hand moved fast on his length. He pumped himself rapidly, with no shame, just pure desire jumping out of his skin. 

He came with a lonely whimper, into his hand thinking of Zayn. Moaning his name into the night.

When he opened his eyes, he felt like himself again. He looked back at the house, at Zayn’s window and the kiss replayed in his mind. 

He had loved every minute of it and he'd love to have it again.

*****

Back in his bedroom, Zayn sat against the door, unsure of what happened. He covered his eyes, feeling stupid that he had done the same mistake - again. 

But, this time it was different. 

Intense. 

He felt like he was on fire. He wasn’t even aware of his hand going to his length, stroking himself slowly. He kept his eyes on that sofa, where he still saw the outline of their bodies together. He amped up the speed, squeezing a bit more. Pulling his cock out, he touched himself on the floor of his bedroom. His head against the door, dreaming still of Harry’s lips. 

He came with a loud sigh echoing in his room.. Panting, he stayed against the door looking out the window. Harry’s lips were still imprinted on him.  

A kiss like no other.

Chapter Text

Harry sat at the coffee table, with a mug in front of him. The dark liquid sat getting colder by the minute as he replayed last night's events in his mind.

The kiss. He hadn't stopped thinking about the kiss.

The previous night, he got into his bedroom, as quietly as he could, still shaking and heart thumping. He paced back and forth in his bedroom, with the kiss still in him. He didn't know whether to be happy or excited or fearful.

He was feeling everything at once. He took off all his clothes and got into bed naked feeling the sheets against his skin and looking at the ceiling. Was Zayn feeling the same? Or was it just him, feeling silly and naive like a schoolgirl who kissed her crush in the back of the school?

Harry turned and turned in bed. He wanted to kick the moment off his mind, but couldn't. It followed him in his dreams where he found Zayn just like that: sitting on top of him, rubbing on him, hearing his soft pants and the imprint of his lips. So vivid and intense. Zayn's soft tongue rubbed on his, the soft sucking of the lips and the warm breath. So vivid and intense, Harry woke up with his briefs dampened.

Of course, he touched himself in the dark in his room. It was too much stimulation to not have it coming on him. Sex, and anything sex-related, had been the last thought on his mind. In jail, he was trying to survive, keeping his mind sane and resisting falling into dangerous paths. He kept to himself both mentally, spiritually and physically. Now, on the outside, trying to get his life together to be a better human, the thought of temptation was impossible to keep at bay. Not when someone like Zayn is walking around him.

He had woken up early, gotten dressed and headed to the kitchen. That's where he had been for the past half hour, having breakfast quietly, hearing the soft hum of the television while Zora cooked breakfast for the rest of the family. The kiss played time and time again. His imagination stretched the moment forward. His eyes, hands travelling down Zayn's shirt and peeling the fabric off his skin. Feeling his warmth, the soft scent of his perfume and his size bumping against him. His imagination filled the rest of his fantasy with moans and movements, that he could see perfectly with his eyes open while looking at that coffee.

"Harry?" Safira's voice called him and he snapped his attention to her. He was disorientated. It took him a moment to understand he was in a kitchen with the scent of eggs and bacon going about. "A word please?"

Immediately, he panicked. Had Zayn complained? Was he going to be fired? Had Zayn accused him of improper conduct or sexual harassment Harry was just an employee and an ex-con who would believe him?

The questions exploded in his brain. Had Zayn not liked it? He walked behind the governess completely terrified of the scenario. Walking into her small office, the woman welcomed him to sit, as she made her way to her chair.

"Is there a problem?" Harry asked, trembling inside.

"Your two-week trial period is almost over and, despite Mrs Malik's appreciation for your work, I'd just like to have a word to see how things are going. Is everything okay? Is there any challenge or something we could help you with?"

Harry's heart rested and he breathed a sigh of relief. He even dared to wipe the sweat off his brow.

"No, not, all," Harry responded softly. "Everything's great. Mrs Malik is a very easy client and the rest of the family treats me nicely."

"Good,"

"Ermm..." Harry shifted in his chair. "Have there been any....complaints? From...I don't know, Mr Malik...?"

Safira tilted her head for a moment and frowned.7

"Not at all. Why? Did something happen?"

"No! No!" He excused himself immediately. "I'm just...asking if...My work has been satisfactory..."

"Don't worry. You're doing great. Both Mr Malik and Mrs Malik are very fond of you." "Safira responded, smiling wide. "I'm so glad you're having a good experience. On another note, Mrs Malik is feeling a bit indisposed today."

"Oh? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, just been a rough week and she needed a moment. She'll be working from home, so you can have the day off."

"Right...But, what if someone needs something?"

What if Zayn wants to see me?

"We have Rob and Jonathan is always one call away. Worry not. Enjoy your first day off."

"Certainly,"

"I assume you'll want to return to London, but please, do leave the car behind since you won't be working," Safira asked. "You can take a cab or Uber and we'll cover the cost."

"Of course," Harry responded. "Thank you."

He got out of her office feeling disoriented. What a cruel fate, to experience such a kiss just to be removed from it.

Walking back to his room, he figured it would do him good some time away from the house. From Zayn. From the kiss and everything that came with it. A day off would be good. He had some things to do in his flat, so it would come in handy that day.

Harry got to his room, taking off his blazer and undoing his shirt. He was ready to change into his regular clothes, pack a small bag and go back to his unkempt flat for the night. He took off his suit, putting on his worn-out jeans, a shirt, his old Chelsea boots and a leather jacket.

"Harry?"

The driver turned and found Camille standing by the door. She wore a pink uniform, with a white apron around the waist and comfortable shoes. Her hair was tied behind her and there was some light makeup on her face. The young maid was quiet and calm. She observed, more than she spoke and was polite.

"Camille. 'Morning."

"Hi. I heard that you're having the day off."

"Yes. Mrs Malik is working from home today."

"Are you heading out to town? I can give you a ride." Camille offered. "I'm going to a doctor's appointment, so I can drop you off wherever."

"Are you sure? I'd hate to be a nuisance."

"Not at all," Camille replied softly. "If you just give twenty minutes to change into something less...well, 'maid', we'll get going."

"Yeah, sure."

"Great," Camille replied with a gigantic smile. "See you outside."

When Harry walked outside of the house, he noticed Zayn's car wasn't there and he was relieved. Or was it sad? He wasn't sure yet. A lot of emotions ran down him.

Perhaps, it would be best not to see him just now, keeping clear of each other's path. That would allow for a clear mind and possible resolution as to where to go now.

The day was particularly cold, so Harry closed his jacket a bit more. He could've gone inside but rather waited under the winter sun. As he paced, his mind travelled to the kiss once again - he couldn't help it. How Zayn breathed into him and panted against his lips. The feeling of having his body on top of him and close to his...

Harry felt he was about to faint with the weight of the memory.

"Hey!" He jumped when Camille's welcoming called him back down. "You okay?"

"Ye-yes. You ready?"

"Sure. I'm parked out back."

The young lady proved to be a true beauty outside of her maid clothes. Harry followed her and tried to keep his eyes on the horizon, not on the curves accentuated by her tight jeans.

Camille walked to a 2015 grey Wolkswaggen and welcomed Harry in. Heading into the car, Harry noticed it still had that new smell straight from the dealership. He also saw the tires were sparkling clean without a scratch. On the inside, the car had little details of usage it seemed as if no one had ever sat in the passenger's seat before.

"Now, a disclaimer," Camille warned, putting on the seatbelt. "I am not an experienced driver."

"I figured. Your car smells new and your tires are still the same ones from the dealership."

"Please, bear with me if I move a little slow or break at everything. I'm finding my pace - I'm French, so we drive on the right side (like the rest of the world) and I have to adapt to the left side here. I know you experienced drivers like to give input on other people's style - my father drives me mad with it."

"Fair enough. I promise I'll behave."

"Good,"

Soon after they were on the road. And Camille's disclaimer was granted: she was a very cautious driver, keeping close to the left shoulder, always using her blinker. She would stop at the entrance of every roundabout, patiently waiting for her window, even if three cars waited behind her.

Unlike many others, she would go to the roundabout correctly, standing on the inside if she was to leave at the other exits. Holding on to the steering wheel with a firm grip, always looking ahead and not daring to do anything that could distract her. The radio played low, while Harry looked out the window, seeing the green winter landscape.

After a moment, Harry turned to Camille.

"So, how long have you been working at the house?"

The young lady smiled. "Oh, two...maybe three years. I came here from France and this was the first job I got. It's not...you know, groundbreaking. I make beds, serve tea, clean and wash, but...It's not that bad."

"I have a feeling it's not what you wanted to be doing."

Camille smiled at him, as she drove patiently on the middle lane. Most of the traffic had gone and the road was clear to drive steadily.

"Don't laugh at me-"

"I would never."

"Well..." She began blushing slightly. "I want to be a model."

"Oh!"

"I knew it. You're judging me already."

"No, no! Never. Why would I?" Harry defended himself. Camille shot him a quick look, before putting her eyes back on the road. "So...have you done any jobs in that area or are you still trying to figure it all out?"

"No, I've walked a few catwalks," Camille responded. "Not the main ones, of course. I did let's say secondary fashion weeks like Lisbon, Prague, and Kyiv...and have shot for a few British brands: All Saints, Baukjen, Boden...Mostly catalogue, you know? But, it's difficult... I haven't had my moment, yet. A shoot that catapults me into the mainstream. Plus without having an agent it's more complicated."

"Why don't you take one?"

"They take 10% off everything I make. It's a small fortune...I had an agent, but...she wanted me to starve myself and take very revealing photos. I wasn't comfortable with that, so I called it quits. I know I can make it without having to take my clothes off, it will just...take a bit more."

"That sounds reasonable. Good for you, standing on your own."

"Yes. Thank you. Oh, that world is brutal and if you're not strong mentally, they will eat you up and spit you back out without a thank you." Camille responded Harry admired her tenacity and strong will to keep focused on her goal. "It will take time, but I know I have it. The girls - the Malik girls, especially Saffaa - have been so kind. They have so many connections in the fashion industry, opening doors for me. Just put me in the room with the right people and it's been working. Whenever I have a casting opportunity or call back they allow me to go...they are truly amazing."

"The family does come through for the staff, huh?"

"They do." Camille smiled. "They do. And they don't have to. Any other household would've sacked me already for even having a dream like this, but not them. You know, my ultimate dream is-"

"Let me stop you right there," Harry interrupted with kindness. "A wise man once told me that, if you have a vision or a dream or wish, to keep it to yourself. The moment you share it, it's no longer yours and it's out into the wind. If you have within you, protected by your own will, then...it'll have more chances to survive. So, I don't want to hear your dream or your wish. I want you to live it."

The young maid smiled again and Harry noticed she had a beautiful profile, with a perfect little nose.

"That's a beautiful philosophy. Who told you that?"

"Some man..."

Harry turned his attention to the window watching the landscape go by. He wondered if Zayn was in a meeting or on a call. Should he call? Was he expecting a call from Harry? Or was silence the best way to go?

The driver turned to the front, noticing that Camille was driving steadily behind this old van that wouldn't go over 60. Being an experienced driver, Harry knew there were only two options: for the van to move or for Camille to move. Judging by the state of the car and how she was driving, Harry figured Camille didn't yet dare to do the overpass.

"He's going rather slow."

"Yeah..."

"Well, you could flash him your lights so he'd move."

"That's a bit of a dick move."

"Yes, but he'd move,"

"I'll just move the left."

"No, no..." Harry contradicted. "The left is for slow pokes and exists. You're not a slow poke and your exit is not anywhere close." The driver looked to his side. "Well, you could go around him to the right. There's no one coming."

"Oh...I don't know..." Camille responded with nervousness. "The outer lane is to go faster."

"And you'll go. Come on. I'm here."

"Harry, I-"

"Camille, you got it. You just need to go to the side, move quicker and then you'll get back into this lane ahead of him."

The young maid took a deep breath, turned on the right blinker and gently swayed the car to the outer lane closer to the edge of the side of the road. She pressed on the pedal making the car reach 70, rolling past the van.

Ahead of the van was another car driving at a similar speed; Seeing they had enough distance from the van for her car to get back in, the young woman flicked the right light signalling her intention...

"Wait, no. Keep going."

"Harry, I'm not sure if you noticed, but I haven't been driving for that long-"

"I figured, but you're doing great here," Harry continued softly. "Besides, you'll be jammed up between the two. Your exit is just ahead. Stay here."

"I'm nervous. I've never been on this side. How am I going to cross to the other side? I'll miss my exit."

"You won't." Harry guaranteed with a steady voice. "There's no one ahead of you."

Harry looked at the young woman who seemed more nervous staying on the 70 mark on her speedometer. The driver looked over his shoulder, then turned to her.

"Listen, I don't mean to stress you out, but there's a car coming up behind us. He's moving fast, pushing at least 100 - he's probably going to be glued to you, putting pressure on you to move and you don't have room in the middle. I suggest you press on a little."

"I...I don't know..."

"Do you trust me, Camille?"

"Should I?"

Harry smiled. "Yes. It'll be okay. Now, I want you to press a bit harder on the pedal and get it to fourth gear." The car roared forward as Camille pressed and the metre went up to 80. "Keep going. He's coming closer and he's a douchebag. He's driving a BMW. We all know that people who drive beemers are wankers."

"They are?"

"They are. Push it." Camille pressed further with the speed going up to 90. She held the wheel with force, keeping steady as she went in a straight line. "Fifth gear. A bit more. Push it."

Camille engaged the fifth, then pressed more and the car went up to 100. It then hit 130 as she flew past the other vehicles. Almost reaching 150.

"My exit is just ahead."

"Go for it." Keeping steady, the Volkswagen glided to the exit left. "Okay, now slow down and retrieve to fourth." Moving her feet, Camille slowed the car pushing the gear from the back to the front. The metre gradually went down as she reduced speed, keeping her hand on the stick and one on the wheel. As the young lady entered the curve, she reduced to third and the car went steadily around the left turn. "Fantastic."

"Oh my God..."

"See, you did great." Harry complimented. "All it takes is pushing yourself a bit more at a time."

"I've been driving for three months, Harry."

"And now you've reached 150 on the motorway and held the wheel with one hand. Congratulations."

Camille let out a giggle as she drove closer to her destination. Harry wouldn't mind being dropped off a little bit further and catching on a cab, but the young woman insisted. So, the car stopped right in front of his building.

As a good driver, Camille parked the car against the curb and turned off the car. She was still flushed from the rush of hitting the speed limit and going above.

"This is me. Thank you."

"No problem," Camille replied with a full smile. "Hey, listen...I know...I know that you have some trouble sleeping and that you...you go on walks at night..."

"How...How do you know that?"

"Your room is across from mine. I can hear you coming and going." Harry wondered what else she had heard. Had she heard him moan Zayn's name in the dark as he wanked himself. "Anyway, it's getting colder outside, so if you're ever having a hard time sleeping, just knock on my door and we'll have some tea. I'm usually up around that time, I'm an avid reader, so...just knock."

"I will."

Harry reached over and landed a kiss on her cheek. Camille went red in the face, as Harry exited her vehicle and waved.

Soon after, Harry watched her roll out of the front of his building. She was a sweet girl and hoped she'd be lucky following her dream.

****

The driver dove into his pockets, finding his key and, as he crossed the road something caught his eye.

Parked in front of his building was an all-white moving van. It could've been any other van, after all, there are many like that in London and its surroundings. However, Harry knew this van was different from others. As he approached his building, Harry identified the driver scrolling on his phone.

Immediately, he was angry.

Harry marched over to the window and knocked. The driver jumped out of fright and when he saw Harry, his brown eyes went twice as big.

Inside the van, Nick rolled down the window and showed a weak smile. "Harry-"

"What the fuck are you doing here, Nick?"

"I-I-...well...we're just...you know...stuff..."

" Stuff?" Harry repeated with a frown. "Why are you with the van?"

As if he hadn't noticed he was driving the van, Nick looked around and acted surprised.

"Oh? This? It's just...It's you know...we're working on something-"

"On what?" Harry searched the premises, unsure of what he'd find. His heart skipped a beat when he peeked at a familiar grey Aston Martin DBX parked not far from the van."Is Louis here?"

"Louis?" Nick repeated like a parrot. Harry shot him a death glare, which made him stutter even more. "I mean-"

"For fucks sake..."

"Harry, wait..." Nick jumped out of the van, following Harry who was making his way into the building. "Harry, hang on-"

"Go back to the van, Nick!"

"Yes, sir-"

Harry marched into the building slamming the door behind him. As soon as he entered, he heard familiar voices, people talking and their sounds echoing down. Going up the steps two by two, it didn't take him long to reach the fourth floor. He found the door to his flat opened with commotion happening inside. Ever so cautious, Harry wandered in.

This was not what his old flat looked like the last time had been there.

It looked completely different. There was an entire construction team furnishing the space. It smelled of fresh paint and diluent, the windows were wide open and there were plastic sheets everywhere.

Everything was brand new. His old, decrepit and empty flat was no longer what it was. This was a new space with expensive furniture, state-of-the-art utensils and new paint.

"What the"

"Hazzah!" Louis shouted coming into the living. "Oh! You like it?"

"Louis, what-"

"Oh, I'll explain," Louis added with a wide smile. "Welcome to your new place. I mean, it's the old place, but with a new face. This is my way of apologising for Xander's dickead behaviour - I sent him home. He's off. Come on, let me show you." Louis wrapped his arm around Harry's neck, pulling him closer. "You've got new floorboards, everything's painted fresh, new furniture...Look at that TV. 65-inch smart tv with full HD and all the channels you could want! Of course, we could've gone bigger, but I know you're not a TV lad...but hey...it looks class, doesn't it?"

'And here! I got you a new shelf for your books and vinyl and artsy shit. You know...all pretty. The bedroom has a new comfy bed and soft carpet." Louis picked up a brand-new guitar. "New strings!"

"What happened to the old one I had?"

"Chuked it." He responded. "It was a piece of trash with five strings."

"Louis-"

"Hang on! The kitchen, mate. Oh! That kitchen." Louis pulled Harry over to the kitchen. It was white before, but now it is all metallic with all home appliances embedded on the wall. "Look at the beauty of a kitchen, mate. I know you like to cook and shit, so you get everything new. Sparkling new, mate! What do you think, eh?"

Harry felt sick to his stomach.

"I want you out, Louis." The boss's face faltered for a moment. "Get out."

"What?"

Harry scurried away from Louis's embrace, walking back into the living room.

"All of you out. All of you. " The room stopped as the workers froze at his voice. "Every last one of you fucking out of my flat! I don't want any of you here! I didn't ask for any of this."

"Mate, it's a surprise-"

"Fuck your surprise, Lou." Harry snapped back. "I told you, I don't work for you. I have nothing to do with you. This is you seducing me back - I saw the car downstairs. My car. I saw it and, before you offer, I do not want it. I don't want any of it. So, all of you, get the fuck out ."

The room stood still. No one dared to take a step. The look on Louis's face hardened, with his eyes becoming darker and his jawline clenching with anger.

"Have I made myself clear? Out!"

"Oh, they heard you, Harry. Except, I'm the boss here. Not you." Another second passed by, and Louis glared back at Harry from across the room. "Everybody out."

Immediately, the crew gained life and walked out of Harry's flat like an army. It was nothing, but silence between them.

"I was trying to do something nice, Harry."

"I don't want anything nice from you, Louis."

"Oh, I got that. I just figured a little more appreciation for helping you out would've been nice."

"Are you serious-?"

"Stop your crying, Harry. You did your time and you're out. You're important to me, to us..." Louis came closer to his friend. "The move I'm planning...You'd be perfect for it. I'd love to have you at my side on this new venture-"

"No!" Hatty argued. "If it had been the other way around, I would have been at the bottom of the Thames. If I dared to betray you as you did to me, I would've been dead."

The boss walked over to Harry, standing close to him. Even though Louis was slightly shorter than Harry, the two stood equally tall in intensity.

"I did what I needed to do to protect my organisation. I needed someone to take the fall-"

"But not Xander."

"Not without taking all of us with him and you were fine! I got you everything!"

"Unbelievable-"

"Believe me, Harry. You want to get over it." Louis bombed again. "I have something brewing. I'd love to have you at my side. But if you don't want it, I won't force it out of you...But I won't take you being in my path either."

"Again, I don't want it. Any of it."

Louis seemed to understand his answer, losing all hope of getting his friend and partner back. The boss looked back at the apartment, still far away from being finished; Then, grabbed the keys and dropped them at Harry's feet. The boss gave Harry a push with his shoulder as he walked back, then slammed the door behind him.

Louis came down the steps stomping out of the building. He was fuming about Harry's behaviour.

Why wouldn't Harry understand that all he had done was for the greater good? If Xander, even though he was as guilty as sin, had fallen they would've all gone to jail and gotten double the time. His empire would've been lost. All that he had worked so hard to achieve would've been gone. It had been a difficult decision but needed to be done.

The boss stopped at the last step of the stairwell looking out into the street. If Harry decided to remain on the outside...then let him be on the outside. He would be treated as a civilian, as a casualty if it came to that. All doors were locked. All-access denied.

The boss came out of the building, pulling the door so hard it slammed against the wall.

"Everything okay, boss?" Nick asked but got no reply.

The boss walked right past him, heading towards Liam who had arrived shortly before and waited by the Panamera.

"I'm guessing he didn't like it-"

"Fucking idiot."

"Maybe it's time to let go of him," Liam added carefully. "You can't force someone to get back into the game. If he doesn't want to play...then, he will be missed."

Louis pinched his nose, focusing on the moment ahead.

"You're right," Louis added. "If he's out, then he's out."

"Good. Also, I do have good news." Liam fished the black flip phone and expressed a smile. "We've been summoned, my friend."

Louis's entire demeanour changed. Where once was anger towards Harry, now there was this hopeful and excitement on his face. Nothing else mattered.

The moment was here. The moment was now! The sword was about to drop. Louis grabbed the phone, opening and checking the last text.

Unknown number:

Meet me at Innov.

Bring your best suit.

When he stared back at Liam, the boss had his game face on and was ready to move. Liam waited while his mind fired a million thoughts.

"You ready, Tommo?"

"Fuck yeah," With Harry being out of the picture, Louis needed to arrange a few pieces and Liam seemed the best option. "Listen, it's you and me now. Fuck Harry."

Liam pondered for a moment, understanding his boss's request.

"What about The Velvet and the girls?"

"Someone else will have to manage The Velvet and, as for your girls, maybe...find someone else to cover for you. We need to be squeaky clean, Payno. Nothing on the side."

"But, I love my girls."

"I know. I love them too, but you can't have hookers and be corporate."

"Can't I?" Louis rolled his eyes at his comment and the Sargent agreed. "Alright, I get my shit organised. I feel important."

"Take that crew, pay them," Louis ordered, with his mind focused on something else. "Go to the club, business as always. Don't call me; I'll get back to you."

"Yes, sir."

Louis looked at Liam, then wrapped his hand around the back of his neck and pulled their foreheads together.

"This is huge, brother." Louis insisted with a firm grip. "We are about to do something big. Reach another market. Take the world by storm."

"All you, Lou." Liam retorted with confidence. "All you."

The two hugged it out, padding each other in the back. Then, Liam fished his keys out of his pocket and handed them over to Louis.

"You have to show up and show out."

Louis grabbed the keys and sneered. "Show those blue-collared fucks we can go just as high as them."

"Yes, sir."

With the key in hand, Louis walked to the other side of the car.

"Oh, by the way..." He added, with one hand on the door. "I don't want to see that Aston again. Harry doesn't want it. You can torch it."

"Don't you want to sell it?"

Louis looked at the beautiful car, then back at Harry's flat.

"Harry is a civilian. He doesn't deserve that car. Torch it."

Seconds later, the boss rolled out in the Panamera with the engine roaring down the street.

Liam whistled, "Nicko!" And patiently waited for the soldier to run down to him.

"Yes, boss?"

"Don't call me boss. Louis is the boss, understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Liam grabbed a roll of money and handed it over to Nick.

"Pay the workers, then send the Aston to the junkyard."

"Oh? Really?"

"Problem?"

"No, no...it's just that...The Aston is so...cool. Can't I keep it?"

Liam tilted his head to the side, with a light frown. "You want to drive that?"

"Ye-Yes. I mean...it's a nice car..."

The second in command got into Nick's space, looking at him right in the eye.

"Here's the thing, love. The boss said he didn't want to see that car again. If he catches you rolling around with that particular Aston, he will torch it with you inside without batting an eye. Now, do you want to test the theory or do you want to live to see another day?"

Nick blinked for a moment, before turning his heels and heading back to the moving van where the construction workers stood waiting for payment.

Liam didn't want to ride the van - he wouldn't be caught dead in it - and he was not a fan of cabs or Ubers, so he did the next best thing. He knew some girl at the club lived nearby and it was early in the morning; he could use some late breakfast and a morning head. Opening his phone, he scrolled down randomly and pressed the first name that came to his mind. "Morning, Violet."

"Hi," She replied lazily. "You woke me up."

"Oh, I'm sorry, flower. Listen, I'm just around the corner. Was thinking about giving you a morning kiss."

The woman on the other side giggled.

"Come on over."

****

The crew left his flat a mess. Harry stood in the middle of a hurricane of tools, paint, dust and trash unable to know where to turn. The driver kicked a piece of trash out of the way, then took a deep breath in. Patience and calm. That's what he needed to practise. He wasn't that Harry anymore. He was calm Harry.

The driver crouched down and began picking up the tools left behind by the crew. One by one, he put them by the door without a clear destination. He had no idea what he'd do with all of that. With all the plastic and buckets of paint in the corner. What could he do?

Perhaps toss them or send them back to the club?

To be determined.

After gathering all the uncalled items and looking at the unkept flat, he felt discouraged. Might as well, just leave it as it was and go back to the mansion.

As he stood in the middle of the living, he understood that it couldn't possibly be a job for one man or alone one day. Not that he had any plans, anyway - but spending his day off cleaning something he hadn't even done, annoyed him.

Absent-mindedly, he grabbed the phone that rang in his pocket, without looking at the screen.

"Yes?"

"Hi,"

When he heard Zayn's voice, all his worries dissipated. It was like suddenly, he was a reality again. The kiss was a reality.

"Hello,"

"Sorry, am I bothering you?"

"No, not at all..." Harry responded, wandering about the flat. "Just...caught me off guard, wasn't expecting your call..."

"Yes. I feel I need to speak to you."

"Didn't see you this morning,"

"No, I...I had an early start...Couldn't quite sleep." Zayn confessed. Harry wanted to add that he too didn't have that many hours of sleep. Instead, he kept quiet, allowing his boss and kissing partner to continue. "I know talking on the phone after what happened is a bit...disconnected but, I couldn't find another way to talk to you. It's better than not...mentioning it at all..."

The driver smiled sensing Zayn's shyness from the other side.

"It's okay-"

"No, I...I just don't want you to think that I was...harassing you or misbehaving with you-"

"I know."

"I was drunk and in my feelings...A line was crossed and I shouldn't have crossed it."

"I understand."

"I hope you don't think that I have a habit of having...you know, these moments with people who I work with. I promise you I am not a pervert. And I do hope you don't...turn in your resignation because of it."

The driver sat on his sofa, leaning back against the comfortable cushions.

"Not at all. Wouldn't dream of it," He responded softly. "If it makes you feel better...it was a...very nice...moment. I enjoyed it very much and I don't blame it on you having a little more to drink. It was... pleasurable."

There was a moment of silence from the other side. Harry could hear Zayn's breathing through the phone, taking the compliment.

"Zayn?"

"Yes?"

"You okay?"

"I'm thinking..."

"About?"

Another pause.

A long one.

Harry knew what Zayn was thinking about because he was thinking about it too. An image flashed across his mind, of the moment, with Zayn sitting on his lap and cupping his face with tenderness while drowning him in an intense kiss.

"So... " Zayn cut through the air, coming back to reality. "Day off. What are you up to?"

Harry smiled at the idea that his boss was trying to know what he was up to on his day off.

"Currently, I'm mapping out how to clean my flat after a...somewhat, surprise."

"Oh? What happened?"

Harry looked around and told half the story. "Someone broke in and made a mess."

"Did they steal anything?"

His eyes scanned the living room seeing all the new furniture and winced.

"Not really." He commented, staring at his reflection in the massive TV. "Just a lot of cleaning."

"How...How can I help?"

"Get me a cleaning team..." Harry joked. "Like those on TV? A proper crew, so I can sit back and boss them around."

Zayn thought about it for a moment, "Okay,"

"No, I'm joking." He responded with a smile. "I've got it. It will just be a lot of sweeping and mopping. There's dust everywhere, tools were left behind...it's just...A lot of work, but I can manage. It will be therapeutic in a way."

"Sure,"

Another pause in their conversation and Harry wanted to melt into that sofa. The young driver pressed his knees together and tried his best to stay composed. Zayn was his boss after all.

"I won't keep you..." Harry replied. "I'm sure you're busy."

"A little. Heading to an unexpected meeting in a bit."

"Unexpected as in good or bad?"

"Coming from Jeff Azoff? To be determined."

"Best of luck, then."

"Thank you,"

"Hey..." Harry called, sitting up. "Don't tire yourself. I'm not there to drive you and keep guard if you sleep in the car."

"When... " Zayn cleared his throat, treading carefully. "Are you coming back tomorrow morning?"

"Yes," He responded softly. "Why?"

"Nothing...I'm just...wondering..."

"Tomorrow morning."

"Yes," Zayn repeated. "I must run. See you then."

"Thank you..." Harry added. "For calling and trust me, everything is fine. No hard feelings or...confusion on my end."

"Good. That's...good. Bye."

The call ended and Harry noticed the little butterflies inside his stomach flapping their wings. Was he blushing? Possibly.

The short conversation gave him the motivation he needed to begin the arduous process of cleaning. Now, he had a completely new flat and he couldn't turn it down - there was no reversing this. So, might as well clean it up and make it his own.

He got to work cleaning the best he could, but there wasn't a structure or a plan - his mind was everywhere. He'd start here, then notice something over there and move to clean it, forgetting the first point. So, when he would return there would still be things to clean. The more he looked, the more things he'd find. It was a game of insanity and he was getting frustrated as the hour rolled by.

The bell rang and Harry went to the door to open it. On the other side, he found a woman with a welcoming smile and a white uniform, followed by five other women.

"Yes?"

"Hello, dear. Are you Harry Styles, by any chance?"

Harry's eyes went from the first woman to the other five who smiled the same way.

"Yes? Who are you?"

"We are the Cleaning Fairies," Harry then noticed that their uniform had a logo over the heart of a fairy carrying a bucket and a mop. "We received a request from one..." The woman fished the request sheet from behind her back. "Zayn Malik, to come here and help you with cleaning."

Harry scoffed "You're joking."

"Not at all," The woman responded with a smile. "We're ready for you."

And they were. They had buckets full of cleaning supplies, trash bags, cleaning rags, mops and brooms. Ready to go. So, Harry stepped to the side and welcomed the fairies into his flat. The women immediately went to work, dividing and conquering. They did not ask questions, just immediately scattered about and began picking up where Harry had missed. They were fairies indeed.

Finding his phone, Harry shot a message to his latest call.

Harry: Thank you.

The fairies are lovely.

However, to his surprise, Zayn did not reply.

Harry figured he was too busy in the meeting with Jeff Azoff to answer his silly little thank-you text. Instead, he focused on helping the fairies around to clean his flat the best way he knew how.

****

The task of leaving the flat presentable took over two hours and, by the end of it, it smelled of pine. They even lit a few candles to help the mood. Sure, it wasn't Harry's flat as it was, but it looked better.

When all was done he thanked the fairies and left them a generous tip - even though they didn't require it.

"Mr Malik has been helping our organisation for years," the woman responded with a smile. "We always help whenever he asks."

They left the apartment and Harry closed the door shortly after. The driver turned to his phone again. He caught no reply for Zayn and thought maybe he had crossed a line somehow by replying in such a manner.

So, instead, he kept to himself. He ordered some food and read a good book on his sofa, enjoying the rest of the afternoon off. He did so quietly on his brand-new comfortable sofa, which was better than his leather one.

He was dozing off, snoring lightly, with the book in his chest when a knock on the door slapped him awake.

Rubbing his eyes, he looked at the clock, seeing it was the middle of the afternoon. He wasn't waiting for any guests, so curiously, Harry marched over to the door.

Opening it, he was shocked.

Zayn looked like he had seen a ghost.

"Zayn? What-"

"Can we go for a ride?"

"Erm...Yeah. Sure." Harry noticed that Zayn seemed upset and nervous about something. "Is everything okay?"

"No," Zayn responded. "Can we go?"

"Sure. Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere," He seemed so confused and lost. Perhaps on the verge of tears and genuinely afraid of something. "Anywhere. Just get me out of this city. Away. Far. Now. I need to go away with you now."

"Okay. Okay." Harry responded, calming him down. "We'll go. I know a place."

Chapter Text

Earlier that morning, 

Zayn signed the last contract termination on the dotted line and handed them all to Helena, the head of HR. She had compiled a group of workers who were closer to retirement, with about three or five years to go, alongside workers who had underperformed in their mid-year review and workers who had too many strikes on their performance.

Those were the first batch to go. It wasn’t even close to enough; after all with settlements, it was still money that would be allocated out of the company. Most likely, they would have to move over to the factories, after cleaning up the headquarters and then to the other offices around the United Kingdom. Then, they would focus on the international offices. 

It hurt Zayn. It hurt signing those leaver sheets and saying goodbye to people who, even if they had joined the company a month ago or twenty years ago, were important for Innov to continue. He hated doing this. He hated being this man. He tried hard not to focus on the implication this would have on their families, difficulties and stress. If he focused on that, he’d lose his mind. 

The issue with the money leak remained a secret and it would stay like that. It did not leave the boardroom level. To the outsiders, the company was going through a hard time, just like any other company in this day and age. And, despite it being a done issue, it was still a question of who, why and from where did they the leak was. How could it go, undetected for five years? Was it really undetected or just allowed to happen? 

Zayn couldn’t even begin to answer these questions without fearing the answer. He wouldn’t dare to think that it was nothing more than just something that happened to this company. It could’ve happened anywhere, but it happened at Innov. It is what it is. 

“I want to do something.” He announced, giving back the contracts to Helena. “Give the people who are leaving something more. Not a check or a settlement or reference letter…something… meaningful .”

“I’ll think of something and I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you.”  

“Of course,” Helena replied. “You should talk to those who stay, though. It would be nice for them to hear from you and to calm those who might be more nervous about the upcoming months. A last-minute town hall.”

“I will,”

“Okay, I’ll get everything set up.”

“Thank you.”

Helena left Zayn's office leaving him alone with a burden too heavy to carry by himself. In the quietness of his office, he got up and walked around a bit, stretching his legs after a rough morning. 

Was he good enough to steer this massive ship in a good direction into the future? How would he know what good choices to make? Where to go? If they should go anywhere? Questions that plagued his mind and made him uneasy. He had big shoes to fill under his father who had done his best. Now, here he was trying to solve a problem too big for him to fight by himself. 

However, despite the heavy iceberg ahead, he wouldn’t give up. He’d do his best. Respond in the best way possible. He wouldn’t give up or succumb to his inner saboteur. He might be crumbling inside, but on the outside, he’d hold firm. 

A soft knock on his door brought him back from his funk and welcomed the visitor thinking it was Niall. To his surprise, when the door opened he saw someone he hadn't seen in ages. One of his older sisters. 

“Doniya?”

The woman smiled at him, entering the office. Doniya lived abroad for a long time now, after a lot of arguments and going toe to toe with their father, the oldest daughter decided that staying away from the family was the best for her mental state. For the past five years, she had moved from Italy to Paris, to Istanbul and was now back in London. 

To say there was always competition between the two was an understatement: Doni was the oldest, but she was also a woman, which led her to always be second in comparison to Zayn. Even though she had better grades, loved the company more than Zayn and spent more days studying it than she did. If anyone wanted the Chair more, and if there was anyone that Zayn would gladly give it to, it would be his sister. 

“Hey, Zed.”

Their relationship was cordial. They weren’t as close as they used to be when they were children, due to…favouritism, of course. But, there was love there. Doni was there when Zayn had his car accident a few months back, holding his hand and taking care of things. Zayn stood by her side when she decided to leave the family’s embrace to start a business abroad. 

They hugged closely and Zayn felt relieved to see her familiar face. 

“What brings you to London?”

“Oh, things…” Doniya commented, walking to her chair. “I heard there have been major changes in here. Congrats on your position, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Zayn sat behind his desk. “It hasn’t been easy.”

“I believe you. This is a monstrous company.” Doniya added. “I would know.”

Zayn sat back in his chair understanding the feelings his sister was trying to convey. 

“I know you feel you should’ve been the one here.”

“I don’t feel anything. Mum and the board chose you.” Doniya responded with a hint of bitterness that she tried to dismiss by focusing on her pants. “And I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“You would be better than me.”

“Oh, no doubt.” She added, unable to control a sigh of frustration. “But, I’m sure you’re great.”

“I didn’t want this, Doni,” Zayn confessed, leaning forward. “I never wanted this. You should be here-”

“Zayn, let’s not,” Doni begged. “It’s done. You’re the Chair. I’m not even a voice in the room - that’s fine. I should maybe do like Wali and Saffaa, and focus on helping…the community. It’s rewarding, they say.”

“You could’ve come to the meeting.”

“I was not given the opportunity for it, Zed,” Doni responded. “Mum just…said she had it. If she says she has it, then momma Malik has it. ”

Zayn knew that his sister wanted to be there, in charge and command. Frankly, he wasn’t opposed to it. He’d gladly step down and remove himself from all of these troubles. He would gladly return to his little team, doing small projects. However, he knew better than to poke at his sister’s pride. Doni was obstinate, stubborn and driven, but she would never beg. She would never ask more than once. She would find her way, one way or the other, like water breaking through the stone. 

“Mum told me. About the money leak…”

“Yes, we managed to have it under control.”

Doniya looked around the room, taking in the sheer size of it, now that Zayn was in charge.

“Five years, huh?” Doni asked, shaking her head. “It's a long time to go undetected.”

“It was a lot of money.”

“You think someone knew?”

“I rather not think about it, but it would be foolish of me to not suspect some level of knowledge.”

“Someone on the inside, then.”

“Probably.”

“Did you catch the culprit or have any idea?”

“No,” Zayn responded. “They were smart. Unsure we ever will.”

“Hm…” The woman commented. “They were looking to do damage.”

“And they did. We’re barely standing.”

“Shaking, but standing still,” Doniya commented with a light smirk. Her mind seemed distant, as she looked out the window. Then, she turned to Zayn, snapping back to the moment. “Is Jeff around?”

“Azoff?”

“Yes.”

Zayn tilted his head slightly “Don’t know. Why do you need him?”

“Just to talk…” Doniya responded with a smile. “I’ve been getting a lot of advice from him. Business perspective, you know.”

“I had no idea you two were so close.”

“We’ve become closer, yes.” She responded. “Nothing insidious, of course. He’s very respectful. But you know, he’s a shark, he has vision…I’d be a fool not to have him…as a mentor, of some sort. These…past five years, he’s been helping me a lot.”

That entire sentence made Zayn suspicious. He knew that Doni loved the company and breathed its DNA. But to a point of looking for Jeff and having him as a mentor. It was…curious. He wanted to know more, but as soon as he opened his mouth the sister stood up. 

“I’ll go look for him,” She commented, grabbing her bag. “Nice office, by the way.”

“It was dad’s.”

“I know,” She responded. “I chose the chair you’re sitting on.”

Again, Zayn’s sixth sense came into play. It had been five years since he last saw Doniya after her abrupt departure from the family. Now, she’s back looking for Jeff, someone who no longer has an active role within the company. 

It looked harmless. It was a fair connection. And a fair justification. 

Then why was it bothering him so much?

In his computer was Niall’s latest report of the finances, but Zayn couldn’t look at it. His eyes wandered beyond the numbers and the spreadsheets. Beyond the predictions and lines. 

He thought about Harry.

He had tried to keep the image of him at bay for most of the day, focusing on his work and trucking on with his mission. But now the morning was quiet. Without calls, meetings or emails to read, the memory burst through him with a kick. His mind took wings, taking him to a moment he hadn’t been aware had left such an imprint on him. 

The realisation hit him hard. After all, he had enjoyed the kiss. 

He wanted more.

Those soft lips on him, how he had surrendered completely to Zayn’s power. He wanted Harry on his knees, moaning for him and scratching his back. His hot breath on his lips and his name rolled out of his tongue like a beautiful spell. 

Zayn wanted deeper and harder. 

The image of Harry had been with him all night, in the oddest scenarios, but all of them were so intense. He had never kissed like that or had been kissed in such a manner. ZHe pressed his knees together and clenched his fists. 

He remembered the feeling of grasping at Harry’s curls with a full hand, having his face looking up at him with those closed eyes, and how he responded to his lips. Zayn wondered what he would be doing today. With his mother staying home after yesterday’s meeting, Harry was free to do with his time as he pleased. Perhaps sleeping in? Take care of personal affairs? 

Another flash question popped into Zayn’s mind: Why did he care? He shouldn’t care about anyone else, not when his legacy was on the brim of nonexistence. There shouldn’t be any other issue right now than to save his business. He didn’t have time to lust for another or, God forbid, fall madly in love. 

And yet, the kiss was still vivid. 

The duality of his soul going into battle with what he should do and what he wanted to do.

It was just a kiss! A kiss. A thing of the moment…

An intense moment.

A delicious moment. 

He hoped Harry wouldn’t resign or file a complaint of some sort against him. Zayn had crossed a line and, given what he had shared on that walk of having an affair with Ben while he was a driver, it wasn’t the best image. 

Those lips. 

Those soft, pink lips…breathing against him. Those arms pulled him closer and felt all of him.  Zayn’s fingers brushed his lips as he closed his eyes, travelling back in time and wishing he could do it all over again. 

He needed to talk to Harry. To make things right. Zayn didn’t want Harry to think of him as some sort of pervert, with bad habits or to think he was taken advantage of. 

He went to look for his phone when his eyes caught Jeff standing by his door. 

“‘Morning,”

“Jeff. Morning.”

“Sorry, to barge in. Denise is not at her desk, so I just…took the liberty.”

Zayn blinked repeatedly trying to focus on the moment and not on whatever was happening in his pants. He decided it was best to stay seated. Jeff’s presence acted like a cold shower on him. 

“I won’t take much of your time. I was just hoping that you could take a moment, after your town hall later today, to meet someone.”

“Who?”

“Remember the supplier, I told you about…” Jeff reminded him. “Yeah, he’s going to pop in a minute. We have worked together on a couple of ventures. I’ve helped him with licensing one of his establishments and he’s…provided for me as well. A possible partner. Just…a conversation.”

Zayn watched Jeff closely. So here was the moment he would have to pay. He couldn’t argue, either. It had been a deal and Zayn would always hold up his end - even if it killed him. 

“No harm in a conversation.”

“Precisely,” The former COO responded with a smile and calm nature. “I’ve booked an office on the lower floor. We can meet there.”

Jeff turned to walk out of his office when a curious comment came to Zayn’s mind. 

“My sister’s here.” Jeff paused for a moment, then turned around with high eyebrows. “Doniya.”

“Oh?” 

Curiously, Jeff didn’t even seem that surprised. 

“No idea you two were so close.”

“If you call being business partners close, then yes…we are. We have become as I helped her grow into her business. She’s a very smart woman and…has to vision.”

“So, I’ve heard. With what?”

“What?”

“What did you help her with?”

“Just…licensing, a bit of an investment push and some connections. She also knows this friend that you’re meeting today.”

“Oh? She does?”

“Yeah. We’re all coming together to help.” Jeff responded. "He owns this club downtown. The Velvet. Your sister loved to go there.”

“Never been there.”

“It’s cool. We should go some time."

“Sure…”

The former COO headed out of the office but stopped mid-stride He then turned to Zayn.

 “I feel… great things are coming around the corner. I’m not a spiritual guy, myself…but, I don’t know…I think you’re a smart young man, who can see the road ahead, now that it is clear. I think you will make smart decisions. You will surprise us.”

Unsure of what to say in response, Zayn mumbled out a “thank you” and watched as Jeff left his office.

Suddenly, he was very unsure of this meeting person. 

****

With a microphone in hand and about two hundred people in front of him, Zayn took a deep breath. All of his workers waited patiently for his address. He watched every single one of them with nothing coming up; no words were enough to explain what was going on inside his head. 

He cleared his throat for a moment, putting the microphone in front of his lips: 

“Hi, all. Thank you for meeting me here. I know it’s…unusual, but I believe the moment calls for it. Many of you have known me since I was a boy, running up and down these halls, barging into meetings and wreaking havoc.” Zayn remembered and saw in some faces a familiar smile. “The company is going through a tough time at the moment. We had to make some hard decisions…none of them was taken lightly. If you know me, or my family, you know that we value everyone one of you. Your families. We care. We are not heartless, so believe me…the moments until the decision was made, and even standing here talking to you, it’s…difficult. I know…some of your colleagues were let go this morning. And, if I’m being honest, we might have to let go some more across the country and even in the world. But, I guarantee you, none of them will be left abandoned or tossed out like…some old thing. No. That’s not who we are.”

“Moving forward, we are going to be fewer people, but we will work harder still. Focusing on the quality of our product and continuing to be leaders in our field. We reduced and focused, so we can grow again shortly. That’s what makes us great. And I count on every one of you to continue this journey ahead. Thank you.”

A round of applause echoed and Zayn handed the microphone to Denise, who put it away. He was approached by a few workers who came to talk. Zayn thought they’d argue or cuss him out, but many of them understood his reasoning. Many of them knew him well and were aware that the toll was weighing heavily on him. 

Perhaps his internal battle had been obvious. Zayn was surprised by the level of empathy he received from most of them. He spoke to everyone who came his way, guaranteeing they wouldn’t be forgotten or mistreated. He wanted everyone to know how he felt and how dedicated he was to this business. 

He noticed Doniya and Jeff speaking casually in the background of the auditorium. She seemed serious and he was trying to appease her. In the end, the sister walked away and Jeff wiped the sweat off his brow. 

Zayn chose not to linger on it for too long. Some things were just coincidences. It had to be.

Being showered with this level of understanding and empathy, gave him new energy. He felt welcomed and reassured of who he was, where to go and how to do what needed to be done. He wasn’t alone. He was welcomed. It was a hazardous task, but he was capable of doing it. 

He abandoned the conference room, taking a moment for himself as everyone got back to work using the elevator or the stairs. Without thinking properly, he grabbed his phone and instantly found Harry’s number. Not giving too much space for his brain to stop him, he dialled and when he heard, 

“Hi,” 

He tried to sound cool and collected. The truth is he was trembling from head to toe. He entered an empty room, closing the door behind him. 

“Hello,”

Harry sounded surprised by his call and immediately Zayn realised that he was the boss calling his employee on his phone during his day off. 

“Sorry, am I bothering you?”

“No, not at all …” Harry sounded genuine, appeasing Zayn’s anxiety. “ Just…caught me off guard, wasn’t expecting your call…”

“Yes. I feel I need to speak to you.”

“Didn’t see you this morning,”

Zayn wandered to the closest window, looking into the landscape. So Harry was hoping to see him. That made him feel good. All warm inside. 

“No, I…I had an early start…Couldn’t quite sleep.”  The image of that kiss coming to him in the quietness of this empty office. “I know talking on the phone after what happened is a bit…disconnected but, I couldn’t find another way to talk to you. It’s better than not…mentioning it at all…”

He wondered if he was sounding too insecure and nervous. He had just spoken to an auditorium of 200 people, without breaking a sweat and now, here his heart was banging against his chest. 

“It’s okay-”

“No, I…” Again he paused as the words jumbled in his brain. “I just don’t want you to think that I was…harassing you or misbehaving with you-”

“I know.”

“I was drunk and in my feelings…A line was crossed and I shouldn’t have crossed it.”

“I understand.”

“I hope you don’t think that I have a habit of having…you know, these moments with people who I work with. I promise you I am not a pervert. And I do hope you don’t…turn in your resignation because of it.”

“ Not at all.” Zayn’s heart skipped over a beat, hearing Harry’s softness in his voice. ”Wouldn’t dream of it. If it makes you feel better…it was a…very nice…moment.” Zayn felt his face grow hot.  “ I enjoyed it very much and I don’t blame it on you having a little more to drink. It was…really pleasurable.”

The only thing the young CEO could hear was his breath and the hard thumping of his heart. At that moment, he understood, he wanted to kiss Harry again. He wanted those lips again. Feel his tongue, warmth and embrace on him and even possibly-

“Zayn?”

“Yes?” 

“You okay?”

“I’m thinking…”

“About?”

Your lips. He wanted to reply. Zayn wanted to open the floodgates and jump. This wave of impulsivity rushed over him. The CEO pulled a chair and sat down, with a hand on his forehead to keep him from diving into his impulses. 

“So…Day off. What are you up to?”

“Currently, I’m mapping out how to clean my flat after a…somewhat, surprise.”

“Oh?” He replied with his leg trembling. “What happened?”

“Someone broke into my flat and made a mess.”

“Did they steal anything?”

“Not really. Just a lot of cleaning. ”

“How…” Zayn looked for words. “How can I help?”

“Get me a cleaning team …” Harry joked. Zayn immediately got to his feet. “ Like those on TV? A proper crew, so I can sit back and boss them around.”

“Okay,”

“No, I’m joking.” He responded with a smile. “ I’ve got it. It will just be a lot of sweeping and mopping. There’s dust everywhere, tools were left behind…it’s just…A lot of work, but I can manage. It will be therapeutic in a way.”

“Sure,”

“I won’t keep you…” Harry replied. “I’m sure you’re busy.”

“A little. Heading to an unexpected meeting in a bit.”

“Unexpected as in good or bad?”

“Coming from Jeff Azoff? To be determined.”

“Best of luck, then.”

“Thank you,”

“Hey…” Harry called and Zayn stopped to listen. “ Don’t tire yourself. I’m not there to drive you and keep guard if you sleep in the car.”

“When…” Zayn cleared his throat, treading carefully. “Are you coming back tomorrow morning?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Nothing…I’m just…wondering…”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Yes,” Zayn repeated. “I must run. See you then.”

“ Thank you …” Harry added. “ For calling and trust me, everything is fine. No hard feelings or…confusion on my end.”

“Good. That’s…good. Bye.”

The call ended and Zayn noticed his hands were trembling slightly. He paced from side to side, replaying the conversation in his head. It was good! 

It was a good conversation, right  

He could feel excited, right  

It was…nice. This feeling was nice. 

An idea popped into his mind and instantly grabbed his phone again. 

“ Yes, my liege?”

“Do we have Harry’s home address?”  

“ I believe so…” D Denise replied. “ Why?”

“Remember that small project we donated to last year? The cleaning one that helps older women and gives them a job?”

“Oh, the…Cleaning Fairies?”

“Yes,” Zayn responded with a smile. “Can we send them to Harry’s flat?”

Denise paused for a moment. “ Why ?”

“Someone made a mess and he’s all by himself cleaning. Sounded like a big job for one person,” Zayn explained. “Give them the address, tell them to go there now and to help him out.”

The secretary paused for a moment and then added, “Sure. That’s kind of you. You never did such a thing for me, though.”

“I brought you flowers on my first day as CEO.”

“You did. And when was that? Over a month ago.”

“I’ll order some for you, don’t worry. Now, can we do this for him?”

“Yes, boss… ”

“Oh and…erm…” Zayn cleared his throat again. “Can you text me his address too?”

The pause was longer this time and he knew the secretary was smirking. 

“ Yes, boss.”

“Don’t call me boss. I hate it.”

“Sure thing, boss.” 

Zayn ended the call, feeling very proud of his gesture. Harry would appreciate the gesture and not look at him as a pervert. Instead, as someone who cared for him. 

Soon after he got his address via text. Surprisingly, Harry was close - closer than he thought. Ten minutes or so, if he got all green lights. 

The CEO grabbed the handle of the door, walked out and of the empty office - he headed towards the elevator to reach his floor to do some work. He had a new stride, head high and a smirk on his lips. What a good afternoon it looked to be!

As he walked by one of the meeting rooms, he looked inside and saw a young man sitting on one of the tables playing with a Rubik’cube. Zayn walked past the room but then paused. 

He had never seen that man before. 

Zayn knew everyone in Innov. From a manager, t a cleaning person. He had never seen that face. 

The CEO turned around, heading back to the meeting room. He peeked inside, seeing the man holding the Rubik’s cube. He wore a black suit, with a black shirt and a black tie - all dressed in black. His dark hair was combed back and freshly shaved face. He couldn’t be much older than Zayn. 

“Hello?” 

The man looked at him with raised eyebrows and piercing blue eyes. Zayn noticed the tattoo of the number 28 on his fingers.

“I could never solve these things,” The man turned again to the cube, twisting and turning; the colours moving from side to side, but never matching. “It’s like a lost battle.”

“I think you have to make a white cross on one of the sides and then go from there.”

“Really?” The man inquired turning the cube again. “Never heard that before.”

“Yeah…” Zayn approached the man with curiosity. “Sorry, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you around here before.”

“You haven’t,” The man replied, setting the cube aside. “I’m waiting on a friend.”

“Oh? Well…” Zayn extended his hand. “I’m Zayn Malik. CEO.”

The man took it and gripped it firmly. “I know,” 

“You do?”

The door opened and Jeff appeared, surprising the two. 

“Oh, so you’ve met.” The former COO underlined with a smile. 

“So it seems,” The man added. “Zayn here was trying to tell me how to solve a Rubik’s cube.”

“You start with a cross,” Jeff responded, standing close to them both. “I taught him that.”

“You see, shared knowledge is the real treasure of this world, my friend.”

“I agree…”

“Excuse me,” Zayn interrupted, feeling completely lost in the middle of this interaction. He turned to the man. “I’m not a fan of people knowing me, but me not being aware of them. So, if you don’t mind telling me who you are, I very much appreciate it.”

The unknown man jumped from the table, pocketing his hands and wandering around the room, leaving him without an answer. 

“Zayn, remember me telling you I wanted you to meet someone?” Jeff began with a calming nature. “Well, this is him. Someone I feel will be of great importance to our company and to what we’re trying to build here. That is Louis Tomlinson.”

The name rang inside Zayn’s mind. It was familiar. He had heard it somewhere. Or had he read it somewhere? The man leaned on a window sill and waved at Zayn. 

“Nice to meet ya.”

“Well, Louis here is a man of money and power looking to make a transaction into the pharmaceutical world. He wants to invest in Innov.”

“ Invest ?” Zayn repeated. 

Zayn knew that investing in Innov at such a critical time was a little bit of risk. Why would anyone bet on a sinking ship? 

“Yes, he’s perfectly aware of the conditions of the company, but sees in Innov the perfect company for his ventures,” Jeff announced, to which Louis agreed in silence. “Mr Tomlinson has access to one of our most difficult raw products - the one that will be a challenge to find of good quality and reasonable price. He’s willing to trade it to us for half the price some of our suppliers are offering. Completely natural. Pure. Zero chemicals.”

“The best.” Louis reiterated. 

“What product is this?” Zayn asked. 

“Heroine,” Louis responded with a smirk. 

Then it clicked in Zayn’s mind who Louis was and what was happening there. Zayn had heard Louis’s name before and talked about it in certain circles around the city. It was like the boogeyman - everyone knew, but no one dared to say his name. And here he was, just steps away from Zayn acting like was buying a bag of oranges and not offering to trade pure heroin. 

Many of the pharmaceutical drugs that Innov fabricated used raw materials, such as poppy plants, from which drugs such as heroin came from. All Innov suppliers were legal and well identified by the European Agency, which ruled all pharmaceuticals and medical institutions. The list named suppliers that followed strict guidelines to sell that raw product in dosages used solely for medicine - and nothing more. Going outside of that list of suppliers, opened the door to all sorts of problems and was, obviously, illegal. The suppliers on the list had quality control, safety guides and guidelines they had to adhere to so the raw material could be used properly.

That outside of the list did not follow these rules. 

“A drug dealer?”  

“A businessman,” Jeff corrected. “Like you and me.”

“No, not really!” Zayn responded. “We have a list we have to follow. We’ll follow the list and not go outside of it.”

“The suppliers on the list are still too expensive for us,” Jeff responded. “You said it yourself, we need to change suppliers and I came up with a solution. The product is good, Zayn. They have ties with Russia, Serbia and Morocco, through Spain.” 

“A drug cartel is your solution.”

“Ouch…That is such a romanticised word. No, no, no.” The boss stood up from the window sill with feet apart and hands in pockets. “I’m none of that. We are none of that. We’re a business. With a product to sell, margins and profit. Just like you…If we look at it, we’re essentially twin companies.”

Zayn let out a scoff. He looked at Jeff. Then, at Louis. He scoffed again. 

“Funny. You’re funny, Jeff. I’m leaving now.”

“You don’t want to leave this room, Zayn,” Jeff warned and the CEO stopped by the door. “You owe me, remember? If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have the votes you needed.”

The CEO turned to the older man with a heavy frown on his face. 

“Now, now Jeff…” Louis seduced, “Don’t talk to him like that. I understand he might be upset, it’s a high price to pay and we came right out of the gate with it. Even I would be scared. But, Zayn, I assure you, my intentions are pure.”

“It’s quite simple: Louis here will sell him, let’s say raw product, for half the price of what he usually sells - to us. We can have access to it and from there continue to develop our medication as we have until now. Pretty easy.”

Zayn looked at the two men. “Why do I have a feeling there’s more to it?”

Louis sneered, pointing a shaky finger at Zayn.

 “He’s smart. You’re smart, Zayn. I knew you could see the game ahead. There’s more, of course. When you ship the medication ( in which you used our product) off to whatever countries you ship off to, which is almost worldwide…our raw product will go alongside it. Same container. Hidden somewhere. Blue ribbon for you, Red ribbon for us - for instance. Then, when it reaches the destination our contacts will take it out and then it will go it's merry way. You won’t even notice. And, obviously, a third of what we make…goes back to you.” 

The floor seemed to open under Zayn’s feet and he had no way of turning. Suddenly, all the happiness he had just felt after talking to Harry, had vanished.

Instead of addressing the big elephant dressed in black with a smirk on his lips, he turned to Jeff. 

“How could you do this-?” 

“Let’s skip all of that,” Jeff responded. “We’re not doing that. I did it because it needed to be done. We can’t afford to be picky at all and the deal is good.”

“I’m not being a part of this,” Zayn replied. “I’m not doing this. This is not what my company is all about-”

“Your company-”

“Yes, mine. I’m not doing this. I’m not doing any of this.”

“Little boy, you might think you have the power in this room, but you don’t. Let me make this crystal clear for you: either we do this or you can kiss that seat of yours goodbye. Alongside the 85 million I was set to give to rescue the company. You will lose everything in less than 24h. You can’t afford to be picky. Losing the legacy of a family in a snap of a finger…ouch! Imagine what that sounds like.” 

Louis came forward, with cautious steps, reaching over to Zayn. 

“You and I are virtually the same age, Zayn. So I empathise.” He declared. “You know, I had an old friend, who used to do this. The negotiation type of thing…I was never a fan. He was good, he was. Charming. All smiles. Confidence. People liked him instantly and he had patience. Oh, he was patient with them. Not me, though. I’m not a patient man. I like things how I like them and that’s that…So, let me help you make a decision. Forget what Jeff just said…” 

“Louis, what-” The older man began, but Louis shushed him. 

When Louis spoke he was calm and collected. As if telling a nursery rhyme to a very scared Zayn.

“Forget what he said, focus on me,” Louis repeated. “You can have the heroin cheaper than I usually sell. You can test it anyway, anyhow. It’s yours. Whatever amount you need to keep all of this going, it’s yours. On top of that, I am willing to give you 100. We will use that as an excuse for my presence within the company for legal purposes- I'm a silent investor, how about that? 100 your. Now. ” Louis added. Zayn’s entire world shook faced with such a proposal. “Enough to save your company, buy yourself a couple of cars and a new house, eh? You wouldn’t have to fire anyone, nor declare bankruptcy.’

‘In return, you let me use your distribution network to sell globally, and you make me a member of the board of Administration - without a vote! And…I get to choose the COO.”

Zayn’s stomach dropped to his feet. He wanted to throw up. 

“Why would you want that?”

“Well, I’m not going to be coming into the office every day and sitting behind a desk. I want to go corporate, but I’m not dead. No. My man will be here and he will look after my interests. Besides, we will be shipping stuff, someone needs to keep an eye on it.”

Zayn didn’t know where to turn. What to do. He felt trapped, but most of all…

He was scared.

“Now, unlike Jeff here who wants an answer now, I will give you 24h to think,” Louis responded with a smile. “I know, I said I wasn’t patient, but I’m trying. I have a son. I need to teach him good things. So…24h. Think it over. Sleep on it. We’ll meet tomorrow - Saturday. We’ll go over to that fancy mansion of yours-”

“I don’t want you near my house or my family.”

“What you don’t want… is to make any rash decisions, friend,” Louis whispered. “Think it over. It’s a done deal. We got your back, we have lawyers and people who create paperwork to shield us from anything. Trust me…it’s solid. I’ve been doing this for a while. No one will know and you will come out of it a hero - a cover of magazines calling you businessman of the year. You can have all the fame, friend. I don’t care about that. So…you need to think. Ponder. Weigh in your moral scale. Think carefully, Zayn .”

“Or what?”

Louis touched Zayn on the arm and showed him a typical smirk, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Let’s not think about that. It gives off a bad vibe.” As he walked, he shouted. “Oh! I don’t have to tell you this is a business between the three of us, right? Cheers.”

Then, the boss walked away from the room, leaving the two of them. The young CEO had no idea where to go, who to call or what to do. 

Zayn looked at Jeff, seeing his look of arrogance. The young businessman turned on his heels and walked away. 

“Hang on a minute,” Jeff ordered and Zayn obeyed. The man got up from his seat, walking over to the young heir. “Remember that classic movie of the babysitter who is alone and the serial killer calls from inside the house?” Jeff’s smile was so grand and terrifying that it sent a chill down Zayn’s back. “You should take that premise into consideration; you’d find most of your answers.”

Then, the former COO got up from his seat, padded Zayn on the shoulder and left altogether. 

Time seemed to slow for a moment. Zayn had gone from being excited just a second ago, to having his heart curled up at his feet. He closed his eyes, as a pounding came to his temple. A headache was forming and suddenly he forgot how to breathe. 

What the fuck had just happened?

Zayn didn’t know what to do with the proposition he had just been offered. He was stunned and shocked to think that this type of behaviour had reached him. Something straight out of a movie or a novel. He was completely lost with no one to turn to.

Using the table for support, Zayn tried to gather his thoughts. However, the more he thought, the more confused he got. Closing his eyes, Zayn thought about the proposition over and over again. It didn’t seem like he had that much of an option and he was dreading having to recognize that. 

His head was screaming with pain, transferring down his nose and his neck. He needed to get out of there. Leave that place. Find somewhere he could breathe and think. 

The CEO walked out of the room trying to keep focus. He marched down the hall, walking past the people who had just said kind words to him but refusing to acknowledge them again. 

Instead, he pushed the emergency stairs and went up to his floor. When he got there, he pulled the door open and marched down the hall. Everyone stepped out of his way, just by the way he was walking. Zayn was almost blinded by the headache coming down on him. 

He found Denise and Niall standing by his door and without ceremony demanded.

“I want my car keys,”   

The secretary looked at him with surprise. He was panting, fighting a panic attack and a headache. 

“Are you-?”

“Now!” 

“Hey, now…” Niall declared, calming him down. “Is everything okay? You seem upset.”

“I don’t want to talk, I just want to go,” Zayn complained, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he saw that no one had moved. Nor his secretary. Nor Niall. So, Zayn went to her desk, opened the drawer he knew she kept the keys at and then slammed it shut.

“Zayn, what is going on-?” Niall asked, coming closer to him. 

“Bye,” 

And with that same energy, he marched out of the building. 

He needed to get away and, when he got behind the wheel with a throbbing headache, he drove straight to Harry’s.

Chapter Text

Harry stood at the food truck getting some food. There were two people ahead of him getting their order, but he wasn't paying attention. His eyes were further down in the sand. From where he stood, he could see Zayn sitting down looking at the ocean. When Zayn got to his flat he seemed so upset. All that Harry wanted to do was to calm him down and take him somewhere safe. Somewhere he could breathe again. Reset.

The sun was beginning to come further down the horizon line, dripping onto him the last rays and keeping him warm. The beach was empty, aside from a few people, and the wind blew softly.

Harry remembered getting into the car with Zayn at his side. Without saying a word, he drove about two hours outside of London and headed to the coast. It would be the best place for Zayn to clear his mind and breathe again.

Harry didn't ask any questions and Zayn didn't give information. The two sat side by side, in silence, one looking ahead and the other looking outside the window.

When they got to the destination, Zayn marched ahead to the sand and sat down. Harry let him be. That's where he'd been for the past half an hour, just looking ahead. Harry knew something was bothering him. Something had him disturbed, but he knew - or at least suspected - that Zayn wouldn't open up to him just there. So, he got the next best thing.

Food.

When it was his turn he ordered a hotdog with everything in it and a bottle of water. Food was the best solution whenever someone was feeling in a funk and, he suspected, Zayn needed it.

He held his order, paid, and thanked the man inside the food truck. Harry walked down the boardwalk that led to the beach, treading carefully into the sand to not drop the hotdog. When he got close to Zayn, he saw he was still frowning, with his face closed off.

"Hey..." Harry called, pulling him out of the depth of his thoughts. "Figured you'd be hungry."

"Thank you,"

Harry sat down, handing him over the hot dog and the bottle of water. They sat side by side, enjoying the beauty and the quietness of this little gem of a beach.

To Harry a person like Zayn did not deserve to feel this way - he deserved to be happy, smiling and always adored. Never frowning or panicking as he was two hours ago. Harry didn't want to pry, not cross another line, but he hoped to drive him out of this mental funk.

"Sorry, Harry..." Zayn commented, after finishing his hot dog. "For barging in on you like this on your day off. So rude of me."

"It's fine," Harry responded, never losing his smile. "I got that you needed to get out of town."

"Yeah..." Zayn responded, looking ahead into the horizon. He twisted the bottle of water in his hand, making the plastic shriek in despair. "I needed to get out."

They sat in silence, listening to the waves crash into the sand ahead of them. Harry looked at Zayn seeing that his mind was somewhere else. The driver nudged him on the side.

"Can I challenge you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed. "I want to challenge you to forget whatever happened back in London and to be in this moment with me. Enjoying the sunset, the beach, the weather...Escape for a while."

Zayn let out a sigh, looking ahead. "I'm not sure I can."

"Sure, you can. Hey, look at me..." Zayn turned to him, and Harry noticed the colour of honey in his eyes, brought by the setting sun. "Promise me, you'll try at least."

"Harry-"

"I'm not offering a solution. Whatever problem you have, will be there tomorrow. However, I'm sure you can escape for a while. With me." He insisted. "Please?"

Harry nudged him again and a smile came through Zayn. It was a victory.

"Okay,"

"No, no...You have to say it..."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I accept the challenge of escaping and being in this moment with you." Harry held Zayn's gaze, seeing in him a hint of disbelief. Another soft nudge on his side. "Go on."

In the end, a lazy and bigger smile appeared on Zayn's lips.

"I accept the challenge of escaping..."

"And-"

"And being in this moment with you, Harry."

"Wonderful," Harry added with pride. Zayn chuckled lightly. "You can begin now. Just...look around. Tell me what you see."

With keen eyes, one could find snapshots of other people's lives happening around them.

There was a group of friends cackling about, enjoying a few afternoon beers. A man sleeping on his towel. An elder couple walking by the water, carrying their shoes and unbothered by the chilly water.

A woman playing with her dog, throwing the stick further and further away so it could fetch. Above them, the seagulls cackled, as they flew closer to the ground and the wind was soft. The sea was calm with short waves and time seemed still. A beautiful winter afternoon.

When Harry turned to Zayn, he saw him staring. His eyes were the colour of honey, glued on him and seemed to go through his heart.

"Well?"

"I see beauty," Zayn responded softly. "Of all kinds."

Oh, shit ...Harry thought, as his heart slowed down for a moment.

Then he turned to the sea again. Zayn seemed more relieved. Calmer.

"I promise I won't think about it again."

"Good," Harry replied, trying to focus. "How's your headache?"

"Better,"

"Good. I want you to enjoy this moment with me. So, want to talk about something else?"

"Tell me more about you."

"I'm not interesting, Zayn." Harry smiled. "Trust me."

"Still..." Zayn begged softly, wanting to be distracted from the dread coming his way. "Tell me. I want to know. I won't judge."

Harry looked around the landscape with dimples forming on his face. He wasn't the mysterious kind; he could open up to the right person. It had just been too long - if it had even ever happened! - that he'd share on this level. That he experienced such a connection that made his fingertips tingle and his heart drum against his chest.

"I used to come here with my family when I was younger. It would be me, my mum and my sister having a picnic and staying all afternoon. Sometimes my friends would join, and we'd make a day out of it. It was genuinely nice." He explained. "We didn't live here, but close enough that we could drive up on the weekends or I could roll around with my bike from home. It's pretty safe, everyone is friendly, it seems rather...country, but you're close to London and there are other cities around. We're not isolated. There's just a particular thing you can't see right now, but the nightlife here is...pretty cool."

"Here?" Zayn looked around, seeing nothing but sand. "Doesn't seem like a roaring centre for partygoers."

"You just have to know the right people," Harry responded. He sighed, feeling the wind on his face. "It's one of my favourite places to be. It's quite special."

"What did you do today? Before I...kidnapped you."

"That's one way to put it, yes." Harry chuckled. "I met my sister today after five years. I didn't tell her I was coming home, and she was surprised. She cried. I cried. We spent some time together. She's a teacher, first and second grade, not far from here. She's engaged to her long-time boyfriend...It was great seeing her."

"What's her name?"

"Gemma," Harry responded. "She told me, I should reach out to our mother but...I'm not brave enough just yet. I caused her too much pain. However, knowing my sister, she already told Mum I was out."

"Do you miss your mother?"

"Terribly."

They sat in silence once more. Ahead of them, the dog sprinted to one side, catching the stick, and galloping back to the owner who congratulated him. A bit further down, a young couple shared loving kisses and whispered romantic lines to one another.

They both saw it.

They both looked away, remembering their kiss.

Harry noticed Zayn shiver a little. He wore a buttoned-up shirt without a blazer and, even though the sun was warm, it was still winter. Harry removed his coat.

"Here,"

"No, no...it's okay..."

"My sweater is thick. It's fine."

Harry placed the coat over Zayn's shoulder, adjusting it correctly, to keep him from the cold. The fact that they were so close to one another made them pause, staring into one another. Again, that spark clicked between them.

"Thank you, Harry," Zayn added, moving away from his space. "So...you grew up around here?"

"Yes,"

"Want to show me around?"

"It's just a little town," Harry responded, with his arms around his knees. "If you're hoping to find a roaring city, you've got another thing coming."

"You said it was special."

"It is."

"And you wanted me to escape and live in the moment with you."

"That I did."

"So, if we are to escape and live in the moment then...we can't be sitting on the sand until nightfall. Take me somewhere."

Harry trembled at his request, coming out with softness out of those lips and honey-coloured eyes.

"All right," Harry got up easily, then reached over to Zayn. "Let's go for a drive."

Harry drove Zayn around this town on the shore of England. It looked straight out of a romantic novel with a boardwalk alongside the beach on one side and restaurants on the other. Harry pointed out places here and there, attaching them to a memory of some sort and Zayn listened.

Or tried too.

Harry was too handsome to look away. Zayn liked how big his eyes got whenever he pointed something out or how he gesticulated, with one hand on the wheel, and another flying about. Zayn liked how Harry drove. Using his big hands on the wheel and making it seem too easy - practically using just one hand to turn. It had never been his thing, watching a man drive with one hand - Zayn now understood why it could be for some people.

His eyes wandered to his thighs, seeing how the pants gathered around his centre; the seat belt tightening against his torso; the wind blowing those lovely curls and how he tried to keep them back...

"Oh!" Harry reached his arm over to Zayn, while at the same time, he hit the brakes hard. Zayn jolted to the front, bumping into his arm. "Sorry. You okay?"

"Yeah," Zayn responded, feeling Harry's arm across his chest. "What happened?"

"See that?" Harry pointed to an old building. "That was our spot. Come on. Let me show you."

They parked the car on a busy street. Ahead of them stood the remnants of what was once a church, but now was nothing more than its skeleton of it. It had no ceiling; no doors and the walls had long crumbled. The natural vegetation had taken over, with green arms and leaves, poking out of the debris.

There was debris everywhere and the place seemed completely abandoned to the elements. Inside the wind whistled around them, revealing the immensity of this lost work of architecture. The wooden church pews laid broken or twisted upside down, with very few worthy of sitting down.

The altar itself was gone, but a cross stood in its place, on higher ground. Harry walked down the nave, navigating rocks and pieces of wood, leading the path for Zayn, who followed. The place had an eerie look, but the orange light from the sunset gave it a mystical sense and Zayn felt like he had stepped into a dream.

"It was supposed to be a church," Harry explained standing in front of the destroyed altar. "One day, there was this horrible storm and the site flooded. Some of the ceiling, which was still being done, crumbled down. Destroyed. No one ever picked it up."

"Why?"

"Too expensive," He responded, looking at the sky above their heads. Birds flew overhead, getting in and out of the nests they created within the fallen walls. "Better to just leave it."

"Not even...clean it up?"

"Nope," He continued. "It's been like this since I can remember. We used to hang out here. Playing amongst the debris being reckless...I fell, around here. Scraped my knee running from some people."

"Running in the remains of an abandoned building does not seem very smart, Harry."

"It wasn't." Harry chuckled. "But it was a matter of survival. If they caught me, I'd be dead."

"Really?"

Harry chuckled harder. "No, not really. They would just slap me around a little."

"You sound like a young menace."

"Me? No. I was one of the good guys." Zayn snorted a chuckle and Harry giggled, walking around. "I was! I always behaved, kept everyone in place...never messed around with the wrong boy..."

"It's because you were the bad boy, Harry."

"Possibly," Harry shrugged. The question formed in his mind, and he tried to form it in the best way possible. "What about you...did you ever mess around with the wrong... people...?"

Zayn smirked knowing his question. "Good girls. Bad boys."

"Which one do you like more?"

"Anything with a hint of bad is good."

Understanding his coded message, Harry smiled.

"So...aside from that Ben, no one ever got your heart?" Harry asked. "Not even a little bit of it?"

"No," Zayn answered. "What about you? Someone occupied your heart or...did you ever find love within the four walls of a prison?"

"I never found love, period. Even before prison."

"Really?"

"I was a bad boy, Zayn. I did not have romance in mind, just making money." Harry chuckled. "Sure, I could've tried something in jail - you know, romance can happen anywhere. But I kept to myself." The next piece of information, he didn't even plan to reveal, but it came out. "I haven't had... intimacy in five years."

Zayn paused to look at him with surprise "What?"

"Yeah."

"You're joking."

"No. You were my first...Let's say, intimate act - or the closest thing to it - the other night. The kiss. We can call that intimate, no?"

"Yes,"

"Yeah. So...You broke the seal, I guess..."

"Harry, I-"

"Don't make a big deal out of it. It's fine. It's perfectly fine."

"I feel bad now."

"Why?"

"Because...I feel you needed a big...you know...moment type of thing."

"Don't," Harry commented with a smile. "It was a wonderful glass of water after a walk in the desert."

They revolved around one another like two satellites pulled together by a magnet. Zayn could feel Harry walk behind him.

It was a dance of seduction between the two, without any of them admitting what it was and never getting close enough to touch. The resolve was clear for both.

Zayn kicked a pebble or two, looking around not knowing what to do with the information he had just received from Harry.

"Is this weird?" Harry asked, out of nowhere breaking the silence.

"What do you mean?"

"You and me. This. Getting to know one another like this...is this weird?"

"Not to me," Zayn responded, looking back at him from a safe distance. "I don't have a problem getting to know you."

Harry walked over to Zayn in slow steps.

"Why do you want to get to know me?"

"Because..." Zayn answered in a whisper. "You're the most fascinating thing that has ever crossed my path."

Their distance was diminished now and, if there were any doubts before, their intentions were clear. It was all a matter of taking the first step.

"Fascinating," Harry repeated. "No one ever called me that before."

"Well, you are."

Harry took another step closer to Zayn, with hands behind his back.

"Should I be concerned?"

"No," Zayn answered, looking at his lips. "Should I?"

"I told you I wouldn't dare to break your heart. I meant it."

"Then, it's only fair I don't break yours either, Harry."

"Well, aren't we nice to one another?"

Without saying a word, Harry walked away, leading the way.

Zayn stood behind trying to control his urge. He watched Harry walk away from him with long strides, hands behind his back.

At first, he thought this escape with my challenge was a silly joke, but now he was so deep into it.

While looking at Harry walking away, he was in complete tunnel vision. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to drown in every second with him. There was no company. No money leak. No insidious proposal.

Just Harry casually walking.

Without thinking, he followed Harry. Doing the same path, he was doing, going around the same stones and jumping over the same puddles. In his mind, nothing mattered now, and he would stay in this there, in this state of lingering excitement, for as long as he could.

Harry turned the corner and disappeared out of sight. Zayn stopped looking back at the decrepit church seeing the beauty in its abandonment. It was best not to build it. It was beautiful as it was.

Just as he was leaving, Harry jumped in front of him, and they almost bumped into one another.

"Oh, sorry-"

"Iss'okay-"

"Hey, here's the thing..." Harry began, looking a bit embarrassed. "So...remember when I told you I learned to drive when I was 12?"

"Yes..."

"A bit later, I began...stealing cars, as well." Zayn's eyebrows rose lightly. "Well...I started here. I stole a lot of cars and parts...You know...stuff..."

"So, you sold drugs and stole cars."

"Yes,"

"Playing football and riding a bike was not fun enough?"

Harry chuckled. "You promised you wouldn't judge."

"Well, what are you doing to tell me next, that you sniffed coke when you were five?"

"I was 19-"

Zayn let out a laugh, shaking his head.

"And you say you're not fascinating."

"Yes, but I'm trying to tell you something."

"Go ahead. Share your dirty secrets with me. I won't fire you. It makes me want to keep you more."

"So..." Harry winced. "We are missing two of our tires."

Zayn's smile disappeared.

"What?" Harry looked to the side and Zayn mimicked him. There was the Bentley, just as Harry said: without two of the front wheels and the emblem on the front. Zayn gasped walking back to the car. "Harry... what -"

"I know-"

"Where are my tires?"

"I can explain-"

"Do people even steal car tires anymore?"

"So-"

"Harry, what-"

"Now," Harry cut him off with certainty. "Before you freak out, I have good news."

"What is it?"

"I know who did it," Harry announced. "She's a friend."

"A friend?"

"Yes," He responded with a smile. "A great friend."

The pair sat against the Bentley waiting for this 'friend' to come and help. They were leaning against the hood of the car, sitting close to one another, watching the afternoon transform into the night with ease.

Then, Zayn began chuckling. Harry looked at him "What?"

"I mean...we come to your hometown to get my tires stolen..." Zayn kept chuckling, holding on to himself. "It's ridiculous."

"I didn't do it on purpose."

"I know," Zayn responded with a chuckle. "But it's funny."

"There's a first time for everything."

"Clearly," Zayn responded, quieting down. "So, who is this friend?"

"Well, basically I would steal the cars and she would sell them," Harry responded. "We all started working for her. We were small, fast, and moved like a unit me and my friends.'

'One of them decided that drugs were more of his scene. So, I would drive him around, poking around the area and he'd do his sales. Eventually, I understood that money came faster with him, so I became his number 2.

"I thought this was supposed to be a safe town."

"We never acted here," Harry responded. "You never steal from your own home. Rule number 1. People who steal from their own home, have no morals."

"And you had?"

"I told you; I was one of the good ones," Harry smirked. "Besides, she was always cool and understood when we went to do our thing."

"She?"

"Oh yeah..." A van parked close to them, and the doors opened. A woman came out with a colourful sequin jumpsuit and a pink fur coat. She saw Harry, letting out a gigantic cackle that echoed around the street. "That's her."

"Look at that!" The woman responded with a gigantic smile. "Look at you. Motherfucker..."

"Hi, Melissa."

"Hi..." The two shared a well-deserved hug her laughter echoing all over. "Oh, my God! When did you get out, bitch?"

It was then that Zayn noticed her thick American accent. "About a month..."

"A whole ass month?" Melissa asked, cocking her head. Her brown skin made her green makeup pop out. "You're foul."

"I'm sorry," Harry responded, grabbing her hand full of rings, and kissing it. "But I'm here now and you stole the wheels out of this car."

Melissa peeked over at the Bentley and winced.

"Oh, it's yours?"

"Well, it's his..." Harry pointed at Zayn who stood to the side. "He's my boss."

Melissa snapped her head towards Harry. "Wait...you changed factions?"

"No, no..." Harry responded softly. "I'm not in the life anymore. I'm out."

Melissa's eyes went wide, and her mouth fell open. "And he let you?"

"He doesn't own me. I was tired of it."

"Oh, baby..." Melissa cooed, caressing Harry's face. Then, she turned to Zayn and sauntered over to him. "I'm sorry for stealing the wheels of your car, but y'all parked in a not-so-good area."

Zayn looked over at Harry and smiled. "You tricked me, Harry. I'm in a den of criminality."

"Come on. Be nice and cool." Melissa responded. "People who live here know all about us. We can smell Londoners from a mile away. Easy targets."

"Aren't you American?"

"Born and raised in Detroit, baby!" Melissa smiled with pride and Zayn mimicked her smile too. "Can't go back, though. Got a warrant on my head - had to run away. Besides the point! So, the wheels..."

"Yes, can I get them?"

"No,"

"No?"

"I sold them."

"You what?" Harry asked. "How?"

"By selling them, Harry-"

"You just took them."

"Yeah..." Melissa shrugged. "I had a Bentley just like that that needed tires."

"Well, can you get them back?"

"No, the cars are gone. Across the channel now."

Zayn looked at Harry and let out a chuckle. Harry rushed to try to fix the situation.

"Well, can you get us new wheels?"

Melissa shrugged "Sure. But, we'll have to change all four of them and I'd have to see if my guy has it."

"So, you had a guy and yet you stole these wheels?"

"Harry, baby..." Melissa cooed, stroking his cheek. "Don't you know that when the opportunity arises you need to move? Your wheels were good, I took them. Now, if I must order four more for my guy, it'll cost ya..."

Zayn chuckled with his entire body, laughing at the entire situation. Harry felt bad for everything.

"Okay, maybe we can call someone to come get you and I'll stay behind-"

"No, no..." Zayn responded with a smile. "It's fine. I don't mind. I...I don't want to go home right now."

"I'm sorry. I am, Zayn."

"It's fine," The CEO responded, softly. He turned to Melissa. "How long until we get new tires?"

"Three hours..." Melissa responded with a shrug. "I don't know. It depends if he's in a good mood. He's not...I haven't called since we last slept together."

Harry tilted his head to the side,

"So, in actuality, you rather steal tires than talk to your man?" Harry inquired. "It's not reasonable."

"Listen, Chris and I... have a problem. We are not like other couples."

"In the sense that you steal cars, and he's arrested you countless times."

"It's how we express our love."

Another laugh from Zayn, who could not believe he was in this situation. Harry pulled him aside gently, with a grip on his elbow.

"Zayn, let me call Rob to take you home. This is my fault. I'll pay for everything-"

"Stop. Stop..." Zayn begged, coming closer to him. "It's fine. Really. I don't mind - it's just a car and this entire situation is funny..."

"Are you sure?"

"You wanted me to escape. We're escaping." Zayn responded like velvet running on the skin. "I don't mind. I could use a distraction."

"Okay..."

"So..." Zayn turned to Melissa, who looked at her long green nails. "We got a few hours to kill. What do we do around here for fun?"

The bar was called Yitty.

It had loud music, good drinks, and amazing vibes. Melissa led the way, dancing and waving to people. She was loud and welcoming, and her personality could fill the entire room. The word Yitty was sprawled in neon blue behind the bar, where a few bartenders attended to the patrons, giving them all the liquid to fuel their desires.

The stripers on the poles danced, shaking their hips, and seducing silly men who thought they had a chance. Contrary to The Velvet, Yitty was a lot smaller, and the girls weren't nearly as 'perfect'. Meaning, they were real women. The breasts weren't as round and perky or the asses had a bit more stretch marks and cellulite, but these women were adored just as hard.

The Yitty was full to the brim of men (and women) who worshipped the dancers on the poles. Who threw bills when they shook their hips on stage. Who whistled when they grabbed their breasts in their faces.

It wasn't a factory of hyper-beautiful women, of almost unreachable grace, but instead a collection of women who owned their sexuality and showcased their socially dictated 'imperfections' as objects of desire - and it worked.

Melissa wore see-through pants, exhibiting a thong logged between her cheeks. Her bodysuit covered the top half of her body, with deep cleavage showing her big breasts resting under her chin and she wore a lace transparent robe dragging behind her with feathered sleeves. As she walked through the bar, men kissed her hand and others sighed seeing her. She was a Queen, in this little lost small town near the beach.

She walked behind the bar and told Harry and Zayn to sit across from her. On stage a woman dragged a patron, sitting him on a chair. She sat on him mimicking familiar movements and the man seemed to be in heaven with her.

Harry touched Zayn on the arm, pointing at the bar. Walking over, Melissa was already behind the counter.

"I can't believe you made it," Harry responded, looking around at the club, bustling with life. "This place is amazing."

"Welcome to Yitty!" Melissa responded with open arms. She turned to Zayn and winked. "It's titty backwards, babe."

"Oh, I figured..." Zayn responded. "It's an amazing place. I love the concept."

"We love everyone here. Gay, Lesbian, Black, Muslim, Christian Fat, Skinny...You name it, you're welcome. We celebrate lust, sexual desire, hunger ...you know, that thing that makes our blood rush. Good things. We have a few rooms in the back as well if...you know...you want to give way to your urges." Melissa winked. "Trust me...it happens more than you think, but we play it very safe. The police and some locals are not very fond of... our displays of consensual adult relationships, even when money is not exchanged."

"What does that mean?" Zayn wondered.

"See all of those men, some are married." Melissa pointed to the floor full of patrons. "The wives don't particularly like the idea do them being up here. They believe my girls are prostitutes when they are not: they are female dancers who own their bodies and their sexuality.'

'If they choose to have something with a man then... it's on them, as adults, to have a consensual and safe moment. No money. And they know not to do that here. Any exchange of money that happens on these grounds, the girls are kicked out. I rather have them shake their asses on my stage, but on their feet, making money, then spread open in a hotel room where anything can happen.'

'The wives have managed to shut us down for a few days. But we open right back up, baby. Bigger, better, and bolder."

"It's a full house," Harry commented looking around. "It's not even 10h00 PM."

"Friday, baby. All the freaks and geeks come out to play." Melissa cackled. She turned to Zayn with a serious face and explained: "Nothing against you, Londoners, but your bars and strip clubs are too fabricated. You want women to be skinny, tall, with a perfect body - that is not the sole definition of what it means to be a woman! For instance, The Velvet..."

Harry noticed Zayn become uncomfortable.

"It's a factory! They all look the same. Ridiculous! At Yitty, we come in several shapes, sizes, and strands of thought. We have big boobs, big asses, cellulite and stretchmarks and real men ...fucking love that shit.'

'At Yitty, that girl you used to make fun of in school because she was fat, is now shaking her ass on my stage and getting flowers from hordes of men, dammit."

Melissa slammed her hand on the counter and cackled loudly.

"Amazing," Zayn responded, matching her energy. "Girl power to you."

"Women here can own their sexuality, can seduce, be seduced, and adored. Most importantly, in a safe place. No one comes to fuck around and find out, because...I'm not the one." Melissa warned. "No one dares to challenge me. I'm the Queen of the Coast, baby."

"From America."

"Detroit, yes!" Melissa responded. "I had a similar establishment back home, but...I got caught in the crossfire. It happens. Now, I'm here...It's not the MotorCity, but fucking hell if ain't just as classy!"

The room whistled and they turned to see the woman jiggle her breasts in the face of the man, so it seemed in heaven.

"Yeah, baby!" Melissa shouted, snapping her fingers.

Harry watched Zayn's profile seeing him applaud as well and laugh. When he whistled, Harry knew his mission was accomplished.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Harry asked, leaning closer to Zayn so he could be heard over the music.

Zayn turned to him with a smile.

"Very." He lingered his gaze for an extra long. "I could be in this moment forever, to be honest."

"Would you?"

"I would."

Applause erupted as the dancer ended her show with a banger of a song and bills pouring down on her. The duo turned to clap and whistle as the woman stood up, blowing kisses, and waving at the patrons who fell at her feet.

She thanked the man in the chair - who didn't want to leave and had to be pulled off stage. Then sashayed behind the red curtains, as the lights turned down

The DJ pushed the music, and the bar was bustling again with chattering and laughs. It was like everything had gone back to normal and it was just another bar. The women wandered about with little to no clothes either serving drinks or just talking.

Melissa grabbed a bottle of bourbon and placed it on top of the table. She looked at Harry and he shook his head.

"No," Harry responded. "I'm sober."

"Boy, shut up." Melissa snapped back. "You're out of prison, you don't tell me and now you won't do a shot with me?"

"I'm sober, sweetheart."

"And? I don't care." Melissa turned to Zayn in revolt. "Don't you agree?"

"I do," Zayn responded with a smirk. Harry turned to him, and he shrugged. "It's just one shot. One time."

"You're a bad influence."

"And I'm your boss."

"It's my day off."

"Didn't you challenge me to escape? Well, I'm not escaping by myself, now am I?"

"That's because I wanted to see you smile. I got mine."

"Now, it's time for me to get mine. Besides, your friend stole the wheels of my car," Zayn retorted. "I'm owed a shot."

Harry scoffed, shaking his head, not believing how he was cornered. He turned to Melissa who shrugged. In the end, he folded.

"Fine,"

Melissa grabbed three small glasses and poured the bourbon. The woman rose hers followed by Zayn and Harry.

"To baby Harry. Out, about and doing better than ever."

One shot, transformed into two. Then three and four. Harry and Zayn drank them all side by side and the effects were obvious.

They sat closer, laughed together with Melissa, and touched more. Harry's hand first rested in the back of Zayn's chair, then moved to his back and was now gripping his shoulder whenever they spoke.

"Oh, no, no...that's not what happened," Harry added, with a hand on Zayn's arm. "You bloody left me and I had to run for my life."

"I took an executive decision, Harry!" Melissa argued, pouring herself another glass. "And in this boat, there's only room for one. I'm Rose in this bitch. Bye Jack."

"Oh, my God!" Harry cackled. "You're so mean to me. I do nothing but love you and worship you like the Queen that you are, Lizzo."

Melissa leaned over and kissed Harry on the cheek, leaving a red imprint.

"There, baby. Don't cry. I love you too much." Then, Melissa turned to Zayn. "Be careful with this one. He's dangerous."

"How so?" Zayn asked.

"No!" Harry cut her off. "No, don't start. Don't begin with your rumours."

"Not rumours, baby," Melissa warned. She turned to Zayn and smiled. "Harry loved to get boys around his finger and then drop them."

Zayn turned to him in surprise.

"Is that so?"

"No, it's not so," Harry argued, pushing his bourbon aside. "She paints me worse than I behaved."

"How many relationships have you had again?" Melissa tucked her hair behind her ear waiting for an answer, but before Harry could answer, she let out. "Oh, that's right! None!"

"The number of relationships of a man is not a reflection of his character!" Zayn nearly choked on his drink, coughing at his side. "What? Why are you laughing?"

"Because..." Zayn responded wiping his mouth. "Sounds something a true troublemaker and heartbreaker would say."

"Do I look like a heartbreaker to you?"

"Yes!"

"What?"

"Yes, you are, and you do. Look at yourself."

"What's wrong with me?"

"You're handsome and you bloody know it."

Harry quieted down and Zayn looked over at him.

"You think I'm handsome?"

The DJ's voice announced another performance hitting the stage to the sound of heavy rock and roll.

Neither of them caught the name, they were both tingling.

The more time passed, the more Zayn seemed completely open and relaxed. He talked loudly and with his accent coming through now that he wasn't trying to speak properly. Ending his sentences with a sharp 'eh' and Harry thought it amusing.

"So, you're fucking rich, huh?" Melissa asked, grabbing another glass of bourbon. "Millionaire?"

"Reaching the low B's."

"Oh, baby where have you been all my life? I can make you so happy." Melissa joked, touching Zayn's cheek. "Now, the car makes sense."

"A bit tacky, innit?"

"Oh, no. A Bentley is a Bentley, Zayn. Don't knock the engine. What do you do, honey?"

"I'm the CEO of a company. Pharmaceuticals."

"Fancy. Do you like it?"

In a split second, Zayn's face faltered. His eyes turned sad, looking down at his drink.

Harry saw in backtrack all the emotions he had been feeling up until now and risked being in his funk again. He closed his eyes, creasing his forehead. Melissa looked at him with a wince.

Harry leaned over, placing one hand on the inside of his thigh and another on his shoulders.

"Hey," Zayn opened his eyes looking at him. "Stay in the moment with me, okay?"

"Should I go home?"

"Do you want to go home?"

"No,"

"Then, stay here with me..." Gently Harry caressed his neck, catching a few strands of his raven hair. Zayn nodded softly, coming back to him and Harry smiled. Then, he turned to Lizzo. "We need more drinks, gorgeous."

"Coming right up, baby."

For the sake of sanity, and to avoid hangovers, they switched the bourbon for beers. They were both lightheaded and buzzing but still carried all their wits about them.

Harry watched Zayn closely, how he belly laughed, tossing his head back and engaged with Melissa. She pulled the fun out of him, and he mirrored her to perfection.

When Melissa leaned over and dropped a kiss on his cheek, leaving a red imprint, Harry knew that he was at that point of happiness and relaxation where decisions were easier to make.

The bar erupted in applause after another woman ended her set, leaving her with nothing but a thin thong covering her privates, while her breasts were loose and free. She was beautiful and sexy, with riveting green eyes and curly hair.

From the stage, she saw Zayn and paused. Then, she blew a kiss directly at him. Zayn pretended to grab the kiss and placed a hand over his heart in a fantastic performance. Soon enough, the woman walked out off the stage and the DJ returned to his music.

They continued their conversation, sitting close to one another, with their knees touching and elbows too. Acting like mirrors of one another.

"I need to use the bathroom," Zayn confessed, sliding off his seat. "Where?"

"Way in the back, sweetheart."

He came out of his seat and swayed a bit, but Harry held his arm.

"You okay?"

Zayn showed him a smirk. "Perfect."

The driver watched his boss walk a straight line to the bathroom. He seemed fine, stopping on his way to talk to one or another woman who interacted with him. When Harry turned, he found Melissa eyeing him with a smile.

"What?"

"You like him."

"He's my boss."

"And?"

"He had a rough day and wanted me to help him forget it."

"And you're doing an amazing job. He's handsome."

"He is."

"And you like him-"

"Stop."

"I've never seen you blush like that, Harry. Oh my God."

"Please..." Harry begged, unable to hide his human reactions. "He's going through a rough time, and I helped him. That's all."

"What do you do for him?"

"Driver."

"Ha! Hilarious" Melissa commented. The woman leaned forward. "I can't believe you're out of the life. I can't believe Tommo let you leave."

"He does not own me," Harry responded. "I'm done. I want to have a better life now."

"I was shocked when I heard you got busted," Melissa commented. "I would have done it differently, but you chose him."

"It wasn't like that-"

"And he got you in jail. I would never. Your mother would kill me if I allowed something like that to happen to you."

"My mother was not very fond of you either, sweetheart."

"Between me and Louis fucking Tomlinson, your mother worshipped me, Harry."

"It doesn't matter. I'm done with Louis and Liam and the enterprise. I am out. I am free. I am working-"

"For a super-hot boss."

"For a-" Harry chuckled. "He's perfectly fine."

"Fucking A, he is," The woman leaned forward, grabbing his hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't go to see you in the big house."

"Nah. I wouldn't want you to do it anyway."

"Was it rough?"

Harry sighed, trying hard to keep those memories down. "I fought through it."

"I missed you, sweetheart." She confessed. "But I'm glad you're out, working and you have a crush to keep you going-"

"I don't have a crush."

"Babe, you have such a crush-" She argued with a smile, while Harry sipped his beer; how he had missed the taste of it. "He's handsome. He's very handsome. And I so want to see you with someone..."

"Why?"

"Because you deserve happiness," Melissa responded with a tantrum. "You deserve to love and to be loved with the fire of a thousand suns."

"All of that, huh?"

"Yes, baby. You do. And I see the way you look at him."

"Lizzo..."

"Yes, baby, I saw it. Sparkling eyes, laughing at his jokes, hands on him..." Harry shook his head not wanting to believe it. "And him too..." Harry perked up, looking at her. "Oh, he has this devotion in his eyes, when you speak. He's listening to everything you say and taking it all in. Like a sponge...If I ever felt like a third wheel it was right now, but I loved it."

Harry looked at his beer pondering the possibility. Could it be? Would he dare? He drank a little more of his beer, while Melissa was distracted by a loving patron.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw Zayn come out of the bathroom. He seemed happy and relaxed, all smiles. A woman, the same one who had blown him a kiss, walked by him, she had little to no clothes and Zayn seemed stunned by her approach. They talked and Harry felt something scratching under his skin.

He turned back to the bar, cracking his neck, at the thought of Zayn talking to someone else. Melissa was still entertaining her patron and Harry was left to be with his drink. He wondered what was taking Zayn so long. She couldn't possibly be that interesting.

Behind the bar stood a mirror and looking up, Harry could see Zayn perfectly. He was smiling, talking and still, she held his hand. The woman touched the collar of his shirt, Harry gripped the pint harder.

What the fuck was she doing?

Zayn seemed flattered, with a lazy smile coming his way and leaning towards her. The woman turned her face, then pointed at her cheek.

She wanted a kiss.

Don't. Don't you do it.

Zayn leaned over and left a little peck on the corner of her lips. The woman was melting. Harry drank more of his beer, with his eyes throwing daggers through the mirror.

After a lot of flattering, the woman began pulling Zayn away. At first, he denied it, but then she kept insisting and there he went. Guided by this muse into the dark realm of pleasure. They turned into a small hall, and she pushed the door open. Before entering, Zayn turned to Harry.

A split second of a stare.

Then, Zayn went into the room.

Harry sat in his place for a while, assessing what was happening inside of him.

Something was itching. Something was bothering him. He looked over his shoulder, seeing a red light turn on above a dark door and a security guard planted close by. He knew what it meant.

He drank the rest of his beer, while his leg kept shaking.

He was bothered. The image of Zayn being dragged away by some women itched under his skin. He looked over at Melissa who cackled, talking to the patron who kissed her hand and called her a muse.

Discreetly, he got out of his seat and headed over to that room, at the same time the DJ announced a new act and the crowd erupted in excitement.

The driver took the opportunity of the security guard being distracted by the spread legs on stage and softly gilded behind him. He stood on the other side of the door and for a second, he thought he was a fool. And he thought of going back to his seat, nestling the beer bottle. However, his impulse dictated another thing.

Harry planted a hand on the handle, then turned the knob. He entered, closing the door behind him and what he saw made him itch even more.

The sofa went from one side of the small room to the other in a half circle, with mirrors on the walls and the ceiling. In the middle was a small stage with a pole. But none of that mattered, what mattered was what was happening in front of his eyes.

The woman came down off the pole and walked over to Zayn straddling him. She planted his hands on her hips, while she leaned over to him like a snake rubbing on him. Zayn's hands ran over her thighs, over her ass and planted on each cheek. The stripper kept rubbing on him, swaying her hair from side to side, while she touched his face and torso.

Harry walked into the room, sitting across from the two of them, just watching.

He twitched again, cracking his neck. The stripper pushed Zayn back on the sofa, putting his hands on her breasts - she was doing most of the work, he was just watching her move and simulate something that wasn't happening. She was skilled, and professional in her seduction, with slow motion and calculated movements.

When Zayn caught Harry sitting across from him...he didn't react.

The two stared at one another, with the woman on his lap rubbing on him. Zayn kept his eyes locked on Harry, pouring all his attention on him. It was obvious they were both desiring the same, with a fire burning within and mirroring their intense stares.

Without thinking, Harry got up from his seat and walked over silently.

At the same time, the woman got off Zayn's lap and got on her knees in front of him. Zayn kept his eyes on Harry, who approached them with caution. The woman unbuttoned Zayn's pants and began kissing him around his waistline.

Harry stood close to them, with Zayn looking up. The stripper pulled his boxers down, showing his erect cock and she was salivating already. Looking up, she then caught Harry standing there and froze. Unaware of what to do.

"Keep going," Zayn commanded. He was looking at Harry, who stared at his cock close to the stripper's face.

The woman shrugged and immediately took Zayn into her mouth. She began to suck, deepening her cheeks as she moved her head on his lap. Zayn began breathing hard, still looking at Harry and soon enough, his head lulled back.

Harry sat next to him, watching the pleasure mirrored in his face: lips parted, soft pants of pleasure and eyes darkened with desire. The stripper removed her mouth, pumping Zayn's cock with one hand and Harry looked at it. It was thick, standing straight from a sea of dark hairs, with pulsating veins and a perfect size. It glistened with her saliva and had lipstick all over it.

Looking back at Zayn, the driver saw his chest rise and fall with a short breath of pleasure. Zayn slowly blinked in his direction, looking at his lips and craving them.

On impulse, Harry kissed him, cupping his face. Their lips matched, with the driver deepening the kiss immediately, licking, and sucking Zayn's lips. The young CEO kept panting and moaning from the blowjob, while his hands pulled Harry closer. Harry licked his lips, sucking on them as Zayn let out a moan.

The woman kept her job, moving her head up and down on Zayn's cock, loving every minute of it. Harry's lips latch onto his neck, kissing and biting; it was impossible to know what was making Zayn moan harder: his cock being sucked or Harry kissing him.

Zayn turned to Harry with a passionate look on his face.

"Let me touch you..."

His skilled hands moved to Harry's jeans, unbuttoning them, then inserting his warm hand. Zayn caught a full hand of Harry and gasped at his size.

Then, Zayn began moving his hand up and down. They stared at one another in this circle of pleasure: Zayn receiving a blowjob from a stripper while wanking off Harry sitting next to him.

So perverted, so good. The moans from the two men sounded the same and they came out of their lips with the same velvety feel.

Harry looked at him with adoration, enjoying the soft massage, loving the look on Zayn's face. Loving this side of him.

A wave of pleasure crashed into Zayn, making him moan and curse under his breath. Whatever the stripper was doing, was enough for his hand to abandon Harry and touch her hair. Moved it out of the way, so he could see her gag on him.

Harry cupped Zayn's face.

"Focus on me," He begged, with a whisper. Zayn agreed with a soft nod, looking at his lips.

They kissed again, so intensely they were out of breath. Zayn gasped, feeling himself tilt over with desire. Harry grabbed his hand, putting it on his cock again and Zayn continued to pump this time faster.

"Fuck..." The young CEO looked at Harry's cock as it twiched and pulsated in his hand. "Let me taste it..."

Harry got to his knees on the sofa, coming close to Zayn's face as he opened his mouth. When Zayn's lips touched him, Harry melted with his eyes close. Zayn was hungry for him, with hands latched on his side, sliding all over Harry's cock and slobbering on it without using his hands. Harry's hips moved towards his face, while his cock hit the back of Zayn's relaxed throat. Harry caressed Zayn's hair, then his face, seeing such a beautiful man making such a crude gesture. 

When he felt himself trickle on Zayn's tongue, he pulled away. Still drunk on it Zayn gave him a few more licks, catching the lazy drops on his pink tongue and tasting as if it were the most beautiful of desserts. 

Harry met his lips in a passionate kiss, taking all of the flavours that lingered on Zayn's tongue. Now, that all the attention was back to him, Zayn gasped into his lips and hissed. The woman's head moved faster on his lap and she moaned - as touched herself as she did it. 

"Look at me," Harry demanded. Zayn stared into his green eyes, humming in pleasure. "Are you close?"

"Yes," He whispered, breathing hard. Harry cupped his face, rubbing his thumb on Zayn's lips and he kissed it back. "Almost."

Harry kissed him again, slowly, dragging his lips. He moved again into Zayn, catching his tongue, then licked him like the sweetest of candies. Zayn began panting harder, drowning his cries for pleasure as he stared into Harry's green eyes as his moans gained weight.

"Come on..." Harry enticed with a whisper, looking at his lips. "Come on, honey..."

Zayn gripped Harry's shirt, pulling him closer, as he rose high and higher still. Holding his face, the driver watched Zayn's look of pleasure as he moaned into his mouth. He admired his features, how his skin looked under the red light, his eyes half closed but also focused on Harry.

Harry studied his reaction, his moans, his sighs, and his pants to a tea. Memorising all his sounds, wanting to hear them repeatedly. Zayn drowned a cry and his entire body stiffened, as the orgasm washed over him - the veins on his neck popped, he stopped breathing, and his eyes couldn't resist staying open. 

Harry kept watching him, as the pleasure rolled over him - he looked at the stripper seeing the first strands fly away from the stripper's face while she used her hand. As it came out of Zayn's cock, she mouthed him and began gulping. Harry bit his lip, wishing to be on the receiving end of all that good stuff.

The woman sucked a bit more, gulping everything and then sucked again. Her lipstick was smudged, some of Zayn's load trickled down her chin and she was red in the face. Once she was done, the woman removed her mouth and Zayn collapsed on himself. His cock was still half hard, leaking still as it lay on the inside of his leg. 

Harry leaned over to the woman, grabbed her cheeks, and looked deep into her eyes. She was beautiful still, amazing body and a skilled mouth. Wiping some of it off her chin, Harry kissed her. He wanted all the flavours she had caught from Zayn. Every single drop. He sucked the life out of her, leaving the woman breathless. He grabbed her hair, pulling her hair back and exposing her neck - He licked one strip on her neck, bite her chin and then dropped another quick on her.

"Good girl," He whispered to her and the woman almost orgasmed again. 

He left her alone, turning to Zayn. Zayn's eyes wandered to Harry's cock, which was still hard and demanding release. The young CEO sat up and began pumping Harry again.

Slowly, with dedication and desire. Harry began to lul into the pleasure of the room, feeling Zayn's other hand on his hair, pulling his head back. The young driver moaned softly into his lips and Zayn smirked with darkened eyes under the red light. 

"Get us a room..." Zayn whispered into him. Harry's trembling breath met his lips. "I want a room. You and me."

Harry gasped a little with widened eyes. 

"Are you sure?"  

"Yes."

Chapter Text

When lightning strikes it ripples down the ground, sending electricity through every layer of the Earth. It’s pretty much the same thing when attraction hits that boiling point, which tilts over when you want  nothing  but to erupt into the flames of pleasure. That’s when rationality does nothing to stop it - it can’t. It’s bigger than anything. 

Everything is pure energy; in such a thick layer you can touch it. You respond to that boiling point with instinct, passion, with hunger. So intense, you feel it brushes against the tip of your fingers, the taste on your tongue and the wave drowning you. It usually comes as a surprise. Taking you by storm. And the body does the talking for you. 

No sense. No rationality. The moment the electricity flies through you, that’s it. 

You’re done. 

And fuck it if it doesn’t feel  good. 

Harry pulled Zayn by the hand up the stairs. He had taken the keys from Melissa to the small room just above the bar - a room he used to occupy when he was younger and thought Melissa had gotten rid of it. 

As they climbed to the third floor, they traded kisses against the railings again. They weren’t even high off the alcohol anymore; it was just pure attraction bubbling through their veins. They giggled, laughed, tripped over their feet and as they went up the first floor. Harry pushed Zayn against the railings, tasting the softness of his lips and loving the soft pants.

He pressed his body against the young CEO, crushing him with his desire. He wanted Zayn to know, that he was going to have him, and Zayn understand the message. Harry felt his skilled fingers, rubbing that sweet spot over his jeans, palming Harry’s size. His erection stood against the fabric, creating an obvious tent.

Cupping his face, tilting his head so he could kiss, Harry panted, feeling Zayn’s touch. He was ready to explode right there and then. 

Zayn pushed him off, separating their bodies and Harry staggered back against the wall. They paused for a moment, watching each other with unmeasured hunger. 

“Fucking tease…” 

“I told you to get us a room. Not the staircase.” Zayn responded, with an equal hard-on. Harry approached him again, pulling his face into his and seeing how gone Zayn was. “Do you want me?”

“Yes,”

“What do you want to do to me?”

Harry hissed against his lips. “I want you to say my name.”

"And?"

"I want you to come for me."

“Then  get us  a room.”

Harry grabbed Zayn’s hand pulling him up the stairs to another floor. As they moved up, the music and bustling energy of Yitty, were behind them the only rhythm guiding them was the pounding of their hearts. 

As they reached the second floor, Zayn rushed past Harry, blocking his path. He stood on the upper step, looking down at Harry. The CEO pulled him closer, deepening their connection and taking advantage of the height difference.

None of them used reason or common sense, just focused on the emotions they were feeling. Blood rushed through their veins without a match and all sense was gone. 

“One more floor…” Harry whispered against his pleading lips. “Just one.”

Zayn guided him to the last floor, where the hallway ended at a door. Harry walked past him, pulling out a key and opening the entrance to the bedroom.

He entered a room; he hadn't been inside in years. He could almost navigate it with closed eyes, as everything was still in place. While Zayn looked down to the lower floors, from where the music pulsated, Harry wandered around the bed and turned on the lonely lamp on the one nightstand. 

He watched as Zayn looked at him from the hallway, then carefully walked in. The CEO entered with cautioned steps, looking around. He closed the door behind him, drowning ng all the noise; suddenly, it was quiet. They had entered a bubble of their own making. 

The room was cosy - practically an attic, turned into a bedroom; It had one large bedroom with big pillows and a chair in the corner. A door close by showed the outline of a small bathroom with a shower, a sink, and a toilet. Behind Harry, a tall mirror stood against the wall and next to it, a round window overlooked the street. 

“Whose room is this?”  

“My old bedroom,” Harry responded with honesty. Zayn turned to him with surprise. “Whenever I wanted to escape everything and just breathe, I’d come here. Melissa owns the building, but she gave me the room. It’s my getaway. No one knows about it.” 

Hunger and desire were written all over his face, with his chest rising and falling in excitement. He hadn't felt like this in years. Trembling. Wanted this to be real, but not daring to make any move that could blow it. 

He watched as Zayn looked around with curiosity, touching every inch of furniture as if it could turn it alive. Slowly, the CEO made his way to the other side of the bed. 

“What would you do in here?” 

“Read,” Harry responded, watching him come closer. “Go to the beach. Sleep-”

“Sex?”

“Sometimes,” Harry responded honestly. “Mostly, just…quiet.”

Zayn stood across from him a short distance. Time slowed. Minutes refused to tick. 

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” Harry responded stoically. “You?”

“Not even close.”

“Good.”

When Zayn grabbed Harry’s hand, it felt as if he were on fire. 

So, this is what it felt like to be aroused and attracted to someone again?

He had missed the feeling. 

The driver watched as Zayn kissed his fingers with care; each one of them. Then, he kissed the palm of his hand. He kept going up his wrist, entering his space and diminishing the gap between them. 

Zayn kissed his cheek, then his temple; Landed his lips on Harry’s forehead, imprinting across until it stopped on the other side of his face. He found the skin on Harry’s neck and kissed it tenderly. Then moved to his chin, biting it softly. 

Harry felt it was some sort of ritual - almost opening Harry’s chakras to a moment of pleasure. They were  inches  away from one another. Harry studied Zayn’s face, his eyes darting all over those lovely features. Looked at something,  any hint,  of doubt on Zayn. 

He saw nothing. 

“Are you sure about this, Zayn?” 

“Yes. You?”

Harry looked at his lips, completely drunk in desire. 

That sweet passionate electricity was all over the place.

“God, yes.”

Harry lunged and kissed Zayn - as if they hadn’t been kissing up there. Swallowing him in a passionate kiss, with such intensity it wasn’t even close to their first kiss just a day before. 

Like a forest fire, their hands moved fast, taking every single item of clothing. Harry tugged his coat off Zayn, then fought to unbutton his shirt nearly ripping buttons off. Zayn pulled his jumper off his skin. The jeans and pants came off next, pooling at their feet and ending up somewhere out of sight. When it came to the shoes, they fought to stand, swaying, and nearly falling - because of the excitement and eagerness. 

Once their clothes were off, Zayn walked back to the bed. Harry followed him like he was a guiding light in the darkness. 

Like the moon follows the Earth. 

Completely hypnotised by the man with the raven hair and golden eyes ahead of him. 

Harry met him again when the back of his legs hit the mattress and together they fell into the softness of a bed that hadn’t seen action in years.

Their kisses echoed around the room, as they rolled around in bed touching every single inch of one another. Discovering parts, they had never seen before. 

Was it rushed? 

Possibly.

Nonetheless, they’d worry about that when the sun came up. Right now, all sense and reason were gone, with hunger dictating their moves. The only thing separating them was the thin and feeble fabric of their underwear - which did nothing to hide their obvious arousal. 

Harry stood on his knees on the bed, gazing at Zayn’s lean body stretched under him - finally looking at him. He hadn’t realised the extent of his tattoos; So many they almost melted into one another, with little to no skin without ink. 

“Wow…” Harry commented, looking at the ink on his body. “These are beautiful."

“Thank you,” Zayn responded out of breath. “You got some good ones too.”

Zayn sat up kissing the moth tattoo on Harry’s stomach, feeling for his defined abs and soft skin. His tongue ran across every inch of skin, sending shivers up and down his spine.

Harry bit his lip, loving the feeling of Zayn’s warm breath on his skin. He looked up at Harry, with his chin resting on his stomach, while the driver caressed his face. 

“You’re beautiful, honey…” His fingers caressed Zayn’s face, tracing the outline of his eyebrows, going down his cheek and rubbing on his lips. “Beautiful face.”

Zayn held his gaze, as his fingers curled around the elastic of Harry’s boxers. He did not avert his eyes, as the skilled fingers moved, pulling the fabric down. With agility, Harry shook off the weakened boxers. He felt Zayn’s hands travel to the back of his legs, the back of his thigh and go his cheeks, gripping a full hand.

“Got a nice one on you…” Zayn commented, landing a sharp slap on his cheek. Then, Zayn looked down seeing Harry’s size and showed a smirk. “A very  nice  one.”

“Want to taste it?”

Harry noticed Zayn’s gentle confirmation nod. He moved to the ferns tattoo on the dip of his waist, touching it with his lips over 

Then, he fell into Zayn's mouth.

Harry felt into the gentle lullaby, sinking deeper into the pleasure. His eyes rolled back, and the air came out of his mouth heavily. Without thinking, his hips began moving towards Zayn’s face, as the first waves of pleasure hit him on the way up. When Zayn got all of him into his mouth, it made Harry curse, so good it was. 

Oh, how he had missed getting an excellent job like this. 

Zayn was skilled, clearly enjoyed doing it and loved Harry’s size. Harry hardened inside his mouth, hitting the back of his throat, and rubbing against his tongue. The sloppy sounds are masked only by Harry’s heavy and addictive groans. Harry’s hand touched Zayn’s raven hair, fingers spreading over his scalp. 

He opened his eyes, looked down and nearly came inside. Zayn was sucking him off beautifully, without using his hand. Just working his mouth front to back. 

“Look at me,” Zayn listened to the command and looked up. Harry was completely enthralled with him. Amazed and hypnotised by the motion of his mouth. “Good, honey. So good for me. So beautiful.”

Harry felt himself tilt over, his hips moving faster. He was about to pop, but he didn’t want it to be over too soon. He wanted more. He wanted Zayn inside out, upside down, completely wide for him. 

Oh, but it felt so good. So warm, inviting and decadent. 

Soon his brain began to disconnect and focused only on pleasure.

“Oh, my God…” He moaned in a cry, holding on to Zayn’s hair. “Fucking hell-”

Reading his begging body language, Zayn went in again deepening his cheeks, then slowly dragged Harry’s cock out of his mouth. The trail of saliva and Harry’s first drops glueing to his chin. 

Zayn fell back on the bed, wiping his mouth dramatically and with an inviting smirk. Harry stood on his knees watching him.

“Am I dreaming?”

“Do I look like a dream, Harry?”

“Yes,” Harry responded with honesty. “The most beautiful one.”

“Come here. Let me prove to you I am a sweet reality, baby.”

Harry fainted hearing him call him such a word. Crawling up to Zayn, the driver fell into him, loving how warm and soft his skin was. 

They kissed once more, this time so loving and romantic. Sparks were flying, fireworks exploded within them as their lips became one. They enjoyed the taste of one another, with hands travelling in foreign lands, gripping sweet flesh. 

Harry could feel that Zayn couldn’t take any more kisses. If he was already on the verge, he could only imagine what the other side must’ve felt. It was enough to drive him mad with desire.

Still, he liked to enjoy and there was so much of Zayn to taste. Down he went, kissing his tattooed neck, down his shoulder, then the torso; Harry kissed and licked every tattoo on his way down. He could see Zayn’s cock standing hard, ready to explode. He could hear Zayn’s hard breathing and unrest in his body - he wanted more. 

He wanted now. 

And Harry was willing to give him  everything . 

Harry reached his waist, then pulled his boxers down slowly, watching as Zayn’s cock sprung free. Unable to resist, Harry kissed him all over and licked his size. Then, took him in his mouth, feeling still a little bit of him left behind by the stripper. 

“You’re driving me insane,” 

Harry plucked him out but kept a steady hand. “I like to take my time.”

The driver sucked him a little bit more, feeling Zayn’s unrest. Then, he removed his mouth, using his hand on the length. His lips further down, to that sensitive area making Zayn jolt as pleasure rushed down over him. 

Feeling the edge was near, Harry abandoned the lower region and made his way up. A kiss on a tattoo on his left rib. Another on his right side. Moving up, another kiss in the middle of his chest. His tongue ran up the neck, kissing behind the ear.

Zayn arched himself, giving him to Harry’s foreplay. He smelled so nice and was so soft to the touch, he wanted nothing more than to have Zayn closer. Latched onto his skin like candy gripping to your teeth. 

There was no rhyme or reason for this. None of it made sense, and yet, in the middle of all this heat, it did. How they perfectly fit into one another, how Zayn’s legs wrapped around Harry’s waist; How their lips locked in, and their tongues licked one another. How intensely they bit, grabbed, and pulled one another. 

Looking at Zayn, Harry searched for any sign that he wasn’t entirely aware of his surroundings. But no, Zayn was  there . All of him. All at once.

Suddenly, an intrusive thought came into his mind. It had been  five years  since the last time he had been intimate with someone. He wondered if his engine still worked. 

Or worse…if it worked well enough to keep Zayn, who seemed too eager and so hungry, satisfied.

Zayn read the thought in his eyes. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I haven’t done this in a while…” Harry whispered with a blush. “Might be over fast.”

“You’re doing great, baby.” Zayn pulled him to another exchange with their tongues. “Don’t overthink it. Just let our bodies do the talking.” 

Harry relaxed again, falling into him and more ready now than ever. Their hadrons rub on one another, poking in different directions. 

The air inside the room was thick, it was warm and too intense for the faint of heart. 

Naturally, Harry guided himself towards Zayn’s entrance and then pushed in slowly. Zayn let out a tiny gasp.

“I’m sorry,” Harry apologised in fear of having hurt him on the first try. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No, no…” Zayn answered with calm. “Keep going. It’s okay.”

“I don’t want to hurt you-”

“You’re not. It’s okay.”

Zayn pulled Harry for another kiss to distract him, assuring him he was fine. Soon enough they were panting again, and their bodies demanded them to go forward. 

Harry tried once more, this time not stopping and getting deeper. Zayn moaned with a gaping mouth, but with closed eyes. It was a slow moan, from deep within and so pure, that made Harry do it too. 

Harry moved back, just to push a little bit deeper and get the same response from Zayn: that long moan from within. He did it again, going halfway on his size, feeling Zayn’s grip on his arms. 

“Fuck me…” He mumbled, moving back. “You’re fucking tight, Zayn."

“You’re going to open me up or what?”

Harry caught that flash of defiance in Zayn’s eyes and wanted to tame it. Taking the challenge, the driver gripped Zayn’s face, staring right into him. At the same time, pushed his cock in, not giving two fucks about Zayn’s reaction. 

“Shhhh…relax into me, baby. It’s okay.” Harry begged, as Zayn, whimpered in pleasure. “It’s okay. You’ll feel good…I’ll make you feel good…” 

Harry began to move rhythmically: slow strokes hitting deep inside of him. Zayn rolled his eyes closed, as soft pants began coming out of his lips. 

Harry looked down, seeing Zayn all open and welcoming. He couldn’t believe it. There he was worshipping Zayn;  every  inch of him, getting all the good spots. Coming in and out of him with ease. 

 Zayn’s hands went to his hair, gripping tight as they continued to move as one. Slowly at first, getting to know one another and memorising the sounds coming from each other's lips. Once he was accustomed to the familiar feeling had almost forgotten, Harry began to move faster.

“Oh my God…” Zayn mumbled, letting his legs fall more open and taking him all. His hands travelled down Harry’s back, gripping at his cheeks, pushing him deeper. Their sobs went as high as the ceiling and their brains disconnected from any rational thought. “Harry…”

Harry looked at Zayn as they kept moving, seeing his eyes closed and face flushed. His moans kept going higher and higher. The same sounds that had come out of him as the stripper sucked his cock. 

Pressing Zayn’s leg further out, leaning on the side, Harry moved into him with faster strokes. A good cock, coming in and out of him with ease. Touching all the good nerves inside of him. Waves of pleasure hit both with such an intensity that made they were unaware of everything. All they wanted was to feel. 

To have more. To implode.

"Call me again..." Harry begged. "Let me hear you moan my name."

Instead of his name, Zayn moaned something else while looking at him.

"Baby…” He moaned as Harry’s hips moved into him. “Baby…”

“Yeah? I’m baby?” Harry asked. Zayn moaned in reply. “Yes. I am. I’m your baby, honey. I’m everything you want. Call me  anything  you want.”

Harry got to his knees, pushing Zayn’s legs further apart, by pressing on the back of his thighs making him spread open. He kept pushing into Zayn, pulling out noises impossible to forget. Harry kept climbing and climbing that mountain of desire.

They kept moving together, with their brains disconnected and lust guiding their way. They cursed the fire burning under their kin while loving the feeling of being in flames. 

“I’m…” Zayn let out softly. He was getting higher on the mountain. Harry could recognize the sounds he had heard before. “Fuck…Fuck…”

Zayn propped himself on his elbows, looking down, watching the spectacle in front of him. Without ceremony, he began to stroke himself fast. He pumped himself fast and with a firm grip.

Harry pressed his legs further, getting a deeper angle and Zayn tossed his head back while moving his hand. They were both there, but Harry wanted him to go first. He had loved seeing it all over his face moments before. 

As he watched the CEO begin his rise, he kept pushing faster. 

“Cum…” Harry ordered, seeing Zayn tilting over into the pleasure wave, with the first drops. “For me. Let me see it. I want to see it.”

The image was more beautiful than Harry ever thought it could be Zayn came undone under him, painting himself all over. His face flushed, hair all over and lust pouring out of his every cell. The sound of him was so melodic and simple, it was enough to make him cry. The most beautiful expression of pleasure Harry had ever seen. 

It was enough to make him explode too. Falling into Zayn, with all his weight, Harry kept moving into him.

His hurricane of pleasure, bottled up inside of him for years, was there. He was tingling all over, vibrating and burning under his skin.

Harry gripped the sheets tightly, using his hands to support his weight, as his hips moved into Zayn. He looked down, completely taken by the scene; seeing himself move in and out - the more he looked, the faster he motioned.

“Oh, fuck…Zayn…Zayn….”

He sounded desperate, on the verge of madness. His breathing was fast as if he was running for his life. He was blind, deaf and without a conscious brain as it bubbled inside of him. 

Zayn pulled him closer, holding on to him.

“Yes, baby.” Zayn enticed, watching his beautiful face. “Give it to me.”

“Fuck. You’re delicious. You’re  beautiful .”

Zayn’s fingers closed over Harry’s curls, giving him that pinch of pain. 

“Inside of me. It’s okay. Come on.”

The hurricane blew the roof out of the house, as it rushed down on Harry. 

“Fuuuck…” 

His load busted inside with such force it came spewing out. He convulsed, moaning loudly against his lips and Zayn mimicked him, loving the see it. 

When he stopped they were both left panting, sweaty and glued to one another. Harry dropped his head on Zayn’s shoulder, listening to the light buzz and feeling the dizziness of such an orgasm. 

The minutes dragged until they rested and became soft. 

Then, Zayn began to chuckle. 

“Well, for someone who  hasn’t  done it in five years…that was good.”

“You know, for a moment I thought I had forgotten how it was done.”

“Pretty easy, huh?”

Harry sighed, nestling against Zayn's neck. 

“Very.”

Zayn looked out the window with his mind completely blank. He couldn’t see anything but darkness, but he could hear the street buzzing with voices and cars rolling around. The beach wasn’t that far, if he focused he could hear the waves crashing and some seagulls flying far away. 

His head was on Harry’s arm, while their fingers were intertwined. He felt calm, at ease and like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He wasn’t expecting any of this to happen. Of course, he had an interest in Harry; it had been bubbling under his skin but seeing it like this was another thing. Feeling it this intensely, was another story. 

He played with Harry’s long fingers, focusing on his strong arm. Zayn felt the best he had ever felt. So light. So comfortable. So…warm. He could feel Harry beside him, breathing slowly now, his warm breath falling like a light breeze on his shoulder. He never wanted to leave. 

“I need a cigarette…” Zayn mumbled.

“Second drawer,” 

Zayn focused on the side table, then pulled the drawer open. Inside was a pack of cigarettes, a simple ashtray, and a yellow lighter. The CEO returned to his position, with the cigarette in his lips and lit it up. Zayn inhaled for a long time and then, blew the smoke in the air. 

His last cigarette had been six months ago and the taste of it was just as good as the orgasm he had just experienced. 

“Jesus, I missed that…” 

Zayn handed the cigarette to Harry and the driver did the same. For a moment they smoked in silence, with the cigarette burning between their lips.

“Does this…complicate things…?”  

Zayn pondered Harry’s question, as he gently padded the burning side of the ashtray. 

“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” Zayn answered, taking the cigarette back. He looked at the ceiling trying to find his footing. “It doesn’t even…have to be serious…If you  don’t  want to.”

“What if…I  want  it to be serious?”

Zayn turned to Harry, seeing the honesty in his eyes. He didn’t turn away from the driver. The honesty he saw in Harry’s eyes made him fall deeper into those pools of pearl green. 

“Why would you want it to be serious?”

“Because…I think I like you…” Zayn’s heart dipped to his stomach. “I…I want to be by your side. I want to take care of you. To protect you. To make you smile-”

“You don’t have to do all of that, Harry-”

“I know, but I want to…” Harry confessed looking at his face. “I want to keep you like this. To have you like this. I know…I know it’s…soon. Perhaps rushed, but…If you want it…I’m down…”

“I’m not sure I’m worthy of such…devotion.”

“You are,” Harry responded softly. “You are baby.”

“Jesus,” Zayn blushed, taking the cigarette to his lips. “My heart is falling out of my chest. You’re making me tremble.”

“That’s good, right?”

Zayn got up from the bed, walking to the nearest window completely naked. He took one final drag of the cigarette, then tapped it on the windowsill before tossing it out. He blew the smoke into the sky, surprised by how many stars he could see. 

Then, he turned to the bed seeing Harry laying there waiting for him, completely his. 

Deep down, he knew this wasn’t just an  affair . This fire and hunger without measure couldn’t possibly be just a one-night stand. He had one-night stands before, they had left him unsatisfied, empty, and bored. 

Not this. Zayn was full to the brim. Pouring from all sides. What he had felt with Harry wasn’t casual. How his heart had beaten, his response, how they connected so deeply responding to one another…

Most definitely,  not  an affair.

“I don’t mind being a secret - I just…want you,” Harry concluded.

Zayn felt himself melt under such words.

“Doesn’t seem fair to you,”

“Do you want me?”

“Yes, I do., Zayn answered, with honesty he wasn’t expecting. “I  do .” He repeated, seeing it as clear as the stars outside. It was surprising. “Shit…”

“I’ll be discreet. I promise.”

“I don’t care about that,” Zayn answered, keeping his distance. “You’re giving me everything and I’m not sure if I’m ready to give back so easily, Harry. Not with everything that is happening…” Suddenly, the memory of the proposal came to him. Time was ticking and soon this sweet dream would end. London was waiting. Louis was waiting. Innov depended on it. “I’m not sure if there’s room for you. I have a lot on my plate right now…”

“I can make room.” Harry sat up on the bed, with his hand reached out and Zayn walked to him, grabbing it. Harry stood on his knees on the bed, facing him. “I’m not going to break your heart. I’m not going to lie to you. I’m not hiding  anything  from you - if you want to know something, ask me and I’ll tell you. I just want to be by your side and…have you. All of you.”

“Why?”

“I feel…You need someone to relieve you…” Harry confessed. “To be there for you. To  listen  to you. I can listen.”

Zayn cupped his face looking at him, while Harry’s hands landed at his sides. Zayn knew he was falling into those green eyes.

“Where did you come from?” He asked himself, searching Harry’s face. “How did you get to me?”

“I got a job as your driver from a very shady company,” Harry chuckled, and Zayn smiled too. “I’m here, honey. I know it’s soon, but I wouldn’t jump if I didn’t feel it. And I know you feel it too.”

“My heart is about to fall out of my mouth.”

“Let me have you…” Harry whispered, pulling him closer. “Let me make you mine and take care of you. Make you feel good.”

“Harry-”

The driver kissed him, dragging his lips. Zayn forgot his train though. 

It didn’t matter anyway. 

“I’ll be your baby…” Harry whispered against his lips. “Only yours.”

“Are you sure this isn’t just…a five-year   drought type of infatuation?”

“I  promise you , it’s not that,” Harry responded, swaying them for a moment. “You’re way more than that. You’re the kind that makes my heart do jumping jacks.”

“Oh my God…”

“Please…”

Zayn huffed, feeling a spark.

“Don’t beg like that,” He responded, trying to control himself. “Don’t beg that way, with those eyes and those lips. I’m losing sense.”

“In a good way?”

“In the best way, baby…”

“I love it when you call me that.” 

They stood like that, hugging one another with their hearts beating fast. It could be fast. Rushed. The heat of the moment, but it made complete sense for both. As they kissed, again that electricity began to spark within them. 

The sound of a buzzing phone took them out of their romance and Zayn knew it had to be his phone. 

“Ignore it,” Harry begged, keeping him in place. “It’s just us.”

“No, I have to answer this,” Zayn responded, moving away. He went searching for the phone in the middle of his scattered clothes. In the end, he found it in Harry’s coat. Seeing it was Niall calling (the tenth call of the day), he sat down on the bed with a loud sigh. For a moment, the reality of everything came to him. “Yes?”

“ Oh, my God!”  Niall let out with relief.  “What, you’re dead and can’t pick you your fucking phone?” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t have my phone with me.”

“ Are you insane? Are you bloody insane? We’re all here worried sick!”  Someone at his side talked and Niall related the message that it was him on the phone. “Your  mum has been thinking the worst.” 

“I’m sorry. I needed some time away.”

“You stormed out"

“I know-”

“You screamed at Denise. What happened?” 

Zayn flinched feeling the dread coming closer and he remembered everything again. He had screamed at his secretary and been a tosser. He made a mental note to send her some flowers and apologise. 

He sensed movement behind, then Harry’s chest pressed against his back. Immediately, he relaxed, feeling warmth when the driver’s lips kissed the back of his head. 

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter. I’m just stressed.”

“Whatever is bothering you, you can tell me.” 

“I know…” Harry sat behind him, holding him close; arms around him, with one hand over his heart. “Again. I’m sorry. I’ll be home in the morning.”

“Where are you? Want me to send someone for you? I can call Harry.” 

“No, no…” Zayn responded with a sigh. Harry kissed his neck softly, then lost his nose behind his ear. “I’m…I’m fine. I don’t need anyone.”

“Okay. Hey, but call me…if you need anything. I’ll run…fuck, I’ll fly to you, bud.” 

“Thank you.”

“Want to talk to your mum?” 

Zayn tensed and Harry held him closer, wanting to calm down.

“I’m fine. I’ll be home in the morning. Just…I’m fine…”

“Okay. Where are you staying?” 

His mind fired a lie. “Some hotel out of London.”

“Are you…alone?” 

Zayn looked at Harry and the driver gave him a short nod, letting him know it was okay to lie.

“Yes.”

“Okay…” 

“See you, bud. I’m fine. I promise. And I’m sorry.” 

The call ended leaving Zayn exhausted. With the reminder of his behaviour in the front of his mind, he felt trapped and began to panic. 

“Breathe…” Harry whispered close to his ear. Holding him close, with a hand of his heart. “You and me. Come on.”

They took a deep breath together. Repeating it repeatedly.

“Take me back…”

“Where?”

“To where we were just now…” Zayn begged in a whisper, with the weight of it all hitting his shoulders again. The CEO leaned into Harry, who cradled him in a sweet embrace, smelling his dark hair. “When there was just us and this room.”

“Want to stay ‘till morning?”

“Yes,”

“Then, we’ll stay.”

****

They traded kisses, memorising each other's faces. They uncovered the sheets, rolling around together in bed. Harry’s wandering hands touched Zayn all over and Zayn explored every inch of Harry. They sighed and moaned in pleasure. The room was warm, full of their scent and their sighs of desire. 

Everything was quiet, while they were in bed, wrapped into one another coming in and out of sleep. Tangled until their limbs get numb. 

But more than the physical, they talked. 

A lot. 

Wanting to know more about the person who was pushing these warm feelings from inside of them.

“So, you began stealing cars when you were a kid?” Zayn asked, leaning against Harry’s chest. “Little rascal.”

“Yeah,” Harry responded, with his head on his shoulder. “My first was a BMW. Easy to break into.”

“You're a criminal, baby.”

Harry held him closer, feeling warm. “I'm a good criminal. I promise.”

“Right…” He scoffed. “With a golden heart."

"And a nice cock."

"A  very nice  cock." Zayn responded. "Do you miss that life?”

Harry pondered for a second. He planted his lips on Zayn’s hair, smelling his shampoo and his natural scent. 

“No,” He responded. “I was getting tired of it. So much stress. No one ever talks about the level of stress and anxiety that looking over your shoulder can get you. Like…I was drinking constantly, smoking, having wild sex parties with everyone and everything…”

“Sex parties, huh?”

“Yes,” Harry sang in his ear, then nibbled on the lobe. “But none of it meant anything. I was just…stressed. I had a target on my back. I was the second on command. My boss counted on me, and anyone could get me.”

“Did you carry a gun?”

“No.”

“Have you ever fired one?”

“I know how, but never needed to. I didn’t like walking into meetings - which were already stressful - with muscles behind and guns. It could get tense quickly. I knew that if I were polite and kind, they wouldn’t kill me.”

“ Maybe?” 

“Always thinking positive.”

“I’m glad they didn’t…” Zayn commented, kissing his hand. “Or I wouldn’t have found you.”

****

They rolled around in the sheets again, changing positions once more. Slow, long strokes - their legs opened, while their hips moved together. They were sweaty and panting, by the time they ended. With their ears buzzing and fingers feeling tingly. 

But they couldn’t get enough from one another. It was addictive. 

Zayn leaned over to the side table opening drawers. He opened the first one and found a couple of pictures. He took the small pile, looking at the images before sneaking closer to Harry. 

"Who are these lovely ladies?"

"Mum and my sister," Harry responded, picking up the photo and identifying each one. He pointed to the young man sitting in between them. "That's me."

"I figured," Zayn chuckled. “Such a baby face.”

"Do you get along with your sisters?”

“Zayn responded, looking at him. “I’m closest with Saffaa and Wali because they still live at home. Doniya…we used to be close, but…I believe we grew apart.”

“Why?”

“Well, she’s the oldest. In the great scheme of things, she should oversee the company, but Dad was against it. He thought I should be the one to do it. I’m pretty sure she would be better at it than me.”

“You seem to be doing fine.”

“Well…the company is still up and running, even if it’s trembling at the basis. Doni wouldn’t be afraid of making tough decisions…she wouldn’t flee London to go to the beach and hide for the night, like a coward.”

“You’re not a coward, honey,” Harry replied with softness. Zayn shrugged, with creased eyebrows. “Do you want to talk about it-”

Zayn shook his head, kicking the thought away and focusing on the picture. 

“Your sister is very beautiful, and your mum looks very sweet.”

“Thank you,”

Zayn flipped to the next photo, and it showed Harry with a man. 

“And this one?”

“Stepdad,” Harry responded with a hint of sadness. “I miss him very much.”

Zayn landed a kiss on his cheek, then moved to the next picture where three young men sat together by a car. 

"And these? I can spot you now, but who are the other two?"

Harry looked at the picture, not answering for a moment. They were so young back then and with so much to live for. 

“Well, these were my friends and also…members of the crew I was in,” Harry pointed to the young man in the middle, the shortest one with a cigarette between his lips. “He’s the boss. “His finger moved to the smiling young man holding a fan of cash. “He’s the third one, in charge of all the operations.” Then, he pointed to himself with a peace sign on the right. “That’s me. I don’t even remember when we took this pic, but we look happy.”  

"What're their names?" Zayn frowned, pulling the photo closer to his face. “The shorter one seems familiar to me; I don’t know why-”

Harry grabbed the picture and then ripped it in two. He tossed the two halves over his shoulder. 

"Doesn't matter.”

“Harry-”

“I left that life behind, Zayn. I have nothing to do with them. I don’t want anything to do with them. I only care about you now.”

“I can’t be your whole life, baby.”

“Yes, yes you can.” Harry kissed him slowly, entering his space. “Now, can we go back to loving?"

“ Again ?”

“It’s been five years. I’m  awfully  hungry.”

“Starving.”

“Completely,” Harry responded, kissing him again. “And you taste so good…I can't get enough of you.”

“You know, my ego is having a field day, right now…”

Harry moved on top of him, finding the space between his legs. 

“Oh, and it should, honey.” 

****

They would use their mouths and their hands. Fingers going in and out, making sure this moan was louder than the previous or that the grip on the arm left a mark or that the scratch went down the back. It was addictive. The sex was addictive. 

Time had no meaning inside that room. If they could stay in that capsule they would forever. Zayn let Harry feed his hunger completely, taking him from the side, from the back and being on top. He wanted Harry to overdose on him, to a point of exhaustion. The more Harry worshipped him, the more he fell into his love. 

The hour clocked on, with evening giving way to the dead of the night. The street grew silent, the roads empty and a light mist coming from the ocean fell on the little village. Neither of them was sleepy - it was too much adrenaline and they feared that if they fell asleep, they’d wake up in different parts of the world or different skins away from one another. 

In the quietness of the room, surrounded by this cloud of passion, Zayn watched Harry, who was too busy exploring the tattoos on his stomach and chest. 

“What are you looking for?” 

“Nothing in particular, but at everything,” Harry responded, with creased eyebrows. His face was inches away from his flat stomach. Zayn brushed his fingers on his cheek. “These are amazing. Were they painful?”

“A little.”

“What were you trying to hide?” Harry asked, moving further down to his hips. 

“Not hiding. I’m just defying.” Zayn responded. “I just…like the ink. My dad went insane when he saw the first one. I guess, the madder he got, the more ink I added to my skin.”

“And now you’re covered in it.” Harry kept moving with a curious eye, all over his torso. His fingers traced gently, almost tickling Zayn’s skin. “They are beautiful.”

“You’ve said that…” Zayn responded, playing with one of his curls. “Let me see yours.”

Harry sat between his legs, showing the arm and Zayn analysed them with intention. “Uh. Very cool.” 

“Yeah. Also, have you noticed that we both have birds?”

“Yes.”

“And you have a triangle. I have a triangle.”

“I noticed, yeah.” Zayn caressed his face, with a soft touch; then, left Harry a soft peck on the lips. “Are you sure you want me?”

“Yes.”

“Now, I’m scared.”

“Of?”

“Disappointing you,” Zayn confessed, caressing his hair. “You have me way too high in that gallery of yours.”

“Well…” Harry sighed, blinking slowly. “You deserve it. Have you looked at yourself?

“What am I missing?”

Harry crawled from the bed and held out his hand. Zayn took it, following him to the large mirror in the corner. Standing behind him, Harry rested his chin on Zayn’s shoulder. 

“Look.”

Zayn frowned looking at his naked reflection. 

“What am I looking at?”

“You,” Harry’s arms went around his waist. “Your beauty. Your softness. Your depth. That smile of yours. Those eyes-”

“Ah, we got ourselves a hopeless romantic.”

“Oh, you have no idea!” Harry responded with a proud smile and glistening eyes. His happiness made him younger. “I’m the kind that brings you flowers, breakfast in bed, lazy Sundays and…sweet,  sweet  loving. I will romance you to death, honey.”

“Never had breakfast in bed. Or a lazy Sunday.” 

Harry arched an eyebrow,

“That Ben guy you dated fucking sucks, let me tell you that.” Zayn let out a genuine cackle. “I mean, seriously, what kind of an idiot has  you by  his side, but does not take you breakfast in bed to then make sweet love to you? Stupid.”

“Would you do it?”

“Every day.”

“Hm…Those sweet empty promises everyone makes at the beginning of a relationship just to impress. It’s right up there with threesomes and oral sex every day.”

“ Who  are you dating that breaks these promises?” They laugh together again, standing in front of the mirror. “That’s not the kind of…  boyfriend , I am.”

The comment did not go unnoticed towards Zayn. He watched Harry through the mirror, seeing the obvious pride in his remark and expecting a response. 

“Now, you’re having some kind of post-end-of-five-years-celibacy-orgasm type of high.” 

Zayn walked away from the mirror and returned to bed. Harry stayed, put but turned to him with hands on his waist. 

“So, if I asked you to be my boyfriend right now, you’d say no?”

"A bit rushed, Harry-"

"W ould you ?"

Zayn sat up against the headboard. 

“Ask me.”

The driver looked at him for the longest time. They were measuring one another to see who would dare, to take such a bold step. in the end. Harry shook his head and headed to the bathroom. A teasing smirk on his lips.

“Moment’s gone now.” He responded, turning on the light and stepping inside. “I might've ended my celibacy, but I still got my wits about me."

"You mentioned the word, baby." Zayn teased. 

"I can't give up all the goods. Especially, if you say no to me-"

"I never said no-"

"And I never asked." Harry teased standing by the bathroom door. They had smirks on their faces and a glimmer in the eye that gave all the answers. "Would you ask me?"

Zayn tilted his head to the side. "Moments gone, you said."

Harry rolled his eyes, letting out a gentle scoff.

"Buy me dinner first."

“Only if you bring me breakfast in bed.”

"Deal...." Harry responded. "You'll be okay for a moment while I shower?"

"Or I can join you."

Slowly, Harry moved the door to a close, unable to hide the grin on his face.

"Only boyfriends get shower  privileges . I'm guessing Ben failed at that too." 

In the end, Harry did not close the door entirely, leaving it ajar as an unspoken invitation. Still, Zayn did not move; instead, he sat listening to Harry hum and sing under the warm water. 

"I'd say yes in a heartbeat..." Zayn whispered to himself. Completely away from Harry's ears.

****

If time flies by when we have fun, what does it do when the love is too good?

As Harry dozed off next to him, Zayn got up from the bed and went to the small bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, he saw that he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. 

Who would think that he’d be in this situation? Living a torrid moment with someone he just met. He couldn’t contain himself with excitement. Everything was quiet now; his mind was empty and his heart full. He couldn't quite explain the connection he felt towards Harry - it was indescribable. And ridiculous! 

He looked at Harry, who was in bed, with a hand draped over his face and the sheets over his body. He had dozed off for a moment, breathing slowly.

Seeing him like this made Zayn never want to leave.

He’d stay in that moment forever. 

He walked out of the bathroom, crawled to the bed, and lay next to Harry. Zayn was hungry again for him; wanting to give pleasure too. Have Harry completely bare and submissive to him. 

His hand ran down Harry’s body, sending the message. Zayn cupped his length, stroking him softly; It rested against his leg, completely numb, after the latest session. With gentle movements and a loose fist, he began moving up and down. Then, his fingers trailed down Harry’s sensitive area, feeling every inch of his skin. 

Slowly, Harry moved out of slumber, spreading his leg a bit more. Zayn moved his hand to the shaft and began pumping again. Harry hissed, taking a deep breath in, still with the arm over his face. Zayn amped the rhythm, resulting in a lazy moan. He moved in on Harry, kissing his chest and licking his nipples with a flat tongue, listening to another lazy moan.

“Zayn…” His lips moved again from that patch of skin, finding Harry looking down at him. The hunger visible on his face and completely his. His hand kept doing the work with a solid stroke, making Harry breathe hard through his mouth. “Fuck…”

Harry drowned a cry, gripping onto him and rolling his eyes closed.

“Tell me how it feels.”

“Good.”

“Yeah?” Zayn repeated. “What if I tighten it up a bit and move faster?”

Zayn closed his fist a bit more, amping the speed. Harry whimpered, holding onto his arm. He arched, bending his knees, and opening. 

“Fuck…”

“Better?”

“Yes…”

“Hmm…” Zayn kissed his neck, then moved his tongue on the skin and bit his earlobe. “I was good to you, wasn’t I, baby?”

“Yes.”

“Wanna be good to me?” 

“Yes,”

Their skins warm like fire, wanting nothing, but to get lost in that sea of pleasure. Zayn pushed the sheets aside, nestling against Harry. With both parts connecting, Zayn began mimicking a familiar motion with his hips, without breaking the entrance. 

Not yet. 

From the top, he saw Harry relax, by touching his hair, then his arms and lower back. There was no penetration yet, just the motion of it and they were already gasping for one another. Their kisses were sloppy, tongue on tongue, with warm breath knocking them out of their senses. 

Harry fell into the role of submission, completely open and completely Zayn’s.

A soft knock on the door brought them out of their moment. They both froze for a second, looking at the door.

“Are you waiting on someone?”  

“No,” Harry responded. “Let me check.”

“ Now?” 

“ I’ll be quick.” 

Zayn moved from the top, sitting down with his back against the headboard with a pout. He wasn’t happy with the interruption, so he kept a steady hand on himself, so the momentum wasn’t lost. Harry got up from the bed, put his boxers on and headed over to the door. He unlocked the door, then pulled it open and froze. 

From the bed, Zayn could not see and that left him more frustrated. 

“ Hi ,” He heard a feminine voice from the other side. He recognized the voice of the stripper that had sucked him off earlier. “I  figured you’d be hungry.”

“Thank you,” His movement was covered by the door momentarily and, when he came back into view, Zayn noticed Harry was holding a tray with covered plates. “Are you done for the night?”

“ Yes, it’s almost 04h00 am.” 

They had been in that room for hours and it didn’t seem enough. 

“I see,” Harry responded. “Thank you, again.”

Harry moved to close the door with his foot, but something blocked the movement. 

“Do you…Do you want company?”    

Immediately, Zayn paused his stroking. From where he was, the woman wouldn’t see him, but she knew he was there.

She had given him the work earlier. Sure, it had been…nice. But things had changed in the past hours. He didn’t care for anyone’s mouth, let alone hers. Not after having Harry’s mouth on him.

Zayn wanted her gone. 

Now. 

Harry turned to him. The driver noticed his closed-off face and immediately knew the answer. He turned to the woman and responded. 

“Sorry, darling. We’re good.”

Zayn thought she’d be gone. However, in a  bold  move, the woman leaned forward and kissed Harry on the lips. Zayn didn’t see her face completely, but he heard the sound. He closed his fists and creased his eyebrows even further. 

“If you change your mind, come find me, baby.” 

The woman walked away, and Harry closed the door with his foot. When he turned with the tray in hand, Zayn noticed the red imprint in his mouth. 

“She  kissed  you.”

“Just a small peck…” He replied, setting the tray on the little table by the door. Then, he made sure to wipe his lips with the back of his hand. “Nothing special.”

“Do women kiss you a lot?”

“Sometimes,” Harry responded, from a distance, while Zayn frowned again. “You’ve kissed women-”

“Not in front of you-”

“She gave you a  blowjob  in  front  of me.”

“That was different,”

“How so?”

Zayn tilted his head to the side, with darkened eyes. “We hadn’t made love yet.”

He saw Harry take a deep breath in, seeing the hunger gnawing under his skin. 

“It’s that what we’ve been making?” The room’s temperature rose slowly. “If it makes you happy, I can call her back and you can kiss her-”

“Stop teasing-”

“I’m not teasing-”

“Yes, you are. Do I look like I want to kiss her?”

“No,”

“What it does look like I want to do, baby?”

Zayn saw the response in Harry’s body, with his erection demanding release from his boxers. Harry crawled back into bed, moving slowly on all fours. Zayn watched as he approached, slowly, trembling all over and completely taken by this darkened dominance. 

“Is this you being jealous?”

“Yes,”

“Don’t want any other woman touching my lips.”

“ Nobody  else.”

“Does that mean…” Harry reached over, hovering over his lips. “That I’m yours, then?”

Zayn’s hand went to his hair, catching a hand of it and gripping it. The businessperson bit his chin, then licked his mouth.

“You said you were going to be good to me.”

“I am.”

“Take those  off…”  

“Why don’t you-”

Zayn cut him off, pulling his hair back and Harry cried. 

“Shut up. You’ve had your fun.” Zayn growled. “ Off.” 

Trembling all over, he took off his boxers, as Zayn shifted in his seat and called him closer. Harry hovered for a moment, with both his knees on each side of Zayn’s thighs. Zayn took him in his mouth again, sucking the life out of it. His mouth moved with skill and intensity this time using his hand to help. 

Zayn removed his mouth from Harry but, kept pumping with his hand looking up at him. 

“Sit on me, baby…” He demanded. Harry gasped, seeing his glistening cock in Zayn’s hand. “Let me give it to you.”

Spreading him open, Zayn helped Harry lower himself, taking his time and being patient. Zayn watched carefully, as he relaxed around his length. It felt amazing. Harry was tight and warm, but he kept pushing. He hissed, whimpering a little, but kept going like a champ.

Inch by inch. Going up and then further down on Zayn, in an exercise that was enticing and insane. Zayn kissed him all over, biting his pecks and licking his nipples, so he would be consumed by the pleasure. Once Harry had sat and relaxed around his girth, Zayn looked up, adoring his features. 

“Beautiful,” Zayn landed another kiss on Harry’s chest. “So good for me, baby.”

"Fuck..."

"Feels good inside of you?"

"Yes," Harry groaned. "Good. Gonna make love to me then?"

"I'll make anything with you."

The driver met his lips, wrapping his arms around him. Zayn pulled him closer, so they were locked in place. 

They began slowly, with lazy movements, creating a soft rhythm. Like a boat rocking in the ocean of pleasure; they moved as one, falling into one another’s eyes - occasionally kissing, licking lips, and rubbing tongues. 

He was completely gone into the pleasure wave, with lazy movements and gasps of pleasure. Zayn felt Harry’s hand grip his hair and soon he heard him.

“Fuck, honey…” Harry mumbled, with his eyes closed. “Fuck this is good...”

He kept going in a completely drunk sense. Making no sense. Mumbling cries and lazy words one after the other. Zayn saw him completely lost, with darkened eyes and nothing, but lust was coming off him. 

When Harry moaned a little louder, echoing in the room, they picked up the pace. The CEO looked up, seeing his new lover completely taken by the haze of sex; his body rolling on top of him like a vision of a sex god giving into temptation. 

“Fuck, baby…” Zayn moaned completely mesmerised by the idea of Harry taking all of him, all at once. “Look at you…You’re beautiful…”

Harry gripped Zayn’s hair, pulling his head back so his mouth was within reach. He felt Harry’s teeth on his lips, pushing him to pick up the pace. They were both panting with opened mouths, sexy sounds coming in and out, sounding the same.

Zayn bent his knees and then began moving his hips into Harry, making him cry in pleasure. 

“I’m crazy about you…” Harry confessed as the wave of pleasure hit him. “I’m going insane. What are you doing to me?  What  are you doing?”

Zayn smirked, pulling him closer and moving his hips.

“I’m making you mine, Harry. All mine….”

“Oh, shit….”

“And I’m yours. No one else’s. Got that? Say yes.”

“Yes.”

Zayn placed the hands on his hips, hitting Harry deep and making him jump on his cock.

“That’s it…” Zayn enticed, sitting back against the headboard. “Eat it up, baby.”

Harry pressed his hands against his chest, as he moved, and Zayn gripped his hips leaving a dent in the skin. 

Zayn’s eyes darted to the side, seeing their movements reflected in the mirror and he nearly lost his mind: Harry was taking all his size, without strain and ever so welcoming. Zayn placed his hands on the cheeks, spreading him open a bit further so he had a better line of vision. The image fuelled him to move deeper, and Harry's response was clear - he kept rolling curse words, groaning, and begging for him not to stop.

Zayn reached out his hand, clasping it around Harry’s neck and pulling him down towards his face. Harry sounded desperate. 

On the verge of madness and disconnecting. 

Completely taken. 

And Zayn fucking  loved it. 

“Yeah, moan for me. Come on.”

Drunk on this rough fucking, Harry replied in a complete fog. Now, that the bar was quiet and it was nothing, but silence, they sounded ever louder. It was nothing, but  motion . Their sounds vibrated off the walls, their sobs sounding eternal and their curse words full of weight. 

“Oh, fuck…” Harry mumbled one last time. “I’m…Oh..” 

Zayn looked down seeing Harry’s cock twitch and the first shot came out of his tip. 

“That’s it.”

“Zayn…shit…Oh, shit..”

“Come on, baby-” 

Zayn had heard and seen Harry orgasm on that night, but  never  like this. These sounds of submission were new, and Zayn loved to hear them. He wanted more. He wanted him to go as high as the sky. Screaming for him. Going mad with pleasure.

Harry cried louder, with his mouth open and eyes closed. He draped all over Zayn, painting over his dark tattoos with a light tone. Pleasure washed down, as he tilted over to the other side. 

Zayn wasn’t that far behind. “You’re too good…” Zayn whispered as the waves hit him deep. “Baby…” 

He orgasmed with force, disassociating from the action. 

When there was nothing left and they were both empty, Harry slid off him collapsing back into the bed. 

They are side by side, allowing the numbness to sink in. 

“We're in trouble…” Zayn confessed. He turned his head, finding Harry staring back with those green orbs full of him. "I think we’ve gotten ourselves into a big mess.”

“A  good  big mess.”

“The greatest mess of them all.” Zayn frowned for a moment. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”

“Why?”

“Afraid of waking up and you realising it was a mistake to sleep with your boss.”

“I’ve stolen cars and sold drugs, Zayn. Do you honestly think I’d draw the line at  sleeping  with you?” Harry responded with a chuckle. “You can go to sleep. I’ll be here in the morning. Zero regrets."

"Hopefully, we’ve found ourselves in some kind of time loop and we’d be doing this again and again.”

"Shagging all night?"

"And loving too."

Harry chuckled "We have a few hours before the sun comes up. Maybe we can break some sort of record." 

“I’d like that,” Zayn responded with a teasing smile. “I need to get my strength back, though. You’re heavy.”

Harry gasped dramatically. 

“Zayn!”

He chuckled in response, reaching over. “I’m joking, baby-”

“No, no…” Harry turned his back, facing the window “Bye. Go to sleep.”

Zayn pulled him back by the arm, then wrapped him in a tight embrace. Harry fell into his chest, nestling against him. 

“No, no…I want you close,” Zayn mumbled, against his forehead, smelling his curls. Harry looked up at him with eyes full of hope; His fingers brushed against his eyebrows, cupping his face, and taking in such a declaration. “I can't let you go after tonight."

Harry kissed him "You got me, Zayn."

"You," Zayn whispered looking into those green eyes. "On me. In me. Around me. All the time. Moaning my name. Sounding just like that...just for me."

“Now,  my  heart is about to fall out of my chest,” 

Zayn leaned in, kissing him softly and then rubbing his nose against his. 

“Then, it can join mine.”

“But we’ll be both heartless, honey.”

“No, baby…” Zayn responded, kissing him again. “Never heartless. Always  heartful ."

“Oh, and  I’m  the hopeless romantic.”

“I have some strokes of romance in me. I must confess…” Zayn brushed his nose on Harry's again. “I like you too.”

Harry showed him a warm smile. 

“Ah,” He responded. “How can I regret  anything  with a declaration like that? I’d have to be a fool."

Chapter Text

Five years ago

The Velvet had four rooms: Whiskey, Champagne, Rum, and Liquor. These rooms would be used by the dancers whenever a patron requested a special dance.

The patrons could attend by themselves with one or two girls or go as a group with several girls. There, the girls could rub off on them, sit on their laps and be all sweet like honey; however, the patrons could not touch the girls or entice them in any way. The rooms had cameras and bodyguards outside, to make sure no shenanigans happened outside of the lines. And the patrons were respectful.

Whenever it was one of Liam's girls going in the back, the cameras would be disconnected, and the light outside would turn off. As soon as the transaction was over, the room would be up and running.

However, at that moment, the room was being used by someone else. The ever-so-pretty Harmony, used her mouth on him with proficiency, loving the taste and feel of him. Her hand playing with herself, as she gave a show to her patron, who showed little to no reaction.

She was reaching the peak of pleasure, as her hand moved skilfully on her centre of pleasure, paired up with the movement of her mouth. Her high-pitched moan echoed around the room, her reflection copied and pasted all around the mirrors. With a mouth full she orgasmed all over herself and felt her mouth become bitter with his orgasm as well. Slowly, she came down focusing on herself. Feeling goddess-like and sensual, she looked at the man staring at her with green eyes and long curly hair. She drank all of him and licked him clean. It was delicious. He was delicious.

The woman got to her feet, picking up her thong from the carpet and running it up her legs, beneath her strapless short dress.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Harmony fixed her lipstick and her hair.

"Hey..."

Harmony turned around, hoping to see a face of devotion. Oh! Imagine if she was the one to win his heart. The other girls would die of envy!

Once she saw the reason he was calling, her heart grew cold. He had his hand stretched out with a few bills on it.

"Here."

It had been a job.

When Harry came up to her, talking her up and buying her drinks, Harmony genuinely believed he was interested in her - as Harmony. Harry was desired by all the girls and, unlike Liam who was always between someone's legs and was more than welcomed, Harry did not do it.

He was the grand jewel. The big prize.

Of course, there was a difference between a job and pleasure. The goal was not to just fuck Harry (which was a challenging task on its own), but instead to get him interested enough that he'd do it willingly and want to stay. That in the end, he wouldn't have money stretched out to her.

Harmony walked over and took the money.

"Thank you."

"That's for Liam," Harry responded. Then took another sum and handed it to her. "For you. I heard something about your payment for Uni being late. That might cover half of the semester."

"You didn't have to do that..."

Harry sat with his pants unzipped, legs parted with his deflated cock laying on the side while fishing for a cigarette.

"Don't make me regret it," He responded, with a cigar in his mouth. "Close the door on your way out, love."

And with that roll of cash in hand, but unable to achieve the goal, Harmony left Harry to his own devices.

After the stripper had gone, Harry stayed still in the Champagne all by his lonesome. Around him, the low beat of the music in the club kept him company as he smoked - he could hear the occasional laughter or conversation, but he was too distant to make anything of importance.

Staring at his reflection across the room, he saw himself as nothing at all: just a man with his skinny jeans undone, his cock now completely shrunken, and a black satin shirt opened at the chest showing his tattoos. Around his neck a thin necklace with the tip falling between his pecs, his long hair with lazy curls coming down the shoulders. He took the cigarette to his lips showing a hand full of golden rings, one bigger than the next.

Another day. Another week. Another month and year in the life of a criminal who, magically, managed to evade incarceration.

It was in the moments of quietness when Harry truly felt like he's had enough. When all the walls of cockiness, smugness and arrogance came down, he was his true self: just a man who turned left, instead of right.

Harry knew he couldn't continue like this, being this person, with these connections. He couldn't see the future ahead because he feared he didn't have one. Dreading the moment, the police would catch him in the middle of something or someone would put a hit out on him, but also...not minding because then it would mean it would be over.

This life would be over, and he would be able to just be. Be Harry.

Despite the danger, he never changed anything about his routine. Still leaving the house at the same time, driving the same car, and being in the same places. He was perfectly aware of how things could go wrong. Always looking at exit strategies, detours, and back alleys to where he could escape if he needed to. That little flicker of anxiety and cautiousness was the only thing keeping him awake.

The life was romanticised. Being a criminal was stressful, unappealing, dangerous, and downright a death wish. He had seen people go to jail, get shot, die, overdose, and be punched and kicked. He had seen it all and couldn't unsee it.

The only time he felt at peace with himself was when he was at home. Alone. Quiet. With a book, his old guitar and in total silence. That was Harry. The man staring back at him through the mirror with his cock out and a hand full of rings wasn't.

Harry wanted peace far away from there.

Mirror Harry had called a girl to suck him off because he was bored.

Harry wanted to love completely and be loved.

Mirror Harry couldn't be arsed and didn't dare to open those doors inside his heart.

A knock on the door took him out of his funk.

"What?"

"Are you done? We need the room."

Harry placed the cigarette between his lips and fixed himself and his clothes. Standing in front of the mirror, he ran his fingers through his hair away from his face and fixed his black shirt with rolled-up sleeves. When he opened the door, he caught two men with four girls eagerly waiting to get in.

"Enjoy, gentleman..." Harry greeted.

He walked into The Velvet which was roaring with life. Strippers on poles, drinks being poured by the lovely staff and money exchanging hands. It was a full house - another night of decadence and addiction.

Unlike other crime lords who would bask in their shit, Harry's vices were alcohol, cigarettes and the occasional one-night stand. With a drink in hand and a cigarette on his lips, he sauntered down to the floor seeing some familiar faces. He shook hands, welcomed a few guests, and bought a few rounds. As he walked closer to the poles, he'd leave money for the dancer and leave them with a smile.

"Aren't you loved?"

Harry looked over his shoulder, finding Xander standing close by.

"Problem?"

"I saw you going with Harmony to a room."

"Yeah, I needed to blow off some steam."

"With her."

"She's good. And she needed the money."

Xander's face hardened.

"You never call me anymore."

"Xander, please..." Harry rolled his eyes, walking away from him. Xander kept following him around like a cat following his owner. "I'm not doing this with you. You're a big boy."

"I just thought I meant more to you-"

"You don't. You never did. I've told you."

"I'm just a quick shag-"

"Yup."

"Even though, I'm protecting you."

Harry stopped turning to face the man. He placed a finger on his chest, making a point.

"First of all, I don't need protection. I got it. Second, I told you until you learn how to cool off, you're a liability-"

"Because I smacked a bunch of kids around."

"Because you punched someone at an important meeting. Now, I must go back looking humble, to get something out of it. You do it all the time and it will get all of us killed if you don't get your shit right." Harry responded. "And honestly, I'm not going down for you."

Xander's face faltered for a moment. The man looked around, before whispering his next words.

"What if I love you?"

"Xander, please. I got better shit to do."

Harry moved away from Xander, but he held on to his arm. He kept a firm grip on Harry, pulling him closer.

"Let's spend the night together-"

"Get your hand off me."

Feeling like the little boy he was, Xander retrieved his hand from Harry.

Harry walked up the stairs, drink in hand and cigarette in lips heading towards the office. He peeked down seeing Xander looking up at him with pleading eyes, but he made sure to ignore it. Fucking hell - what a fucking mistake that was.

As he got into the office, he found Liam sitting on Louis's chair with a pretty woman in his lap.

"Out, Jasmine," Harry ordered.

"Oi!" Liam called out. "No need for that tone with her."

"Now," Harry ordered again with a death glare.

Liam padded Jasmine on her thigh and the pretty girl got up, heading out of the office. Harry slammed the door behind her and began pacing.

"This better be good-"

"Am I the only one who sees the maniac we have in our team?"

"Who?"

"Xander!"

"Harry, not this again..." Liam moaned, falling back on the chair. "So, he has a temper. Let him be."

"He's walking around with a gun!"

"So am I! So is half the staff. It's his job. Stop. Come here..." Liam pushed the chair across from his desk, inviting him to sit. "Sit down. Relax. Everything is fine. The Serbians agreed to our partnership, we are moving good stuff, and money is coming in. All is good. Xander is the least of your problems."

"He said he loved me." Harry sat down, drowning the last of his drink down his throat "Like...what?"

"Oh, mate...sorry about that. If it makes you feel better, half the girls are in love with me."

"How does that make me feel better?"

Liam shrugged. "It doesn't. I just wanted to brag a little. But, if you have any doubts, they all want you."

"Liam, I don't want anyone to want me. I want to be left alone."

"I'm just saying..."

The conversation ended, with Liam sitting back on Louis's chair with his feet on the table and a drink in hand. If Louis caught him sitting like that, there would be hell to pay.

"Have you ever thought..." Harry began, testing the water with his friend. "About leaving the life."

"Leaving?" Liam repeated. "Like what, become a civilian?"

"Yes."

"Pay taxes, rent, commute and have a 9 to 5?"

"Yes." Liam blinked for a moment, then burst out laughing as if Harry had told the world's greatest joke. "All right, never mind-"

"No, no, no...wait..." Liam sat up, cleared his throat, and became serious. "Let's analyse this: you're asking me if I'd ever give up good pussy, good money, crazy cars, and a sick apartment in downtown London to have a boring 9 to 5, making minimum wage - during a recession, mind you - to which I must commute forty-five minutes to an hour by train or bus from my tiny little house to a job that I fucking hate. Is that what you're asking me?"

Harry didn't' confirm nor deny his intent, since Liam was so adamant about making a joke out of it. Instead, Liam leaned forward with intertwined fingers and a tilted head.

"Would you?"

"It was just a question-"

"Every question has a reason to be, Harry. You want to walk out?"

"No-"

"Because Louis won't let you just walk out," Liam added. "It's always been the three of us. If you need some time off to... I don't know...go fishing or plant a tree, go do it. But the life is the life. We're in it. The only way out is a prison-"

"Or death."

"Yes," Liam added. "But no one in this city will dare to put a bullet in you or me. So, prison it is."

"Accidents do happen. We are not immune to them, Liam."

"Jesus..." Liam leaned back on the chair. "You're extra annoying today. I thought Harmony did an excellent job sucking you dry."

"How do you know that?" Liam pointed to the monitors in the corner, displaying the internal CCTV fee. It showed the group that occupied the Champagne having fun. "Great, you were watching me getting my cock sucked."

"Oh, baby I didn't watch a thing. I was getting mine." Liam sneered. "Also, please don't go paying extra. Don't get them ideas."

"She needed money for tuition."

"Then, she should work harder," Liam added. "It's bad enough that there's a prize for your heart. I don't need you making them not depend on it."

"A prize on my heart?"

"Harry, for God's sake..." Liam moaned, rolling his eyes. "My girls want you, okay? Not for physical stuff... They want you to love them and they want to love you. They believe it's in their destiny to save you from the life and for you to make an honest woman out of them. You're Prince Charming, baby. All the pussy in the kingdom is throbbing for you."

"I don't want pussy..."

"I know." Liam sneered. "You like a big fat-"

"Can we talk about something else?" Harry interrupted, with furrowed brows. "Where's Lou?"

"He went to meet Cheryl."

"Why would he meet with our informant?"

"I believe we have the police on our backs again and she tipped him off."

"Shouldn't you be doing the talking to her?"

Liam scoffed. "Please, Cheryl and I are more than over. We are dead and done."

"Does she know that?"

"I hope she does..." The man shrugged. "Either way, not my problem."

****

Louis pushed the door of his car and entered The Velvet. He was fuming and had a clenched jaw over the news he had heard.

Everything should be going fine.

They had money, and a good network, the heroin was flying from place to place at a good pace. Everyone was happy. He had accomplished the deal of the century, with other businessmen just like, just to have it all fucked up. It was enough to make him blow up the world.

Louis had to mature young. After suffering great losses in his family, he quickly knew he had to grow up and provide. He could've gotten a job, like any other citizen, but that would take time. He didn't have time.

He was the head of the house and needed to look after his younger ones. Alongside Harry and Liam, he began jacking cars for Melissa - old cars, new cars, didn't matter - they would all be torn down to pieces and sold for parts.

However, all it took was stealing the car from the wrong person to introduce him to a new world. An older man who showed him an insidious world of drugs and how he could benefit from them. This Old Man saw in him potential that went way beyond stealing cars. The Old Man saw in Louis a hunger for success and a vision that he had when he was young. He took Louis under his wing, pushing him into his organisation and soon Louis was working. Of course, it was just selling cheap and not-so-good weed, but the money was better than anything he had ever done with Melissa.

Seeing his numbers, and the hunger in him, the Old Man pulled Louis aside, giving him another product: the purest of heroin.

The purest in the market, the man said. Louis believed him. He never tried it, though. According to the man, trying your shit was the first step for the entire thing to sink.

Let the audience taste it. You watch. That's it. The man explained.

Louis rose amongst the ranks, creating a name for himself as a bold young man, who took no shit home and wouldn't back down from a fight.

Surround yourself with people you trust. Smart. Intuitive. Respectful. Mostly, people you know can stab you in the back. At least, you can see it coming and stab first.

So, Liam and Harry came along. Quickly he began making money; more money and way faster than anything he had made while stealing. The transition was easy for him, one crime for another. 

Liam took the reins easily, completely falling into the role of Louis' strong arm. He adapted easily and adored the cars, the women, and the jewellery. 

However, for Harry, it was a little bit more difficult. He was too good for certain things. It took him a while to understand that the money (and risk!) came with the drugs. Harry had heart, and soul and would rather talk things out than claw his way out.

The Old Man trusted and adored Louis like a son. Louis was always at his side, his confidant and the first person he'd ask for an opinion in the room. If Louis said no, it would be not then. If he said yes, the man would follow. As the man got older, Louis gained increased power within the organisation. An obvious battle for the head began with the Sergeants wanting and believing they could succeed the old veteran, who ruled the London underground. 

Louis never raised a voice or showed hunger publicly - but he knew the Old Man favoured him. Louis had been tested in all sorts of ways: from being sent to teach someone a lesson or threaten another or destroy something. All these tests, he passed with distinction, responding to whatever the Old Man wanted.

So, when the old gangster died, the young Tomlinson took control. Those who accepted him as the boss got their share, those who didn't...well, were made too. The Old Man taught him to take no shit, to move forward with confident strides and chin held high. There were a lot of dissidents, who saw Louis as a young boy, with no guts. Louis resolved that quickly.

It was a dark period in his time. Where the anger to prove himself was too much and he hunted everyone who didn't believe in him. He went around the city teaching lessons and taking names. As himself, not by proxy. He wanted to make clear there was another king in town, and he wasn't for fuckery.

"You're covered in blood..." Harry noticed when he saw Louis wipe his face with a wet towel. His clothes were spattered with blood and so were his jeans. "Are you proud of yourself?"

Louis grabbed the towel and ran it under the faucet.

"Am I proud of nearly killing a man with a baseball bat because he wouldn't respect me? No. Did I have to do it? Absolutely. Would I do it again? Without question."

Harry approached his friend, grabbed the towel, and squeezed the water out. Then, he grabbed Louis's hand and began wiping his knuckles.

"If you say so."

"I wish you were there with me."

"I promised I'd never do that again," Harry replied, wiping Louis's hand softly. "I meant it."

"What am I to do with you, then?"

Harry shrugged "Whatever you want. If you want me out, kick me out. If you want me to stand beside you, I'll stand."

Louis latched his hand around Harry's neck, facing him directly.

"Understand this: I'm at the top of the mountain now. I'll protect you, always. I'll always be there. No one will lay a finger on you or Liam. I promise you. I got your backs." Louis insisted. "But, I can't have you being soft or weak next to me. You don't want to close your fists and hit, that's fine, but don't make me question whether you're with me or not."

Louis saw Harry's internal battle happening. This was the tipping point, would Harry stand beside him or would he have to let go of his best friend?

"I'm with you, Louis," Harry answered. "Always."

"You're my best friend," Louis repeated. "I'll look out for you. I promise."

"I'm here, but don't ask me for violence. "

"I won't. I just want you with me."

Beating someone up, burning this or destroying that, were a few of the tests he had to endure to get a name for himself. Shooting, stabbing, jumping, and threatening became a part of his repertoire of actions. He wasn't fond of doing it. Seeing blood drip from his hands was not a funny feeling and he'd rather be regarded as quietly violent, than outrageously irate.

As soon as everything was quiet and everyone knew who he was, Louis took a backseat. He pushed Liam and his soldiers as the muscle and Harry as the brain. It worked simply fine.

They had money.

They had connections.

Everything should be going perfectly.

Then why the fuck was all at risk of crumbling down like a deck of cards?

****

Louis walked into The Velvet, bubbling with live and perfect women on stage. He noticed a woman waiting for him at the bar. He signalled her to follow up the stairs to his office and she did.

Without thinking, he pushed the door to his office, finding Liam and Harry chatting.

"Cheryl?" Liam asked, seeing the inspector behind Louis. The boss came in, taking off his coat. "What are you doing here?"

"Liam. Harry."

Cheryl worked for the Metro police as an inspector - but, not necessarily a good one. She was on Louis's payroll and informed them of whatever investigations coming their way, so they'd have time to move. Thanks to her, in the many years of actions, Louis, Liam and Harry had dodged many bullets. Without saying a word, the inspector sat on the chair next to Harry.

"Close the door, Hazza," Louis begged, taking a seat behind the desk.

Harry got up, closing the door, muffling the noise coming from the club. At first, Louis didn't say a word. He looked at his two friends, then fished a cigarette. He lit it up and blew smoke in the air with his knee trembling under the table. 

Seconds later, he reached for the phone on the desk and dialled 0.

"Bring me, Xander." He ordered, before ending the call.

"Louis, what-"

The boss raised his finger demanding silence from Harry. They sat in silence for the following minutes. Below them, The Velvet came alive as another girl went on stage. Soon enough, the door opened and Xander appeared.

"You wanted-"

"Shut the fuck up and sit down." Louis barked. Xander walked into the office, closing the door behind him. He moved to a chair in the corner taking a seat, under everyone's attentive gaze. Then, Louis turned to Cheryl and demanded. "Tell them what you've told me, Cheryl."

Cheryl sat calmly, with hands on her lap and her badge dangling from her neck.

"There's a massive international investigation happening. Interpol, Europol, Metro...All the institutions you can name, are working together to end this drug traffic syndicate that is happening across continents - a system that you're part of. It's a major operation that has been going on for months. They have all your names on file and all your connections. Photographs, voice conversations, phone calls, car licences, prints, DNA...whatever you think they don't have, they do.'

'They are ready to throw the book at you, send you all to jail and torch the building with all of you inside." The inspector announced with a dry tone, staring back at Louis. Liam and Harry exchanged worried looks, already prepared for the next move. "Aside from that, an interesting detail occurred in the last 48 hours that might complicate things for you."

The detective went into the pocket of her coat and retrieved three photographs. The first one, she sat on the table. It was a mugshot of a man.

"Any of you know this gentleman?"

Liam leaned forward looking at the man. He pondered, as he looked at the photograph; First from far and then coming up close.

"Never seen that geezer."

Harry came next. At first, he didn't recognize the man. Then, something flashed in his mind. He had seen that face before.

Harry grabbed the picture, pulling it close to his face. Another flash and he remembered him.

Instinctively, he turned to the corner seeing Xander sitting down and white as a sheet. He had seen the picture.

Harry showed him the picture in detail, giving him a death glare.

"What did you do, Xander?"

****

When it came to meetings with other organisations Harry was always sent by himself. First, because he insisted on it, and he knew how to de-escalate any situation. Second, it was a demonstration of goodwill and trust from Louis. Third, and the most detrimental, a clear warning: Harry was important. He had to go in alive and come back out alive. If Harry went missing, that was war. If Harry was hurt, injured or worse, dead, it was war.

Harry was important.

It was an unspoken rule that everyone respected and understood. Harry was always the level-headed one, the respectful one and, to a certain extent, cared for. If there was one thing criminals admired, it was the power to stand cool and collected in the middle of chaos.

As the black Aston Martin rolled into the warehouse, Harry was nervous. Not because of the second approach to these Serbians, but because Xander insisted on tagging along again. Not because Louis told Xander to - he would never ask such a thing. But, because of the feelings, he carried for Harry. Such intense feelings made Xander act out of madness. All it took was someone to look at Harry the wrong way and he was on them like a dog - it was that impulsivity that nearly ended the first encounter when he punched that one man.

Harry stopped the car at the entrance of the warehouse under the pouring rain. In front of him, two gigantic doors slowly parted so he could come in. The rain was so intense that, even with the windshield wipers, visibility was difficult. Next to him, Xander took out his gun and checked the clip.

"For fucks sake..." Harry rolled his eyes. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

"I'm looking out for us," Xander responded, checking the gun side to side. "I got you."

"I don't need you to get me, Xander. I know what I'm doing. I've been doing it for years."

Xander kept the gun at his side, hidden behind his leg. He kept looking out, prepared for anything that could happen.

"If shit goes south, you're going to be glad I'm here."

"Jesus Christ, you fuck a guy a couple of times and all of a sudden you're in a relationship."

"Wasn't a couple-"

"Shut up!" Harry snapped back. "I know what this is. You think I haven't had others like you following me around like a puppy? I repeat what I've told you, and them, a million times: I don't want you. I don't want anybody. I'm fine by myself."

"Rolling from bed to bed."

"And I'm very happy doing it. The sooner you get that and get off my cock, the better."

The gates rolled open and a man came out and signalled Harry to come in.

"One day, you're going to have to let your guard down and let someone, in," Xander responded, as the car went into the warehouse. "One day."

Harry did not bother him with a response. It was unnecessary. Xander was so infatuated with him that it became annoying. He didn't understand the concept of 'casual' and 'non-attachment'. The girls would cry and pout but understand that it was what it was. To other men, it could sting the pride a little, but they'd move on after the second conversation.

Not Xander.

Xander held on to Harry's leg. Hovering around him. Hoping on his hands and knees that Harry was bored enough to spread him open.

It had been a mistake. A terrible mistake.

However, he couldn't afford to think about it. He had business ahead. It was the second time meeting these Serbians and it needed to go silky smooth. Louis had agreed to the terms and now it was Harry who had to present them - the first meeting had been a bit rocky with Xander throwing punches, but now they were here to conclude what was left. This needed to be done now. The longer these deals and conversations dragged out, the less profitable it would become for each part.

They got out of the car, walking towards another man as the warehouse gates rolled closed behind them with a shriek.

The man was tall, muscular and with a bald head. He had a mask on his face, more for aesthetics and mystery, rather than any security protocol. Harry opened his arms, ready to be padded down. Aside from some money in his pockets, they found nothing: no guns and no knives.

When it came Xander's turn, the man found the gun behind his waist. He showed it to the soldier, who seemed unconcerned, while Harry cursed himself. The man removed the clip for Xander's pistol, sat it aside and then gave the skeleton back empty. Completely useless.

"Follow me."

Harry walked ahead, with Xander behind. They followed the man who led them deeper into the abandoned warehouse. Outside the rain poured so intensely into the night, its noise was deafening. London was drowning.

The man stopped by a door and welcomed them inside. Harry continued ahead, into a gigantic open space with soaring ceilings and beams above their heads. He saw a man, the boss, sitting on a chair waiting for him, while surrounded by his guards. There were at least twenty of them. All with guns. All with masks. All big and threatening.

"Josef," Harry greeted with a smile, standing at a safe distance.

The man had an orange in his hand, peeling it absentmindedly.

"Harry." He greeted me with a hoarse voice. The man was fat, his fingers draped with golden rings. He wore a ridiculous black fur coat, with leather shoes (completely disconnected from London weather) and his big belly protruding over his big belt buckle. The man had his eyes glued on the orange he kept peeling, letting the peels fall on the floor. He didn't raise his eyes. "I see you brought him. Again."

Harry kept cool. Kept calm.

"I couldn't find a babysitter."

"Maybe the baby should wait in the car, then?" The man asked, without wanting an answer. Another peel fell on the floor. "So, we can talk like men?"

"He'll behave."

"You said that last time." The man shook his head to the side. Next to him, another man removed his mask and showed a black eye. "Jeroen almost went blind with that punch."

The tension was palpable, but Harry had it. Josef liked him. He knew he could smoothly talk him to death. What he needed was to bend the knee now and do the mea culpa, so they could get on to business.

"An unfortunate event," Harry lamented. He looked at the injured man, with the most honesty known the man and a hand over his heart. "It won't happen again. My apologies."

The man lowered his mask, standing by his boss. Josef raised his eyes at Harry - boy, didn't they love a show of humility now and then.

"You're a gentleman, Harry."

"Thank you." He responded with a soft bow. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get to business. London in the rain is awful."

"Please do."

The arrangement was simple: The drugs would be coming in through the London port in a cargo shipment. The cargo would be registered to carry all kinds of devices like cameras, lenses, microwaves, phones, radios, and TVs - all destined to be sold in local markets. All legit. With proper paperwork from a legit manufacturer in Serbia. The product would be hidden inside the cans, in a hidden compartment.

The shipment would be coming in at a specific time, on a specific day, to be handled by a specific group of workers at the port and not be bothered by a specific group of police and security. The shipment wouldn't disappear - that would be too obvious and flag the entire operation. Instead, the team of dock workers would work quickly to remove the product from the compartment, place it in bags, and roll it to a car that would be waiting. It would have to happen in the dead of night, quietly, swiftly. They had done it before. They had remarkable success and so far, never been caught. The operation ran smoothly.

The conversation between Harry and Josef ran smoothly. Percentages, risks, profit. Numbers coming back and forth. Harry pressed gently, dancing around Josef and slowly making him understand, and agree, to what he had to offer. A 60-40 arrangement (London would be taking all the risk) with a small percentage on top of everything sold.

While Harry romanced Josef, Xander noticed something odd. Standing behind Harry he began to scavenge the place with his eyes. Quickly, he understood they were at a disadvantage.

Josef and his crew had the other entrance behind them, with opened doors to the outside. A quick escape. Several hiding spots too, in case of shit hitting the fence, he could take cover before getting into the car. As for Harry and Xander, they were far away from their car, deep into the warehouse, there was no cover until they reached that small door they came through. Until then, they would be slaughtered.

As his mind fired these quiet and real scenarios. He noticed something. A few members of the crew had moved. Men that were ahead of him when he arrived, were now slightly behind his shoulder. On both sides. Standing there like statues, holding their guns and with masked faces. Fingers on the trigger.

He knew what this was, and his impulsivity spoke louder.

"What the fuck are you doing?" His voice boomed. Harry snapped his head back, seeing Xander looking at the new disposition. "Are you surrounding us?"

"Xander-"

"Look!" Xander pointed out. "They were there and now they're back here. What, you're going to shoot us in the back?"

"Harry..." Josef called with a hint of impatience. "This is no good. What is he trying to say?"

Xander zeroed in on the same man he had punched before.

"You're going to kill us, aren't ya?" The man pointed his gun at Xander's chest and all the others clicked theirs too. Xander walked right up to him, so the end was hitting him dead in the centre. "Go on."

"Everyone stop!" Harry yelled, his voice booming with thunder. "I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding-"

"Harry, they're behind us. They were going to attack you-"

"Everyone, please, lower your weapons," Harry begged smoothly. None of them moved, so he turned to Josef - they were so close to finishing this on a good roll. "Please. You know what this means if we...if I get hurt. Josef, be smart."

The man leaned forward and pointed his fat finger at Xander.

"Him. Out."

Without missing a step, Harry grabbed Xander by the arm and pulled him away. They were followed by a handful of men, who were there to assure that Xander was set on his way. With a firm grip, fingers tight around his bicep, he kept dragging the soldier. As soon as they were out of shot, Harry pushed Xander against the wall.

"You nearly got us killed. Twice now." He growled with a death stare. "I am done having you around. Get the fuck out."

Harry moved away, but Xander pulled him back with a rush of breath and a wild stare.

"I love you. I would die if anything ever happened to you-"

Harry gripped his cheeks, pushing Xander's head against the wall.

"I promised myself I'd never raise a hand again. Don't make me break my promise and send you home with a broken jaw."

Harry pushed him back, then headed back to conclude his business. A few of Josef's men followed him inside, but one - the same one Xander had punched earlier - lingered his eyes on Harry. Then, he looked back at Xander and winked.

"See you soon," He responded, with a tease.

"Not if I see you first," Xander growled back.

****

"Did..." Harry looked at the picture again with a frown. "Did something happen to him?"

"Yeah," Cheryl posted the following picture showing a dead body washed up on the river Thames. "Two days ago."

"Shit..." Liam mumbled, walking away.

"Yeah, guess what..." Cheryl dropped another picture of a bullet next to a ruler. "We found that on him. Not as a wound. Inside his stomach." The investigator looked up at Harry, then at Xander. "As in, he swallowed the bullet before dying."

Suddenly, Harry went deaf and blind with rage. This was a problem. This was a fundamental problem that could jeopardise everything. This was Xander's signature - he loved to play with his food and play silly games. Everyone knew so. He would always do this stupid little game whenever he was looking to intimidate others.

"In case it is not clear enough..." Cheryl underlined. "This man is tied to the Serbians, with whom you have a deal, Louis. Also, they are connected to the investigation, of course.'

'This man showing up dead by one of yours brings you a lot of trouble and puts the city in danger; in the same way that everyone in the business knows not to fuck with Harry and Liam, that one was one of Josef's protégés. And if I made this connection, I guarantee they will too..."

"Is there any proof that can tie Xander to this?" Liam asked. "Aside from the bullet? Anyone could swallow the bullet and make it look like him."

"The city is crawling with CCTV - I bet if I pull something around that area, I'll see Xander wandering about with our floater, won't I Xander?" Cheryl looked at him and the young man looked at the floor. "I mean, it's a matter of time. 2+2 = a bunch of them walking in here and making a mess. I don't want that. Do you?"

Louis looked at the pictures on the table, trying to control his anger. He opened his mouth trying to talk, but nothing came out.

It was bad.

It could be bad.

Then, he stopped. He looked at Xander, who still hadn't said a word.

Louis moved his eyes to Cheryl, who waited patiently for his next move. His mind was tweaking and pondering a plan. He put out the cigarette on his ashtray.

"Leave."

"Louis, we need to sit down and think about this-"

"That's what I'm doing, Harry." He responded. "Leave. All of you. And Xander..." He called. "You better not fucking move an inch until I call you. Got it?"

The three of them abandoned the room, leaving Cheryl and Louis together. The boss fished for another cigarette, as he tried to make sense of what was happening at that moment. With a cigarette in his mouth, Louis closed his eyes seeing the board ahead. The next move was clear.

"What are you thinking?"

Louis opened his piercing blue eyes.

"Calculating the odds of that murder coming back to us."

"I work for you. You don't think there's someone on the inside working for them?"

"If they know we killed one of them, it's a bloodbath."

"We can't have a gang war in London, Louis. That's insane. I can't protect you if that happens." Louis placed the cigarette between his lips, taking a slow drag. He closed his eyes again, thinking as the seconds ticked by. "Give me something. Substantial. Game-changing. Something that can close that murder and that can slow the investigation."

Louis got up from his seat. He paced about the office, with a cigarette in his head and smoke in the air. He did a full turn, before ending up by the window overlooking the street.

"I'll give you Xander. Close the murder. I'll even add a few kilos to the mix."

But Cheryl didn't move. Instead, she tilted her head to the side and squinted a bit.

"Huh." She commented. Louis turned to find her with a frown. "Not what I expected."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, matter-of-factually and at this moment, yes you giving me Xander is the best move. The Serbians are looking for whoever did this, it's a dead body and it needs an author...Easily solvable case. Sure, it makes sense. However,...Is it the best move strategically?"

"What the fuck are you on about?"

"Listen, far from me to tell you how to run your business, but I believe you should look at the game through a broader spectrum," Cheryl responded. "Give me Harry, instead."

Louis paused with the cigarette between his fingers burning away, waiting for her to continue.

"Look at it this way: You give me Xander, I pin this on him, and he goes to jail. He's a child, Louis. A hot-headed child, who thinks he can swim in the big pool. He won't talk to us, won't cooperate - not our ideal partner, if you wish. He'll get into some fight and will probably end up stabbed in the cafeteria or hung in the showers in a week. Dead. Case closed on the murder, the Serbians might rest easy (an eye for an eye type of thing), your relationship with them is ruined and, the worst part, the international investigation on your crime syndicate continues. And, a week later, you are occupying his cell. Your empire crumbles. Your friends are in jail, or worst, dead. All of this goes away. Sure, yes, at this moment, Xander is your best shot.'

'However, if you want to be in the game for the long run and perhaps take away competition or two, you'll give me Harry."

Louis arched an eyebrow "Harry?"

"He's smart, collected and...most importantly, he's connected to all the other organisations. He knows people. People know him. Names, dates, places. He has intel on operations in detail. If he goes to jail, he'll blend right in, no one will mess with him. He's the perfect whistle-blower..." She announced with a shrug. "Give me Harry, a few good kilos in a truck...and the investigation will turn to someone else. If Harry helps, we might not even touch you because you were so kind. We all win: the police look nice because we caught one of the heads of the beast and did a major bust, while you get a clean field for you to become the sole and only player. You'll get the monopoly."

"Why not Liam?"

The woman scoffed "Liam would close, leave you and start a side business inside the jail trading pretty boys. He's loyal to his cause. When it stops being interesting, he dips."

"Are you talking about the case or yourself?"

Cheryl exhaled, not letting the comment get to her.

"Harry is the solid answer. He's loyal. He'll understand. He'll be hurt, but...he'll get it." Cheryl added. "And you'll make it look nice for him as well: give him protection, a share of whatever you make until he comes out, protect his family...Put this betrayal of yours in a nice pretty bow for him..." The investigator looked at him. Louis's lack of response and overall reaction made her question whether this plan wasn't an entirely new thought. 

Louis didn't answer at first. It made perfect sense. Harry was the best course of action.

"Get him a deal," He ordered, walking back to the desk. "Short-term vacation. One year."

"Impossible." Cheryl scoffed. "If we catch him in the act with the drugs, he'll do a minimum of ten. Impossible to go lower than that."

"Five," Louis responded. "Solid number. Good term period. He'll get anything he needs."

"Possibly. Will he talk to us?"

"He's smart," Louis responded, leaning back. "He'll say whatever if it gets him out. As for the drugs...you'll get your truck."

"Good."

"But we are left alone, Cheryl. No one touches us. We give up our advantage if that saves our asses."

"What do I do with Xander, then?" Cheryl asked. "Cold case?"

"We'll send Xander away for a moment - keep him underground. As for your floater, he was a fucking drug dealer, Cheryl. Pin it on a deal gone wrong, be creative. Get rid of the CCTV and the bullet. Dead end."

Cheryl got up from her seat, fixing her coat. Louis opened the drawer and handed her an envelope. The woman opened it, counting the money quickly.

"When?"

"Two hours,"

"I'll let my team know."

The woman came out of the office, leaving the young boss by himself. Never in a million years would Louis assume he'd have to let one of his friends go and stab him in this matter. He got up pacing about the room. He was sorry.

He knew he was being a shitty friend and Harry wouldn't understand it easily.

But he needed to look at the bigger picture.

The boss came out of his office with a resolution. He walked down the second floor overlooking the pulsating club, down the steps and found the manager.

"Send everyone home. We're done."

As Louis headed to the bar, the lights came on and the music stopped. The boss grabbed a bottle of vodka, with a glass and set it on the bar. The DJ announced that the club would be closing immediately, and everyone should leave.

 In a matter of seconds, the girls left the poles, and the patrons picked up their ties and blazers and walked out of the bar. Some sober, others swaying a bit.

Looking at his glass, Louis poured himself a shot and flipped it in his mouth. Then, another. And a third one. When he sat the bottle down, the club was already empty. Liam and Harry appeared, standing on the other side of the counter, and patiently waiting for what he wanted to do next. Louis didn't raise his eyes from the shot glass, keeping it in his focus. Harry was standing right in front of him.

"Where's Xander?"

"I sent him home," Liam answered. "Tomorrow we'll ship him off somewhere for a season."

"Good," Louis responded. "Keep him on a tight leash, Liam. I don't want to hear a peep from that tosser."

"Certainly."

"He fucked us..." Louis added, pouring himself another glass. "And we will deal with it the best way we know how."

"What if the Serbians ask about him?"

Louis grabbed the glass and then drank again. "They won't."

Liam and Harry traded a look, unsure of what he meant by it, but didn't press any further.

"Do we have any deliveries tonight?"

"No. Only tomorrow." Liam answered.

"Move it up to tonight," Louis announced. "Got a request across the channel for a big delivery"

"Why?" Harry asked, as ever so curious and smart. "We don't even have the team who works the channel or the police on deck tonight. Who asked for this?"

"Frenchie."

"We just sent a batch two days ago and we haven't seen the money from that. That sounds dangerous." Louis looked at him, seeing those beautiful green eyes and dark curls falling off his shoulders. His best friend. His mate. Being sent to slaughter without an idea. "I wouldn't do it if I were you. It sounds like a scam."

"You're not me, are ya?"

"No," Harry responded. "But you told me to always give you the best advice and guide you in the right direction. That's my job. I wouldn't do it."

"I don't have a choice," Louis answered simply. He turned to the glass again, pouring himself another glass. "Frenchie is good. We've known each other for years-"

"When did he talk to you? Why now on such short notice when he just got a batch two days ago?"

"Just now. He called me-"

"He would've called me-"

"Fucking hell, Harry!" Louis snapped back. "We're doing it. That's it. Fucking get me a truck, full of product and drop it at the warehouse. Simple. Quick. Now!"

Silence fell between the trio. In the end, Harry nodded, visually displeased with the course of action.

"I'll get the truck ready," Liam suggested.

"No," Louis cut him off. "Harry will do it."

"Why?" Harry asked.

Louis slammed his hand on the counter.

"Because I said so, that's fucking why!" Then, he pointed it at Harry. "Fucking question, me again and you will regret it. Do it now!"

Harry kept his eyes on his friend, facing his blue eyes with the same intensity.

"We're best friends, right Lou?"

Louis held his stare.

"It's just a job, mate. A simple task."

Harry got the message. He grabbed the bottle, poured himself a glass and then held it. He looked at the glass for the longest time, then raised it at Louis.

"To you, Lou."

Harry drank the shot, all at once. He padded Liam on the back, grabbed his coat and headed out of the club. Louis didn't dare watch him go, instead, he poured himself another shot, wanting to drown the level of his betrayal.

Liam watched him closely and without saying a word, grabbed another glass, pouring himself a shot for himself.

They sat together drinking in silence.

****

A couple of hours later, they had moved from the bottle to one of the sofas closest to the stage. Louis kept drinking, replaying his choice in his mind, and dreading the confirmation. It was the right choice. The most strategic choice. His empire was protected. Even if it had cost him a friend.

Liam's phone rang and he picked it up. The conversation was short and straight to the point. He ended the call, setting the phone aside,

"Harry's been arrested,"

Louis inhaled, feeling dizzy from the vodka. Deep down, he was sorry Harry had to go. He was truly regretful. He'd hand over Xander in a heartbeat, but at that moment, Xander was valuable to keep around - even if for his silence. There was nothing to be extracted from the little shit. Harry was a necessary piece to fall.

Harry's downfall would pave the way for his rise. He would be sure to keep his part and protect him. Keep him safe.

"I want him to be protected inside," Louis commented. "Whoever, from whatever crew, whatever the money...Not a finger on Harry."

"Of course," Liam responded softly. "I'll make sure it's done."

"We'll also save his share from everything we make. Keep an eye on Anna and Gemma. Be there for them, whatever they need. I know they hate me, but...I want to be there for them."

"Yes," Louis drank again, setting his glass aside. "You did the right thing, Lou."

"The right thing would've been to not be in this, at all."

"Yes, but you're here now. It was the best course of action."

They continued in silence, drinking and mourning Harry's loss.

The front door opened, and a woman walked in. Her lonely footsteps echoed inside the bar. Liam looked over his shoulder, seeing her approach them, but did not say a word. She had been at The Velvet multiple times, trying to sell her plan and Louis had turned her down repeatedly.

It was an insane plan! And seemed something straight out of a movie. Also, the woman was always calm and collected...

Which was scary.

The woman sat across from Louis, with her legs crossed and a rested look on her face.

"Tough night?"

Louis opened his eyes, seeing the woman staring back.

"What do you want?"

"I am here to follow up on my proposal."

"You're insane," Louis responded. "I'll answer what I've answered before: you have a family problem. That's your problem. Not mine."

"I want to make a point-"

"Not my problem."

"I've begun doing it and it's working fine. They'll never see it. We're in it for the long game and it can change everything you know, Louis." The woman seduced. "You can leave this little...club of yours. Meetings with dangerous people. Investigations that can and will get you in jail. You can protect this empire of yours most cleanly and securely known to men."

Louis got up from his seat.

"I'm sick and tired of hearing of this plan of yours." He responded. "Find someone else. Preferably someone who gives a shit about your family drama."

The boss turned to walk away from the woman. He needed to get some sleep. Rest easy and drown his regrets.

He wondered if Eleanor would welcome him in his bed-

"It's been up for eight months already and I'm up to two million." Louis stopped. Slowly, he turned around looking at the woman who had a smile on her face. "Eight months in. No one has seen it. No one has noticed. Two million.

"How?"

"Magic."

"Stop fucking about."

She shrugged "I promise you. Two million. And counting."

"How come no one noticed?"

"I know how to make people blind." She announced with pride. "You have what I need moving forward. You're the one I want, Louis. Look at the big picture here."

"How are you doing this?"

"Doesn't matter how. Matters that it's being done." The woman got up from her seat, and as she walked by Liam, as she padded him on the shoulder. She got to Louis and stood a bit taller than him. She pointed at herself and then at him. "Me and you. CEO and Board member. Doniya Malik and Louis Tomlinson. And because I like Liam so much, we'll make him our Chief of Operations."

"You're insane." Liam commented.

"No," Doni smiled, looking deep into Louis's eyes. "I'm just a woman trying to make it in a man's world."

Chapter Text

In this little corner of the Earth, the mornings started early.

The tide had come in, sending bigger waves that crashed into the sand, and the sky was that amazing shade of blue with soft clouds.

It was possible to hear the seagulls cackling about, the incessant chatter in the streets or the cars rolling by. People greet one another, bicycles ringing their bells and children laughing. Saturday morning was shaping up to be quite the day in this lovely town with friendly people and a pleasant atmosphere about it.

However, if one would stretch one's hearing ability and focus above all the regular noises, one would hear pleading moans coming from the third-floor window above Yitty.

Of course, if one was sitting in the sand, they wouldn't hear. But, for instance, if someone walked past Yitty's front door or even across the street, they could catch it as clear as day. They were moans so enticing and beautiful. Sometimes just one, other times two voices doing it.

Two male voices with no shame.

They cursed and pleaded for it to be nonstop. To go harder. To squeeze or scream for the other's name. They could hear the squeaking of the springs or the hitting of a headboard against a wall. It was completely shameless, sensual, and downright...offensive, even. Enough for anyone to clutch their pearls and bless themselves.

So, if people could hear in the streets, imagine what was like inside the bar!

Melissa had to put on some music so it wouldn't be as obvious what was happening a few floors up. For a moment, she forgot that an entire exercise session was happening in Harry's old bedroom. It made her happy that he was having his moment and he was opening up to someone...

But good God...they had been going at it like rabbits.

And worse, it was 'Family Breakfast Saturday' above all days!

Saturday morning 'family' breakfast for all workers was tradition. The bar would prepare the best food catered by a local company - one of the few that didn't mind the reputation of the spot.

One could find eggs, bacon, coffee, buns, bread, cakes, cupcakes...anything and everything to keep the girls, the staff and Melissa herself happy. She loved her girls. She loved what she had built with Yitty and wanted nothing but its infinite success. Stealing cars was a hustle, but her passion was to be on that stage, singing, entertaining, and shaking her ass.

Like any other morning, some of the girls had already joined that Saturday for the family breakfast. Some would bring their children or boyfriends with them, to celebrate as a true family. Melissa sauntered around the tables, kissing the kids, and making casual conversation - her laughter echoing around the room, above the music. As she walked to the bar, she noticed something outside.

Or better yet, someone.

Melissa walked to the closest mirror running her fingers through her long dark wavy hair. Then, reapplied her lipstick and added another coat of mascara. She fixed her breasts, so they would be sitting nicely and sprayed a little of the perfume she kept hidden behind the bar. Once all those items were checked and confirmed, she rolled her shoulders back and headed out the door.

Melissa pulled the door, walked out into the morning, and tried to control her heart. The Bentley Continental was parked right in the front: freshly cleaned, with new wheels and a new emblem on the front. It looked brand new.

The issue was not the car, but the dashing man leaning against it. Tall, muscular, with beautiful eyes and perfect hair.

According to 'society standards' a curvy and loud woman like Melissa didn't have a place next to a man like the athletic and All-American Evans - or better yet, Detective Chief Inspector Chris Evans. He was the classical handsome popular boy in school, with a horde of girls behind him; His beauty matured beautifully into his adulthood, making Evans so handsome he could stop traffic.

He was the kind of man that every single woman had a crush on. He was a gentleman, with the charm of a Southern cowboy and the confidence of a typical Bostonian. Witty, a dork and a hopeless romantic. Melissa was crazy about him! And Evans would go feral for her - even though their romance was doomed from the start, as they were on opposite sides of the law.

Evans opened his arms and showed her that beautiful smile.

"Evans," Melissa greeted, leaning against the door.

"Ready for you, mama." He responded in a perfect Bostonian accent. "Moved heaven and Earth to get it done in time."

"As you should." Melissa walked over to the car. With her expert eyes, she casually inspected the wheels. Sure, she was checking the car - the paint, the tires, the rims, and the emblem to check if they were all legit; But she was also sauntering around Evans, showing the goods, and making the DCI stand firm.

"Looks good."

"Yes, you do." He teased, as she came around to stand in front of him. His eyes travelled her body up and down. Focusing primarily on her cleavage. "Then again, you always did."

"Eyes up here, cowboy."

"Pardon me," Evans responded with a blush. "Old habits."

"I called Emma. She picked up." Lizzo added. "Which is a rare occasion."

"Congratulations. You should try the lottery next."

"You should visit her. She misses you."

Evans smiled thinking fondly of his godmother.

"I'll call."

"You know she won't pick up. You need to drive up there."

"Only if you come with me." Evans smiled. "She loves you and she misses you. Always reminiscing of the time you two spent together."

"I was a fugitive."

"And she misses you still."

"Keys," Lizzo demanded. Evans moved into his leather coat and grabbed the keys. They dangled from his fingers in front of her. Melissa moved to grab them, but Evans moved his hand. "Boy, don't start with me-"

"Speaking of calls, you call Emma who is in the middle of nowhere but not me?"

"Why would I?"

"You always do this, Lizzo. We go round and round-"

"Evans, give me the keys-"

"I moved from Boston for you-"

"The keys-"

"And you keep treating me like shit. Why?"

"I don't know why Evans!" The woman responded. "It's just it. You treat me like shit. I treat you like shit. I slash your tires and you put a warrant on my head. Some couples send flowers and chocolates, we set a house on fire. It just is. Keys!"

Melissa stretched out her hand. Casually, Evans placed the keys in the palm of her hand and the woman nodded.

Curiously, the soft sound of moaning came to them. Someone sounding desperate and almost screaming. Evans frowned looking around, trying to find the source of the noise. Then, he understood it wasn't coming from anywhere around them, but a few floors up. The DCI looked up to the third floor, to the opened round window.

"What..." He frowned, as he heard the moaning better higher and higher. "Who is that?!"

Melissa sighed now that the sound was becoming apparent again. "Harry."

"Harry?"

"Styles."

"Wait...he's out?"

"Yeah," Melissa responded. "For a few weeks now. Dropped by to say hi. That Bentley is his."

"Huh..." Evans responded. "Is he...alone in there?"

"How many voices do you hear, Evans?" Melissa asked with a snap. There was another voice. The moans sounded the same, floating out at the same time. "He's with a...boyfriend."

"Who? That Xander dude?"

"God, no! Someone else. A new guy." Melissa responded with a smirk. "Malik. Zayn Malik. He's dreamy and Harry's new boss. He's no longer working for Tomlinson. He's out of the life - a true civilian now."

"Really?" Evans commented with surprise, leaning against the car. "Interesting..."

The DCI paused for a moment, letting the moans come to their highest moment. He showed Melissa an impressive look and she let out an exhausting sigh - at this point, it wasn't even a turn-on, it was damn right pretentious how good the sex sounded.

A woman walked between them with her little girl. The woman heard the sounds, then stopped looking up at the window - it didn't take her long enough to understand what it could be from the two male voices.

"Mommy..." The little girl called, pulling on her sleeve. "What's that sound?"

The woman blushed, becoming as red as a tomato. The mother looked at Melissa and frowned - as if she was the one in the bedroom going round after round.

"You should be ashamed of yourself." The woman spat back, making Melissa gasp. The woman walked away, pulling the little girl behind. "Cover your ears, darling."

"It's sex, lady!" Melissa yelled, "You should try sometime!"

"Mommy..." The little girl asked. "What's seggs?"

The mother turned to Melissa with an angered look, receiving a middle finger from her. Grabbing the child, the woman practically ran from the street and turned the corner. Soon after, the moans stopped - for that moment, at least.

Melissa turned to Evans who smiled at her.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Melissa. You ask and I come running."

"And to think you're one of the honest ones."

The woman turned to go into Yitty but felt a gentle grip on her arm. In a very romantic and chivalrous act, the DCI grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles; he noticed that her ring finger was the only empty one, while the others sported amazing rings.

Evans made sure to kiss it softly. He looked over at Melissa's cleavage, seeing her wedding ring dangling from a thin golden chain. Evans went inside his shirt, then pulled out a similar necklace with a ring on the end.

"Just say the word, mama."

Melissa tried to hide her smile and show that she wasn't melting over him using that pet name. Instead, she kept strong and removed her hand.

"Thank you, officer." Then, she turned and headed into Yitty. "Enjoy your Saturday."

"Hey, do me a favour." Melissa turned at the door with a hand on her hips. "Tell Harry to give me a call, whenever he can."

"What do you need him for?"

"I'm working on something. He might help."

"He's not a snitch."

"Just need a fresh new pair of eyes. That's all." Evans responded with a smirk. Then he put on his aviator glasses, standing with hands in his pockets. "How do I look?"

He looked good, not even Melissa could deny it. But she was a woman with thick skin, and they were separated. Evans was a detective (a dirty one) but one still and Melissa was a criminal. It would never work. No matter how madly in love they were.

"I'll never understand how a Bostonian with a thick pronunciation as yours, can be a DCI in England."

"Have you looked at my smile?" He responded, showing his perfect teeth. "I flash it and all doors open to me. I can be anything. Even the King of this decadent and treacherous land."

"You're not all that Irish to pick that fight. Relax."

Evans chuckled a perfect smile. "I miss you, mama-"

Melissa rolled her eyes, pushing her door open.

"God, you're insufferable." The woman stepped inside the club. "Go see Emma!"

"I love you, though."

"Bye!"

"I mean it-"

The woman closed the door with a smile on her face.

She wasn't sure what she liked the most: loving Evans to the point of madness or teasing him just as hard.

Harry opened his eyes feeling tingly all over. He was exhausted. Completely numb after an earth-shattering orgasm that made him lose track of everything. He had fallen asleep, with an arm draping out of the bed and head under the pillow. He blinked a couple of times, adjusting to the bright light coming in from the outside and realising it was already the middle of the morning. Understanding where he was and what happened, a smile appeared on his lips.

What a night.

And morning too!

He had never felt this way before. As he was floating in fluffy white clouds. This feeling was completely new to him. His hands were tingly, his heart dancing with happiness and he felt alive like never before.

Turning to the side, he noticed the other side of the bed was abandoned. For a second, he panicked thinking the worst, but the sound of running water brought him to calm.

He remembered moments before, Zayn telling him he was going to shower, while Harry was still high on the passion of being taken from behind. Harry pulled the pillow close to him, burying his face in it and smelling Zayn's scent. It was a mixture of his shampoo, with sweat and fabric softener. He held the pillow closer, feeling like a silly teenager in a movie.

The water stopped running and he heard the shower curtains rustling. The driver sat up in bed, holding the pillow still and waited. Anticipating the reveal of something he adored.

The door opened, with a cloud of steam coming out, followed by Zayn who came out dripping water. Harry watched him walk into the room, with the towel drying his hair but not his steaming body. He said nothing, just watched Zayn do the simple task.

After drying his raven hair, he dried his face, the neck and went down the torso. Harry noticed a few hickeys and scratches above the ink - he was proud of those.

Zayn stopped all of a sudden and then looked at Harry. He frowned, holding the towel with one hand to cover his privates.

"Are you watching me?"

"I am," Harry responded with a smile. "Good shower?"

"Very nice," Zayn responded. "Good water pressure."

"Good."

Zayn sniffed the air, then looked out to the door.

"I smell coffee."

"Family breakfast."

"Ah, no breakfast in bed, then."

"Sadly, not today," Harry responded, holding the pillow closer. Zayn dried his legs one at a time. "We can go down and eat something."

"I'd love that." He responded with a smile, standing straight. "I could use the energy."

"I put you through the wringer, huh?"

Zayn smirked, putting the towel around his neck. There he was completely naked in all his glory.

"You did. You were exceptionally good to me and what a fantastic return for you."

"Never has the end of celibacy felt better."

"I'm here to please."

So, it wasn't a dream.

The kisses were real. Hearing Zayn says his name in the darkness had been real. The ecstasy, the pleasure, the body-shaking orgasms...had been real. How they had said so much, without saying a word had been real.

"Can I ask you something, Harry?"

"Anything, honey," Harry responded, making Zayn chuckle a little.

Zayn wrapped the towel around his waist, then came around the bed sitting next to him.

"Have you ever had to make...complicated deals? Like...when you didn't have a choice or an option - or at least, ones that were...good for you?"

Harry tilted his head for a moment. He sensed Zayn was hiding something. The same thing that was bothering him the previous night. Harry wanted to ask more, but he knew Zayn was trying to get it out in his own words.

"What do you mean?"

"Like..." Zayn looked around, searching for words. "You don't like the process, but you're sure the result is good. However, it is not without consequences or danger to a point. And you're not comfortable with it. At all. But...you're forced to do it."

"Firstly, you're never forced to do anything. There are always choices and no is also a valid choice - with all the consequences that could entail. Secondly, whenever I went to a meeting, I always went with the same mindset: they need me as much, or even more than I need them. If they are coming to you, no matter how outlandish the proposition sounds, they came to you for a reason. Whether it be for access, resources, or money...they came to you. It might not look like it, but you have the power." Harry explained. "Make them sweat it out."

"Give in, but not give up."

"Exactly," Harry confirmed. Zayn took the advice with a strong nod. For a moment, he went into his brain forming a plan of action of some sort. Harry loved to see his mind racing. He loved how he wasn't panicking anymore when referring to such a topic, he seemed resolute. Facing the bulls by the horns. Harry reached out and touched Zayn's dampened hair. "You look better today."

"The night helped," Zayn responded with a soft smile. "Also, running away from problems never helped anyone. Might as well just face it and resolve the issue. Taking control and finding the best way, even in a situation that might not look like the best and caught me by surprise."

"You'll do great."

Zayn leaned over, dropping a lazy kiss on Harry's lips. They kissed for a few seconds, tasting each other's lips; The flicker of desire shot within them, deepening the kiss.

Harry pulled Zayn into him...

"No, no, no..." Zayn responded, falling into him. "We can't-"

"Why not?"

"Because we've been at it all night and day..." Zayn responded, nestling against Harry's warm body while trying to be reasonable. Harry kissed him on the neck, wrapping himself around him. His hands travelled to the towel, undoing it. "And we need to get going-"

"We don't-"

"Harry-"

"Hm?"

"We really should get going, baby." Zayn let an exasperated sigh, feeling Harry's hands run all over his body and the towel falling off his skin. "You're working today, remember?"

"Your mother can drive-"

"I'm your boss."

"And that turns me on even more..."

Harry kissed him and Zayn forgot his train of thought for a moment. Again, that haze came down on them, making them dizzy with desire and attraction to another.

"What was I saying again?" He asked once his lips parted, moving his hips into Harry in a pretend motion. "Something stupid, probably."

"You wanted to go home."

"I did?" Zayn asked, with his hand travelling down Harry's torso. "Stupid me. Why would I want to leave?"

They kissed again intensely, wrapping themselves around one another. Somehow, Harry found himself on top, between Zayn's legs, in a rendition of what happened before.

They were deep into their moment, already on the go for the main course, when a knock on the door brought them to a halt.

"Good morning, lovers!" Melissa's voice came from the other side. "Breakfast is not brunch. Get out and get going. Thank you!"

Melissa's steps echoed down the stairs and they both giggled to themselves. Harry dropped his head on Zayn's shoulder, as he massaged his curls.

"We should go."

"We should." Harry kissed his shoulder, then his neck and ended again on his lips. They kissed a bit more, softly, while their bodies screamed for more action. Harry looked at him with an arched eyebrow. "Do you think it's a good idea for us to go back to the mansion together?"

"Hm. Good point." He replied. "Want me to drop you home and then you'll go?"

"Yes, please," Harry answered, playing with his hair. "I need to pick up some stuff anyway."

"Okay. Need money for the taxi or something?" Zayn wondered, watching his fingers trail up and down Harry's arm. A second passed and he thought Harry's lack of response was odd. When he looked back at the driver, he caught Harry tilting his head to the side and a frown. Zayn understood. "Okay, now that I heard it-"

"Were you-?"

"I wasn't-"

"Were you going to pay me after a night of sex, Zayn?"

"No!"

"Because you know who gets paid-"

"Harry-"

"I mean, I don't deny money. I just think we have a deeper connection; you know?" They both laughed at the miscommunication, with Zayn hiding his face behind his hands. Harry kissed the back of his hands with loud smooches. "You don't have to pay me, honey."

"Thank you," Zayn responded, showing his beautiful face. "We'll meet...later at the house...okay?"

"Yes," Harry responded. "Maybe I can go up to your room."

Zayn hummed, with raised eyebrows. "Interesting."

"I'll be quiet. I promise."

"You'll have to. Can't have you screaming like that with my family at home."

"Deal." They kissed again, touching tongues softly. "I'll meet you there."

Harry rolled from under him, standing by the bed. He stretched for a moment, after taking a quick gander outside. He wandered back to the bathroom to take a shower, while Zayn fixed himself. Suddenly, he stopped and looked back at the CEO.

"Zayn?"

"Hm?"

"Everything we said and shared last night..." Harry began. Zayn stood by the bed putting on his pants. "It was real, right? All of it? The moment we get out of this room...You and me...We're..."

"Yes," Zayn responded softly. "If you want."

"I do, honey. You?"

"Yes,"

Harry blushed for a moment, showing his dimples.

"Okay." He let out. "Okay."

"Okay."

"Yeah."

"Go shower, baby."

"One last thing..." Zayn waited patiently for Harry's conclusion. "You can trust me, Zayn. Whatever is...burdening you. Share it with me. I can help. I do want to listen and help."

Zayn's eyes became covered with a shadow that hadn't been there since yesterday. He looked down at his feet and then at Harry.

"I'm not good at sharing..." He confessed. "Some challenges I take on alone."

"You don't have to. You have me." Harry smiled. "Anything. Anything."

"Can you give me a bit more time? Just so I know what to do next?"

"Sure," Harry responded. "I'll be next to you."

"Good..." Zayn responded. "Now, sweet baby, go shower. I'm starving."

It wasn't breakfast in bed, but it was the closest thing.

While Harry finished dressing up and tidying his old room, Zayn had gone down to the floor and set up a small table in the corner for them. He was surprised to see children running up and down, close to the poles their mothers worked the day before.

As he came into the room, some girls smiled at him and wished him a good morning. There were a few giggles and winks, which made Zayn wonder if they knew why he was up there.

Had they been so obvious?

Away from the noise of people talking and running children. He fixed a plate for Harry first with all the good things they could need for that morning energy boost. He placed it on the table with a glass of orange juice and a steaming black coffee.

Then, he fixed himself a plate and was in the middle of the process when he felt a kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you, honey," Harry whispered, then walked back to the table. He sat down and began eating.

Zayn sat across from him and they enjoyed breakfast quietly, in a little bubble of their own, even in a room full of people talking and laughing.

While eating they would trade quiet stares and soft smiles. Even dare to sigh a little louder or just giggle at one another.

Zayn was over the moon with this creature that had crossed his path. How magical and exciting it all was. He couldn't believe that he had met such a person and wanted nothing more than to bask in his energy forever.

"Were you always like this?"

"Like what?"

"Sweet," Zayn asked. Harry snorted a laugh. "I couldn't possibly imagine you being a bad boy with a golden heart like you have now."

"I didn't have a golden heart. I just had a sense of what to do when the time was right. Which, in consequence, made me very level-headed." Harry explained. "Also, I may have been a good bad boy, but I was also a bad bad boy, honey."

"Interesting..." Zayn commented, leaning over. "So, you did have a dark side?"

"I did."

"Where did it go?"

Harry paused for a moment. His eyes wandered around, before pushing his plate aside.

"Before my friend took over, there was this older man - the Old Man - who ran the scene in London. He liked my friend, so essentially brought him into the business and I went along because we were friends. We moved through the ranks, doing jobs, and getting our patches. Selling, buying, and transferring drugs from point A to B. We made a lot of money - more than we ever did taking cars for Melissa.'

'One day, the Old Man gives my friend an assignment to teach someone a lesson. It's a test for him - to see how badly he wanted it. So, we get there and it's a bunch of kids - possibly, younger than us- that had been selling products from our competition and on a corner they had no jurisdiction in. The conversation didn't go well. A fight breaks out and I see my friend being attacked by them. Punches, stomps, jumping on him..." Harry took a deep breath in, before continuing. "I went deaf and blind, running up and knocking one of them over...I don't remember much...I don't think I want to remember either...I just know that there was a lot of blood on my hands and clothes. I broke two fingers, but it paled in comparison to how the other boy ended."

"Was he okay?"

Harry scratched his head.

"He's alive, not sure if any of us were ever okay after that. The thing is, following that blackout moment of pure rage and darkness, I decided I'd never do that again. Never go on that road again. Of violence, you know? People were usually surprised when they met me because they couldn't fathom the idea of a respectful drug dealer, especially one that walks into a room with no guns and no muscles. I would give respect and get it in return - that was my recipe.'

'Of course, having that power made me fucking overconfident. I was arrogant. Sassy. Little to no patience for shit that wasn't important...and I was empty. I was truly...empty. Like this persona was covering for who I truly was. I dropped the violence but became insufferable. Don't get me wrong, I loved the money, the power, the cars...But, when I'd go home to an empty apartment, smelling of smoke and wanting nothing but a glass of water, my old guitar and a book, that's when I was...myself.'

'That darkness, if you want to call it that, never really left me. I just chose not to give it a voice. In prison, I had no other choice but to be me: if I was cocky, I'd get hurt. If I was violent, they'd kill me. Without the bells and whistles, the result is whom you see before you. The sweet Harry."

"Well, if we look at it, you were always sweet. Choosing to not use violence, it's a sweet thing."

"No, it's more a matter of survival," Harry added. "Don't get me wrong, I've slapped people around, pushed them, kicked them and...did all those things after that incident. I've done them even after I assaulted that kid. I just...choose when I must and if I must. Different things."

"Are you sorry?" Zayn inquired. "For what you did to the kid?"

"Terribly," Harry responded. "If I'm regretful and if it changed my life, imagine his. That's why I keep sending him money."

"You what?"

"I have a fund and he has access to it. I place money in it every month - have been doing it forever. He left the life, I guess...it was too close a call. Now, he's all grown up, girlfriend, house, car...everything."

"On your money."

"On the contrary," Harry added. "He hasn't touched it."

Zayn watched Harry carefully. Then, reaching over grabbed his hand.

"That's very noble."

"It's an empty gesture," Harry responded. "Just to make myself feel better for almost killing him."

Harry looked down at his plate, processing these old feelings he had left behind for so long. So, Zayn decided to bring him to a brighter place.

"If we met back then, would you have given me a shot?"

"Honey, you wouldn't want me back then." Harry lamented, grazing his fingers with his thumb. "I would've probably fucked everything up and treat you horribly. I like who I am now. I like that this sweet Harry can be...be shown to this even sweeter Zayn."

"I'm not sweet," Zayn responded. "I suffer from terrible imposter syndrome and self-doubt. Nothing sweet about me."

"You're wrong," Harry responded. "Yesterday you were that. Today you're different. Certain. Unafraid."

"You helped."

"By having sex all night?"

"No," Zayn responded, intertwining his fingers on Harry's "By being there. Just that. I don't know, I just feel...at ease, with you. I've never felt that. I must admit."

"Not even with perfect Ben."

Zayn smiled. "Not even then. I guess...Romance and all things related to it were always unspoken scenarios. Like...I had my share of dates. I had Ben for a while. But I never felt like my heart was truly in it. It was weird."

"Is your heart in it...now? Here? With me?"

They smiled at one another, holding each other's hands, and feeling the wave of romance that responded without words.

When Harry got up for seconds, he made sure to leave the softest kiss on Zayn's lip and then another on his forehead. It was a simple gesture but made all the difference.

Meanwhile, Zayn's phone rang, and he recognized his mother's number. Taking a deep breath, he picked up the phone.

"Mum?"

"Oh, morning! Remembered you had a mother who was worried sick about you."

"I'm sorry-"

"Not a call. Not a text. Or a bloody smoke signal, Zayn-"

"I'm sorry-"

"I called and called and called again and got nothing!" Trisha added. Zayn pinched his nose, trying to find patience. "You can't do that. You can't go missing and not say a word. I'm your mother. I'm not a stranger! And not even that...you pick up when Niall calls, but not me?!"

Zayn rolled his eyes, trying to find patience within. He had decided to keep Louis's proposal to himself and not involve anyone else. Not at least, he had some control over it.

As Harry dozed off next to him, he thought about it repeatedly. How could he change this situation into a more beneficial scenario for him?

Without the panic of the first impact of the information, he could see it clearly - he couldn't let himself be manipulated and pushed around or he'd lose the company even while sitting at the head of the table.

Harry's input had helped and, while in the shower he had divided an action plan. Louis had come to him because he needed Zayn's distribution network - probably because the one he had was not extensive enough and did not move as fast.

Louis wanted to reach across borders and continents, he couldn't do that on his own. Louis needed Zayn. And, despite Zayn's necessity of raw products benefiting the gangster's initial proposal, the truth was that Zayn had options - more expensive ones, within the recommended list, but options still. Louis had none.

So, in a moment of epiphany under the warm water, Zayn decided he would have to put his fist on the table and show that he was the one in charge, not Louis. Zayn would give him the seat and have one of his men as COO, but...Zayn still had the last word.

Inside that building, in his boardroom, Zayn was law. As a board member, Louis would have to work in tandem with all others and fall under the rules of the administration - not above them.

Also, there was this assured mutual destruction aspect: If Zayn talked, he'd go down, but Louis would go with him. If Louis talked he would risk losing his empire and bring Zayn with him into a rather complicated situation. In the far extreme of it all, Zayn would be willing to sacrifice his legacy. He wasn't sure if Louis would do the same for his empire.

Zayn decided that the fewer people knew of this situation, the better. His mother shouldn't even be on that list. He'd make sure to include Niall, because it was his best friend and perhaps could understand - after the initial panic, of course.

He could also share with Harry as soon as he found the words.

Overall, he felt better now. Confident in his approach.

Harry came back into his line of vision with a new plate full of food. Zayn smiled - he had been so hungry in his lust, that of course, he'd be hungry for food.

"Zayn?" Trisha called with a sharp tone. "Are you there?"

"Yes, Mum. I'm here. Listen...I apologise for dropping out of the face of the Earth - I just needed a moment. I'll be home soon."

"Good!" Trisha snapped back. "You better be. And don't you do this again!"

"I promise."

"God..." The woman mumbled. "What a messy day. You're not here. Harry's not here-"

Zayn arched an eyebrow. "Harry's not there?"

Harry paused with a fork in his mouth, while Zayn teased him with a smirk.

"No! Hasn't called in."

"Huh... Odd. Harry sounds very responsible. I'm sure he'll pop in soon." Harry nodded in agreement. "Do you have any plans?"

"Well, the girls and I were planning on visiting your aunt in Bradford," Trisha responded. "I'd love for Harry to take us, but if he's not here-"

"Did he tell you or Safira what time he'd come back?"

Harry shook his head no.

"No," Trisha responded. "I'm worried. I hope nothing happened to him. He's such a nice lad."

Zayn smiled listening to Trish's adoration for Harry. Across from him, the driver frowned seeing his expression.

"Tell you what, I'll give him a call and ask him to check in with Safira. I'm sure he's probably on his way or dozed off. If you must go visit Aunty, Rob can drive you. At least, he'll be doing something. How about that?"

"But you wouldn't join us then? You'd be home alone on the weekend. And Aunty would love to see you."

"I've been home alone before, Mum." Harry tilted his head to the side, listening to the conversation and catching the keyword. "Besides, I'm not the best person to be around right now, also I have a lot of work...Just, send Aunty my love."

"Okay..." Trisha lamented. "Are you sure you're okay, sweetheart? When are you coming home?"

"I'm fine, mum," Zayn responded looking at Harry, who had returned his attention to his food. "Better than before. I'm just having breakfast. Be on my way soon."

After saying his goodbyes to his mother, Zayn watched as Harry finished his breakfast. He seemed so happy and calm, enjoying his food. He was glad that the dark version of him no longer existed and only the sweet version was left. He'd drown in him if possible.

Suddenly, the idea of having breakfast with him every morning wasn't bad. Seeing that face sitting across from him wasn't scary. Waking up next to him didn't mess up his senses. It made sense. How they had waltzed around one another that morning between getting dressed, showering, coming down for breakfast and sitting together was very intuitive. There were little to no questions or concerns. Like all the times they made love the previous night: guided by instincts. They didn't have to say anything, their bodies would do the work. Respond accordingly. Giving him control or taking it when the other matched the energy. It just was.

"You're staring."

"Oh..." Zayn cleared his throat, then fixed himself in his seat. "Sorry. I was just...thinking."

"About?"

"Still wondering if this is a dream or...just a weird parallel reality of some sort."

"Or..." Harry reached out his hand and Zayn took it. "It's just what it is."

They held hands for what seemed forever. Just enjoying the moment of quiet, in the middle of a remarkably busy strip club. Their fingers curled around and had gentle strokes with clear signals. Zayn watched Harry's fingers in his and he was sure he wanted that moment to last forever. His touch. His softness.

All of it never ends.

They broke contact when Melissa sat down between them with a smile on their face, looking at their hands.

"Morning, lovers." She sang with a perfect pitch. Shyly Zayn removed his hand, keeping it under the table clasped with the other to keep the warmth from Harry's touch. "I have good news and a curious request. First..." Melissa removed her keys from her pocket and handed them over to Zayn. "Your steed is ready. To make up for your troubles, we've also cleaned it, giving it a new coat of wax and a new emblem. It looks brand new."

"Thank you," Zayn responded.

"So, Evans came through..." Harry commented. Melissa slowly turned to him with a squint. "It's so nice that he rushes over when you call him."

"He owed me. This is business."

Harry looked at her cleavage.

"Still wearing the ring, I see."

Melissa looked at the necklace, then tossed her hair back.

"It's a beautiful ring and it was expensive."

"Lizzo, just get back with him-"

"Boy, why are you arguing with me at 10h00am in the morning? I came with good news, and you had to kill my joy." Melissa snapped back. "Did you leave the key where you found it?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry responded but did not change the subject. "You and Evans have a weird, but beautiful, relationship. It's like Romeo and Juliet."

"So, we're both going to end up dead?" Melissa snapped back. Then, she turned to Zayn. "Your man is crazy."

Zayn scoffed a little "Well...I think that's why I like him so much."

"So much?" Lizzo repeated with a gasp. Then, she turned to Harry who had flushed cheeks and a smirk on his lips. "Aren't you lucky, sweetheart?"

"I guess..." Harry responded. Zayn shook his head not believing he had just shown his cards so easily. "What's the request?"

"Evans wants you to call him."

"Me?" Harry wondered. "Why?"

"Fuck if I know. He never tells me anything. He needs your help looking at something - don't ask me what it is, I do not know."

"Who's Evans?" Zayn wondered.

"Melissas' husband-"

"Ex-husband-"

"Husband!" Harry reiterated. "He's a police inspector. I haven't seen him for ages. Don't know what he could want with me."

"Me neither. Give him a call, okay? Now, I adore you both, however, it's time for you to get the fuck out." Melissa landed a loud kiss on Harry's cheek, and then they both hugged for a moment trading sweet words. Melissa then moved to Zayn, landing him a quick kiss, and whispered, "Take care of my sweetie, okay?"

"I promise."

The woman walked away from their table heading somewhere else, leaving Harry and Zayn to sit in their romance.

"So, you like me so much..."

Zayn rolled his eyes. "Here we go-"

"No, I'm just commenting-"

"Yes, I do. Problem?"

"Me? I don't have a problem." Harry responded with a shrug, with a look of defiance in his eyes. "Since you like me so much."

"All right..." Zayn grabbed the keys and got up from his seat. "Whenever you're ready."

"It has a ring to it, honey!"

Zayn watched him carefully, assessing Harry.

"You're a smug little shit."

Harry sat back in his chair with a smirk.

"Some would say arrogant."

"Huh..." Zayn commented. "Some would say."

Zayn felt a hunger calling within. The way Harry was looking at him with that smirk and that raised chin, made him itch. He looked devious. Zayn wanted him on his knees. Wanted him begging. Wanted that face to be one of want and desire, completely naked of any strip of strong will. Knock Harry down a pedestal or two.

Not with malice or evil intent, just something about possession in dominance. It brought out his most viral senses. And he could see that Harry wasn't exactly against it either.

Without saying a word, Zayn looked around the room. He had an idea in mind. He walked away from Harry's table, searching for a discreet corner since they couldn't go back upstairs. Zayn caught a dark corridor to the left of the club, on the opposite side of the secret rooms. One of them marked the bathroom.

Seeing that most of the people in the club were women or small children, Zayn was keen on exploring the male bathroom - he was almost certain it wouldn't be used.

He looked back to Harry who watched him from the table with curiosity. No one was watching them. Lizzo was too busy talking to the other girls and keeping them entertained than paying attention to whatever it was they were doing.

So, ever so casually, Zayn walked to the bathroom and pushed the door open. The bathroom had two stalls, with one of them being off-service Zayn entered, closed the door to the bathroom and stood behind it against the wall. He counted the seconds. He knew that Harry would enter any moment now - he could almost feel him getting up from the table, walking across the room and into the dark corridor.

When Zayn turned his head to the side, the door to the bathroom opened and he caught Harry's hand. Harry stepped in with his back to him, unable to spot him in the small, abandoned bathroom. With his foot, Zayn closed the door behind him, and Harry jumped.

"What-"

Zayn placed a finger on his lips demanding silence. He turned to the door, finding the lock, but didn't turn it - somehow, he wanted to have this moment close to the edge.

Then, he turned to Harry with hands behind his back. He took a step forward and Harry a step back.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing,"

Another step forward from Zayn and another back from Harry. Never broke eye contact and kept his intentions clear.

"I thought we needed to leave."

"We do."

In this careful waltz, they entered the stall, too small for the two of them.

"We could've stayed in the bedroom then, Zayn."

"We could."

Harry turned slightly, his back hitting the wall and standing against it. Zayn leaned against the stall opening watching him.

Look at him: he was already with rushed breathing, eyes wide open and parted lips. Already begging for him, without saying a word.

"You know..." Zayn entered the space, taking one step towards Harry. "I do like you so much." Another step. "I like you. What can I say, I do." Another one. "And, for the life of me, I don't see how I could ever not. You have every right to be smug."

Zayn entered his space, standing inches away from his lips, seeing Harry's big eyes watching him closely. Zayn placed his hands on Harry's waist and joined their middle parts; Zayn undid his belt and popped one of the buttons and the zipper too.

Curiously, he curled one finger inside his boxers and peeked into the forest of dark hairs. Then, his hands travelled up Harry's torso, clasping around his neck and cupping his face gently. Zayn's thumb touched his lip, marking them like lipstick. He approached Harry's lips hovering above them with a warm breath.

First, he left soft pecks on those sweet lips and Harry responded by just using the lips. Then, his tongue came out licking softly on the upper lip and Harry mimicked him, making their tongues brush on one another. Zayn opened his mouth, grabbing Harry's lips and taking it. Harry fell into the kiss completely numb against him, at his mercy and desire.

When they parted, Zayn kept Harry looking right into his eyes. A hint of malice in them, contrasting with Harry's complete and utter devotion.

"How can I not like you when you fucked me so well last night, huh?" Zayn whispered against his lip and Harry nearly fainted against him. "When you hit me in all the good places with that cock of yours. When you made me cum like no other. Of course, I like you so much."

Seeing the look on Harry's face was enough to make Zayn's heart race in his chest. He felt Harry's tight grip on his shirt, pulling him closer and using him as an anchor for his sanity.

"Every time you fucked me..." Zayn whispered with intention, then licked his mouth. "I came hard. You felt so good against me, baby. So warm. Such a nice cock..."

"Oh my God..." Harry let out a sigh. Zayn deepened the kiss once more, dragging his lips, and then giving a gentle bite. Their centres were glued together as Zayn began to rub on Harry's, feeling his erection through the jeans. A soft motion on the hips, makes the driver leave soft gasps of pleasure. "Liked me that much, huh?"

"Oh, baby you have no idea..." Zayn kissed him again. "You fuck so good. So handsome. So strong..."

Another kiss, leaving Harry breathless. Zayn's grip moved to Harry's hair, pulling it back exposing his neck. Then, he kissed him, sucking the skin between his lips and biting, while moving his hips with more intention.

Harry let out a soft moan, while his hands wandered from the shirt to Zayn's cheeks and pushed him towards him.

"Want me to"

"Shhhh..." Zayn demanded, kissing him for a moment. Now, was the tilting point. The flipping of the charts. Harry was completely at his mercy. Zayn pulled his hair again, making him hiss. "You liked when I fucked you, baby?"

Harry gasped. "Yes."

"Sitting on my prick like a sweet thing?"

"Yes."

"When you came all over me and screamed my name...I went wild with desire." Zayn thrust against him, and Harry's breath quickened. The motion was driving him insane, and he was tilting over, fluttering his eyes. "I loved to have you like that. So open. Riding my prick. I still think about it."

"Zayn, wait..." Harry begged, with a rushed breath and without any sense of self. Zayn removed one of his hands from Harry's hair, then moved it to Harry's cock; He took it out, feeling it hard on his hand and began stroking. "Wait...wait..."

"Wait for what?"

"I don't..." Harry moaned, falling into temptation. "Oh, my-"

"Remember that, baby? When you sat on my prick, and I fucked you nice. You screamed my name..."

"Shit, wait..." Harry gasped. "There are kids out there-"

"I don't care about the kids."

Zayn sped his motion and Harry closed his eyes, not wanting him to stop or slow down.

Outside the bathroom, the voices of mothers and children laughing echoed - Zayn hoped none of the little boys he saw wanted to use that bathroom.

The CEO bit his lip and Harry gasped into him, with a firm movement of the hand. His voice echoed in the bathroom.

"Tell me you liked me fucking you, Harry."

"I did,"

"You did?"

"I fucking did..." Harry growled out of breath, in defiance. Zayn pulled his hair a bit more and he winced. "I can't think-"

"Not so smug anymore, I see."

Harry grinned and Zayn mirrored him

"Teaching me a lesson on humility?"

"I want to see you come again. You fucked me nice, I let you ride me and come all over me-"

"Oh fuck, don't say that-"

"I felt you touching me as I slept and kissing me." Harry moaned into his lips. "And I didn't want it to stop."

"You're driving me crazy-"

"Oh?" Zayn licked his hand for a second, then went in again, pushing Harry against the stall. Harry gasped with a hungry mouth, feeling himself go higher and higher. "Harry, I want to fuck you like that all the time."

"Yes,"

"Are you going to ride me?"

"Yes."

"Be good to me?" Zayn asked with intention. "So I can make you come cum all over. Mark you. Bite you. Push you up against the wall. Toss you around, Harry-"

"Oh, my God-"

"Because I love to see you cum, baby. Like this. Gone for me. I'll do anything to see you come like this..." Harry's whimpers echoed around the bathroom, as his eyes shuttered close. Zayn loved to have him like this. Completely his. So vulnerable and so beautiful. Another sound came out of him, and he shot his load into Zayn's hand, who used it so it could slip faster. "Just like this. For me. Just for me, baby. Come on."

Harry let out a wail and orgasmed right there in Zayn's hand. He nearly collapsed into Zayn, who caught him. The CEO kissed him softly, tasting the little veil of sweat forming on his forehead.

Harry's hands held him tightly, taking in his scent and kissing his neck.

"What we learned?"

Harry snorted a laugh into his neck "Don't be cocky."

"No, you can be cocky all you want..." Zayn looked at him with a grin. "Just not too cocky."

Harry investigated the distance on the road ahead. Beside him, the pump gave him a few extra drops of petrol for the journey ahead, with the hose wheezing and making noise in his hand. A few seconds later, the tank was full, and Harry pulled the hose away, storing it in place.

Again, he looked ahead - This gas station was one of the few on the way to the motorway, Harry used to come here when he was a younger man, and he was surprised it was still here. He remembered stopping by with Louis and Liam to get some cheap food before making another run - always stealing an extra chocolate bar. He looked ahead and realised...

This was the closest he'd ever been to home.

He opened the car door, got inside, and sat behind the wheel, still facing the road ahead with cars coming and going in both directions.

Was this the right time to come home? Was there a right time to come home?

It was a Saturday morning, so he was sure his mother would be home, having Gemma and Michael over for breakfast or working in her garden. He wanted to see her but wasn't sure how to do it.

The door opened, welcoming Zayn who sat beside him keeping his wallet.

"All set," He let out a smile. Harry didn't reply, instead, he kept looking ahead. "What's wrong?"

"This is the closest I've been to home." Harry let out without blinking. "If we keep going, just ahead there's an exit and in five minutes I'd be at my mum's place. Where I grew up."

Zayn looked ahead too, seeing the stretch of road.

"Want to go?"

"I'm..." Harry cleared his throat, moving in his seat behind the wheel. "I don't know..."

"Harry,"

"I don't know how she'd react to me..." He confessed with a hint of nervousness. "I haven't seen my mother in years. I didn't reply to her letters or take her calls. I'm a free man and I have yet to see her. It wasn't a punishment to her - I love her. It was me. I am atoning for what I put her through, and she didn't deserve it."

"I think it's time for you to stop punishing yourself," Zayn responded softly. "I'm sure she'd be happy to see you."

"What if she isn't?" Harry asked with a hint of fear coming through. "What if she's...disappointed or angry at me...I don't know..."

Zayn's hand found the inside of his thigh and squeezed gently. The touch made Harry focus on him.

"Let's just drive there first, okay? Then, we see how you feel."

"Okay..." Harry responded, placing both hands on the wheel and turning on the car. "Okay."

Harry drove home quietly. A stretch of road he had done so many times. He could almost drive that route with his eyes closed, he had done so many times.

The Bentley rolled into a familiar street, with little houses and tall trees. He saw some familiar faces walking down the street on their morning walks but didn't care about them. He was driving straight home after five years and a couple of weeks away.

Harry parked on the opposite side of the road, facing a two-story house with a tiny driveaway. The house was surrounded by bushes and trees, making it seem as if it came out of a fairy tale

He turned off the car, facing the house and was struck by all kinds of emotions.

"I remember when we first moved in," He began with a softness in his voice. "I was running around like an insane kid, super excited. Everything seemed so big. I know it looks tiny now, but that house was huge to me.'

'I had a bedroom all to myself, overlooking the alley - there's a Chinese restaurant further down and I'd smell their food every night. They'd give me a plate, whenever I popped by. I would park my bike right there by the gate and, every time my mum would yell at me not to park it there, as it would scratch the van. You see that ball up on the roof?" Harry pointed and Zayn peeked behind him. "It's from another kid who used to live down the street. I was annoyed because her would not let me play with him, so I grabbed the ball and held it, hostage, on my roof.'

'That's the living room down there..." Harry pointed to the row of windows on the lower floor. "Above it is my mum's bedroom. On the other side was Gemma's."

He stopped seeing the house.

"It hasn't changed one bit."

"Why don't we go see it up close?" Zayn inquired.

"Zayn, I don't think-"

"Just a bit closer. We'll make it quick."

Before Harry could protest, Zayn opened the car door and stepped out. Compelled by him, Harry pushed the door and got out as well.

Together they crossed the street, with Zayn lingering a little bit behind Harry so he could have a moment. They stepped into the sidewalk, going up the driveaway and Harry stopped again.

"Want to knock?"

"No, no..." Harry answered, rushed. "Let's go-"

"Let's knock."

"Zayn, no, no..."

Zayn walked past Harry, going up the driveway, up the tiny steps and knocked on the door. Harry cowardly waited, with his heart in his hands as the seconds ticked by. Zayn moved his hand and knocked again, this time a bit harder. Still no response.

"Huh..." Zayn commented, looking inside the house. "Maybe she's not home? Any idea where she might've gone?"

"Zayn, I don't-"

"Come here-"

"No, I want to go. We should go." Harry begged while Zayn kept peeking into his windows. Rolling his eyes, Harry went up the driveway. "Zayn, come on-"

Then, the sound of someone humming a tune came to him. It came from around the corner. Harry recognized her voice immediately.

She always hummed something when she was deep in a task. As if her mind went blank of any information while the body worked.

Harry went around the house with careful steps - as if he were about to meet a monster in the corner. He kept going, turning the corner, with the humming becoming more prevalent. Then, he heard a gasp and stopped.

"Aren't you a beauty?" She commented to herself with a light giggle. "And you smell divine. Oh! You'll be great on a salad."

Harry started walking again, wandering to the side of the house into the back garden. Gemma was right - it was completely different.

Where once was a large space of green land, where they would occasionally play football, have barbecues, and catch some sun, now part of it was gone. It had turned into a little patch of land with happily growing tomatoes, lettuces, cabbages, and pumpkins. Closer to the back wall was another patch full of flowers growing steadily - it looked beautiful.

She was kneeling on the dirt, with his back to him and Harry saw she was picking up these beautiful, big red tomatoes.

"Look at you..." She commented, grabbing another one so big and plump. She smelled it and smiled. "Ah. I am so proud of myself. These look great. I need to thank Judy for the tip - it did help, though."

Harry noticed how much he had missed her lonely rambles that came out of her lips as mental reminders.

He stood there seeing her pick up tomatoes and place them in a basket. Then, she moved to big lettuce, digging it out with her gloved hands and pulling it off the ground. It came out with a strong tug, all green and flowery, looking beautiful.

"Oh, will you look at that..." She commented admiring the lettuce. "Beautiful."

Harry cleared his throat, then took another step forward. Without thinking, he opened his mouth and let out lonely:

"'Scuse me?"

The woman jumped in fright, turning around. With a hand shielding her eyes, Anne looked up.

"Yes?"

And just as quickly, Harry saw her look of recognition. Her face fell for a moment, as her hand did too. She blinked repeatedly, not believing her eyes. Anne went a bit pale without knowing what to say, but she didn't move.

Anne couldn't move. So, Harry did the move for her.

Carefully, he approached his mother, seeing her big blue eyes filling up with water. He knelt in front of her, as Anne took one glove off.

"Mum-"

A hand flew across Harry's face, hitting him right on the right cheek. Anne stifled a cry, then brought him into a tight embrace. Anne kissed him all over, as she cried with happiness.

"My baby," She whimpered, kissing him all over. She investigated his face, searching his eyes forever as tears rolled down. "You've been...I've missed you! I've bloody missed you."

"I'm sorry, Mum. I shouldn't have-"

"It doesn't matter." Anne whimpered again. "It does not matter. You're here. You're here!"

Anne held him tighter, as she half cried, and half giggled with happiness.

Not that far, Zayn watched the scene unfold with warmth in his heart for Harry's reunion with his mother. Discreetly, he grabbed his phone and dialled Safira.

"Mr Malik?"

"Safira. Good morning." He greeted the Governess. "I know Harry hasn't shown up this morning. I just got off the phone with him and he'll be spending the morning with his family. His mother, most importantly."

"Yes, sir," Safira responded accordingly. "I'll let Mrs Malik know."

"Thank you."

"When will you be arriving?"

"Soon. I'm on my way now."

"Very well.." Safira added. "Also, there's been a rather insistent caller - demanding to speak to you."

Zayn froze for a moment. "Who?"

"A Mr Tomlinson. Wanting to know if you're home. Already called twice."

Zayn took a deep breath, looking at Harry who was still catching up with his mother.

"If he calls again, do give him my number. I don't want him calling at the house."

"Yes, sir."

"Have mum and the girls left?"

"Finishing getting ready. Rob will take them."

"Good," Zayn responded. "I'll be home soon."

Zayn ended the call, then turned around, leaving Harry behind. He needed to go home and sort out this situation with this Tomlinson man. The sooner he got home, the better.

He came around the house, going down the driveway and out of the property.

"Zayn?" Just before he crossed the street, he turned, seeing Harry come out from behind the steps with his mother in hand. "Where are you going?"

"Sorry, I have to go..." He responded from a distance. "You can stay, don't worry. I spoke to Safira, you can stay, if you want."

Harry turned to his mother begging for a moment, then rushed back to Zayn.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing, baby. I just need to go, but you can stay." Zayn responded. "I know you want to spend time with her. It's fine."

Zayn turned to walk, but Harry grabbed his arm.

"Stay."

"What?"

"I want you to stay," Harry chewed the words for a moment, before looking at him with big green orbs. "I want you to meet my mum."

Zayn was stunned. He looked at Harry, then at Anne who waited for a few steps behind with a smile on her face.

"Erm...isn't it...I don't know a little...too soon?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Zayn lowered his voice looking at him. "We kissed less than 48h ago and now I'm meeting your mum?"

"And?"

"And?" Zayn repeated with a frown. "What do you mean and?"

"I don't see the issue-"

"We just got together-"

"Are we together?"

"Don't do that. You know what I mean-"

"You don't want to meet my mother?"

"It's not about meeting your mother, baby. It's the fact I'm meeting your mother..."

"I don't get it-"

"Whoa, you have been out of the game for five years!"

"Sex-wise, yes. Relationships, never."

Zayn's eyes grew wide and then focused on the subject at hand.

"Baby, your mum looks lovely, but this is a time for the two of you to connect and-"

Harry held his hand and looked right into his eyes, hitting Zayn right in his heart.

"I want you to meet my mum. She's curious about you, after all, you brought me here, honey. I want you to meet her and for her to see you." He responded with a light smirk. "She doesn't bite."

"She's lovely, of course, she doesn't bite. Unlike you." Zayn let out a sigh, then nodded. "Sure."

With Harry leading the way back to his mother, Zayn followed. The driver stood next to his mother, with an arm draped over her shoulder and a gigantic smile. Then, he kissed her hair making her smile.

"Mum..." Harry announced. "This is Zayn Malik. My...boss."

Unexpectedly, Anne moved to Zayn and hugged him close, rubbing her hands on his back. Zayn looked surprised at the gesture, then held her in the same fashion.

"Thank you," Anne whispered. "For bringing him to me."

"No problem,"

The woman broke off the hug but kept on him.

"Please, do stay for some tea. I'll even call Gemma and John-"

"That's not-"

"I know, I know you are a remarkably busy man. But, let me thank you in any way I can for bringing me, my baby."

Zayn looked at Anne, then at Harry. He felt cornered but for a compelling cause. London could wait a few more hours.

"Okay," He responded.

Anne giggled with happiness, she placed a kiss on Zayn's cheek and then another on Harry's.

"Oh, you came at the right time..." She responded, heading back to the house, and rambling to herself in a giddy voice. "I just bought cookies from Marshall's, and I've been wanting to have them. Everyone is talking about how good they are..."

Anne pushed the door to the house and kept it open talking while roaming inside.

Harry took the opportunity, then turned to Zayn, landing him a kiss on the lips. A soft kiss. Lingering for a moment and making both their hearts drum.

"Thank you," Harry whispered, before nudging him with his nose and kissing him one last time.

"My pleasure," They kissed again, softly, and then Zayn sighed. "I should do good deeds more often."

"You should. They suit you."

Harry held his hand and together, they walked into his childhood home.

Chapter Text

Zayn kept looking at his hand. It had been an hour since he had stepped into Anne Twist's house and the phone would ring every two minutes with a number he did not recognize but was sure of who it could be. He was certain it was him, on the other line, demanding an answer or wanting a reply. And Zayn was trying but being in such a loving environment made things complicated.

He looked up, seeing Harry across from him with his mother on one side and the sister on the other. He was showered with love and affection by the two most important people in his life. It was like watching a scene from the outside. Harry was all smiles and blushes. His mother would touch his face, and his cheek and squeeze his hand, making sure he was there.

She had set up the table with some tea, cookies, and appetisers even though they weren't hungry after a massive breakfast at Yitty. The house was small but warm, full of memories and in the pictures, Zayn could see all the various stages of Harry: from when he was a baby-faced boy, up to a young adult with long hair. Gemma was sweet, spoke with soft words and was always very polite in her manners. Michael, her fiancé, was equally kind and loving.

Now and then would share gazes across the table, paired up with loving smiles. It was lovely to see Harry in this environment and Zayn wanted nothing but to keep him like this.

The phone rang again in his hand with the number insisting on a conversation.

"Excuse me," Zayn begged, standing from the table, and walking down the hall to find a quiet place. He was close to the stairs to the second floor. "Hello?"

"Good morning. Boy, you're a hard man to talk to, Zayn!" Louis commented on the other side. Zayn took a deep breath before continuing with the conversation. "Almost thought you were avoiding me or something."

"I'm sorry, I've had a busy weekend."

"I imagine," Louis responded. "I heard you are not at your house. How will we speak? I am not keen on having conversations over the phone."

"How about..." Zayn pondered for a moment. "How about we meet somewhere else?"

"The Velvet," Louis responded. "My club. Do you know where it is?"

"I'll find it."

"Good. In...an hour?"

"I'm a bit further. Might take me more."

Louis chuckled. "It may also take you less. I've been hounding you to pick up your fucking phone, you can at least make it on time."

"But-"

"Fantastic. See you in an hour."

Louis ended the call leaving Zayn with his heart in his hands. Here it was again that sense of dread that left him completely lost and with a hint of anxiety forming within himself. Zayn looked up the stairs and, curiously, walked up. The first room he saw was not Harry's. Nor was the second one with a feminine decor. He found the third one on the left and saw that it was his old bedroom. From the single bed to the posters on the wall or the shelf crooked with books, which was Harry's room.

Zayn ventured into his world, admiring what it was like to be inside such a mind. He had an amazing vinyl collection, all lined up according to the genre and protected in plastic cases. Some terrific books were on his shelf - some of which Zayn had read. At that moment, he figured Harry was just more than just his past or his current job. He was someone who could take on the world, with vision and a sense of self some people didn't have.

Zayn found a little box on his dresser - he opened it finding a ton of rings, all golden and all beautiful. He saw the H and the S, smirking to himself - what a pretentious bastard walking around with his initials in his fingers. He caught the ring with the pretty pearl on it. Then, another with the lion. But the one he found the most beautiful was the one with the birds. It was a pretty one and Zayn put it on his finger. Then, he wandered to Harry's bed where he sat down while playing with it.

"Now, this is something you don't see every day," Harry commented. Zayn smiled at him, catching him by the door. "A handsome man sitting on my bed."

"Sorry. I got curious."

"It's okay. Found anything interesting?"

"Just that...you're more fascinating than I thought."

"You think too highly of me," Harry responded. "My coat looks great on you."

Zayn looked at the coat, rubbing it down.

"Do you want it back?"

"No, keep it. Give it back later." Harry responded. "It'll smell like you, and I can keep it close."

Zayn smiled at him, then showed him the hand with the ring on the middle finger.

"What do you think?"

"It looks good on you." Harry approached him, sitting at his side, both their knees touching. They looked at one another with a gentle simile coming onto their lips. Harry grazed his fingers through Zayn's hair and the driver closed his eyes to the touch. "I'm sorry if this was too much."

"It wasn't. Your family is amazing."

Zayn nudged him slightly and Harry responded with the same gesture. After a few seconds, the businessperson took off the ring and asked for Harry's hand. He slid the ring on his middle finger, then kissed the back of his hand.

"I have to go, baby," Zayn announced softly, holding onto his hand, and looking at it. "Business stuff."

"It's Saturday..."

"I know..." Zayn kissed his hand again. "Just this topic can't wait."

"It's the topic you've talked about this morning. That shady deal?"

"Yeah..."

"Want me to go with you?"

"No," He responded, playing with his fingers. "Stay with your mum. I'll meet you back at the house later. I don't know how long it'll take."

"I'll meet you in your bedroom?"

"Yes,"

Harry leaned over to him, kissing his neck, and taking his scent. Zayn looked at him, seeing his eyes already wanting him.

"Kiss me," Zayn touched his face, rubbing his thumb on his lips and then kissed Harry softly. Their kiss was timid, small little pecks to remind them of one another. Once they were done, the two connected their foreheads and breathed together. "I-"

Harry ate his own words, keeping them inside. Zayn cupped his face looking into his green eyes. He could read it in his eyes, how completely at a loss in his emotions the young man was. Instead, Zayn kissed him again.

"Later,"

"Yes."

Zayn drove with calm and ease. He wanted to think about Harry and bask in that loving energy he felt within but forced himself to focus on the challenge ahead. He was going to meet Louis and it was necessary to keep that energy he had found before: of being secure, concentrated, and resolute in his position when facing him. Zayn couldn't falter.

Thinking of Harry made him falter and want nothing more to return to his arms. To return to a night led by their desire and instinct. He wanted to have his arm around Harry, feeling the soft touch of his fingers run across his skin.

He was particularly fond of Harry nestling against his body, with their legs intertwined and chest glued together. Kissing until their lips hurt or they couldn't take it anymore.

"I could kiss you forever," Zayn confessed, looking deep into those green eyes full of life. "You're delicious."

"First time anyone called me that," Harry responded softly. Zayn ran his fingers through his curls, making him close his eyes and enjoy the soft massage. "That feels good."

"I like your curls,"

"Now, imagine me with long hair down to my shoulders."

"Menace," Zayn growled, and Harry smiled. "I like you better this way, though."

"Why?"

"It's how I got you. I'd like to keep you this way."

"I can't believe I have you."

"You do."

Harry came closer to him, keeping his face hidden in the crook of his neck. Zayn felt his warm breath against his neck and Harry's lips on his skin with soft kisses. The kissing left him tingling and itching for more. A soft moan escaped his lips.

"Can we stay like this forever?" Harry asked in a whisper. "I want to be like this forever. I don't want to leave this room."

Zayn pulled him closer, wanting Harry again. Their kisses deepened and their breath quickened.

"Sure, baby." He whispered. "Can I have you now?"

"Yes,"

"Can I make you feel good?"

"Yes," Harry begged. "Please..."

Zayn smirked, "God, I love hearing you beg."

Zayn stopped the car at a red traffic light, holding onto the wheel. Looking at the rear-view mirror, he saw the road behind that could lead to Harry.

Later. Later he would have him again and fall into his arms without blinking. Later he would kiss him again, having him again and be his in total.

But, right now, Harry needed to be an afterthought. His heart, mind, body, and soul needed to be focused on the moment ahead. When the light turned green and he drove forward, he was again in the mindset of a businessperson heading into a tough negotiation. Where before he could've been stressed with the process of driving, now he was calm.

He got to The Velvet, parking in front of the club. He got out, looking at the establishment and surprised to have never actually looked at it when driving by. The door was discreet, the sign on the wall was now turned off and there was no indication of what it could be.

He got out of the car and walked to the club. Zayn wasn't sure what to expect, but he wasn't as nervous as he could be. A couple of days ago, he would be trembling, but now...he was focused. He knew that to get anything done, he needed to act with certainty and secure himself.

He walked up to the door and knocked. The door opened, showing a muscled man, who eyed him up and down. Without saying a word, the man stepped to the side, welcoming Zayn in and so he did. The club was empty, quiet and with no life. A few members of the cleaning crew roamed around with mops and brooms cleaning the traces of the previous night.

He stood there in the middle of the club, unsure of where to go or where to look.

"Ah!" Zayn looked up seeing Louis peer down at him. "Just in time. You flew on that motorway, didn't ya?"

"You wanted to see me."

"That I did," Louis responded. "Welcome to The Velvet. Come up here. Let's talk."

Zayn went up the stairs, over the second floor overlooking the club and entered Louis's small office. He thought they would be alone, but another man was standing behind Louis. Zayn kept his distance, ready for anything that could happen at any given moment. He took a deep breath, centring himself and focusing on the moment at hand.

"So..." Louis began leaning against his desk, with crossed arms. "Have you thought about my proposal?"

"Yes,"

"And?"

Zayn breathed again and then responded, "We're on."

Louis clapped loudly and smiled. "Good man. I knew I liked you. You're smart.

"But..." Zayn added. I have a few...comments on our deal."

"Of course," Louis responded. "I wouldn't expect anything less. Do share."

"First: Who is this new COO you're thinking of?"

"Him," Louis shook his head towards the man in the back. The Sargent smiled and waved from the window. "Liam. He's good."

"Are you?" Zayn tilted his head, looking at the man. His gold chain, big watch and style did not match what Innov was about.

"Trust me, mate. I've been doing this for a while."

"Are you aware of any of the operations that we have so far?"

"Fuck no," Liam scoffed. "I work for our side, not yours. I'm here to make sure the product goes from point A to point B."

"No," Zayn answered. Liam and Louis both arched their eyebrows with surprise. "If you're working at the company I need you to be aware of all operations. You will be managing them. That means that you will have to have a strategy moving forward for the company, which can play alongside whatever plan you have for your drugs. Can you do that?"

Liam crossed his arms over his chest, taking a deep breath. "Lou, what the fuck is this?"

"Relax," Louis begged, turning his attention to Zayn again "Friend, we have no interest in your operation you see. How you make your shit happen is with you. We don't care. Liam is there to look after my interests-"

"Which are the same as mine. You're working my route, with my containers and my network." Zayn answered, crossing his arms over his chest. "If we're going to do this, Liam over here will have to look at it, the entirety of it, as a business. One business. One organism. You will be operating everything. That means my medicine and your drugs. Together. For the sake of consistency and to protect ourselves."

Liam scoffed, then shook his head lightly. Louis looked over his shoulder, demanding he looks at Zayn's proposal with seriousness.

"Fine. I got it."

"And you answer to me."

"No, he doesn't-" Louis cut him off.

"Oh, yes he does." Zayn proceeded, continuing his role. "Inside the company, both the CFO and COO answer to me. We work together towards the same, but the CEO gets the final say in anything financial or operational. It's like that in any organisation and I'm assuming it's not different in whatever it is you do, Louis."

"I believe you're taking steps that are wider than your stride, Zayn."

"How so?" Zayn inquired with a shrug. "You want this to look as legit as possible, correct? So, the only way for it to happen is for Liam here to understand his role within the company and play the part."

"What if he doesn't?"

"Then, we have no deal." Zayn shrugged again. "I go back to being almost bankrupt and you to doing whatever it was that you were doing."

Louis showed him a smile, then a chuckle. The boss clapped in surprise, then pointed at him.

"Aren't you a little fucker, huh?" He commented. "Fine. Liam here will be the perfect employee. He'll study your company and the routes and the product and whatever the fuck you think to be necessary to play the part accordingly. Anything else, sir?"

"Yes. Two more things: You are just a member of the board. That's it. You want something that goes to the table for votes. If it doesn't pass, it doesn't pass. You come to all the meetings, you respect everyone, and you play the game. You are going to be let in without a vote, under the guise of being an investor - which, if anyone knows who you are, is already suspicious enough. So, I suggest you also play your part and keep to your minimum services."

Louis crossed his arms over his chest, taking in the comment from Zayn who kept with a raised chin and confidence.

"You got it," Louis hissed. "Anything else?"

"You don't touch my people. My employees are off-limits. All of them. Anything you need and want, you come to me. I'm your point."

"Fair."

"One last thing," Zayn added. "I want Jeff Azoff out."

"Out?"

"Of everything. I don't want him around. Simon Cowell too."

"That's fair," Louis responded. "How are you planning to do that?"

"I'll ask for a meeting on Monday, you'll be presented as a new member and Liam as COO. I'll have the motion to remove him and Simon Cowell from the Board, on the account of allowing money to be stolen from Innov back when my father was in charge and not doing anything to stop it." Zayn added. "And you will vote in my favour."

"Jeff said he was the most powerful one at the table."

"Sure," Zayn replied with a shrug. "But if he leaves, that means...there's room for another decision-maker to pop up. Do you want it?"

"I couldn't possibly betray him like that."

"Or you could. I don't want him at my table."

Louis scoffed a little, wandering around the office. Then, he walked up to Zayn standing ever so close and facing menacingly.

"I find it funny how you're this close to losing everything and here you stand making demands."

"I understand what you're saying but, from where I'm standing, I'm the one with the network you want. I have an option of spending more money on that raw product - which is unfortunate, but an option still. I could squeeze every penny and get it. You, on the other hand, could not reach the other side of the world even if you wanted to. It's cheaper for you to use me, as it is cheaper for me to use you."

They both faced one other, sizing up their dicks and seeing who would blink first. In the end, Louis showed him a perfect smile full of teeth.

"You know it's common at the beginning of relationships for both sides to give in. It builds trust and companionship. So, this is me giving in."

Louis showed him his hand and Zayn took it. They shook on it, with a firm grip.

"Great," Zayn responded. "I also want a sample so we can assess it."

"Of course,"

"I'll see you Monday."

Zayn was preparing to remove his hand, but Louis kept a strong hold on it.

"I like you, Zayn." Louis added, keeping his hand in place "I like this drain-the-swamp attitude. And because you're cleaning the house, I decided to be a helping hand. I suggest you call your sister."

Zayn froze, hearing Louis's suggestion.

"My sister?"

"Sometimes, draining the swamp includes family, my friend. You know the sister I'm talking about." Louis dropped his hand, then removed his smile. "See you Monday.

Zayn felt numb after that comment, unsure of what to do or what to say next. It had hit him so hard; he didn't remember walking up to his car and sitting behind the wheel. He was hoping to feel successful and relieved, but instead, he felt more anxious. Louis's comment rang in his head for him to call his sister.

Could Doniya be involved...?

No, she couldn't.

She wouldn't.

Did she hate him that much to want to see him fail?

He sat behind the wheel of the Continental, with his mind rushing. He pressed the button on the centre console, calling home.

"Hi, Safira," Zayn responded. "Listen, has Doni come around?"

"Doniya?"

"Yes?"

"Erm...I had no idea she was in London." The governess wondered with surprise. "When has she arrived?"

"I saw her a couple of days ago..." Zayn commented. "Wait...she hasn't come around the house?"

"No," Safira responded. "Which is quite unusual."

Zayn looked around noticing that something was wrong.

"Okay..." He responded. "Are mum and the girls at the house?"

"No, they have left," Safira responded. "Rob took them."

"Okay..." Zayn responded, looking around. "Don't tell mum Doni is in London. I'll...I'll see that she comes around."

"Very well..."

"Hey..." Zayn called. "Has...Has Harry arrived yet?"

"Not yet. Want me to call him?"

"No, no, no..." Zayn responded. "Let him be."

Zayn ended the call, focusing on the trouble ahead, letting Harry have his moment with his mother. He knew where he could find Doniya - so he made his way towards it.

Harry stood against the sink cleaning one of his old mugs. Behind him, his mother, Gemma and Michael spoke amicably sharing with him all the stories, news and gossip he had missed over the five years.

Harry listened to it all. He didn't add much because he was just concentrating on their voices and their reactions. How much had he missed them! He had missed their voices, the unnecessary gossip, and the feeling of being loved and welcomed at his house. He was thankful that Zayn had brought him there and he made a mental note to give him extra love that night. Anything he wanted.

The thought of it made him sweat already.

"He's very handsome," Anne whispered, with a soft nudge on his arm. "And very kind."

Harry tried to hide the smile, by picking up another mug to wash.

"He's my boss..."

"And a very handsome one." Harry rinsed the mug, then sat it aside. He grabbed a plate and began rubbing it with a sponge. "You were looking at him in a very specific way."

"In what way?"

"In an, I like him kind of way."

Harry scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You're dreaming."

"Gemma?" Anne asked, turning to her daughter who sat at the table with Michael. "What did you think of Harry's new boss?"

"Very handsome," Gemma responded, with Michael nodding in agreement. "He likes Harry."

Harry groaned, then shook his head. He tried to keep his composer, but inside he was all giddy and his butterflies kept flapping inside his heart. He rinsed the small plate and picked up a glass.

"Good God, ladies."

"Well, I agree..." Michael added with a smile. "You two seemed very close."

"Boy, if Michael says so, then I need to watch my back," Harry mumbled, putting the glass away. He then grabbed a towel to wipe his hands. He turned to his family who watched him with a light grin. "Seriously, he's just my boss and was kind enough to bring me here. Can we just drop it now?"

Anne placed a hand on Harry's face, stroking his face softly. The driver kissed her palm welcoming her demonstration of affection.

"Will you stay?"

"I can't," Harry responded softly. "I need to go. I'm still working today."

"Can't you ask for the day off?"

"I just started Mum; I don't want to be making waves. I shouldn't even be here right now, Zayn was...kind enough to bring me."

"Oh..." Anne wrapped him in another hug, for the hundredth time that morning. "I am so happy that you're out of jail and away from those two!"

"I'm sorry," Harry responded. "I should've...I should have listened to you and done things correctly. Went to school, then Uni and have a decent job."

"It doesn't matter now," Anne responded. "You're done with them. It's what matters. They can stop lurking around my house like bloody vultures. The only decent one is Roman...I invited him for tea a couple of times. He's a decent one."

"I told Louis I don't want none of them around the house. Or at Gemma's. If any of them shows up, tell me...I'll deal with it."

"Yes, boss..." Gemma responded with a firm salute. "We're going to London to see a venue for the wedding. Do you need a ride?"

"Oh?" Harry asked with surprise. "So, you're going forward with it."

"Yes," Gemma responded, leaning closer to Michael who kissed her cheek. "But we are just checking."

"That's great. Any dates?"

"The sooner, the better," Michael responded, wrapping his arm around Gemma. "You're here now. You can walk her down the aisle."

"Me?" Harry asked with surprise. "I don't...I don't...Why don't we ask Dad?"

The room grew quiet with the uncomfortable question, which they all knew the answer to. Gemma and Harry's father would remain a distant figure in the shadows.

"I want you." Gemma got up from her seat, coming close to her brother. "Will you? Walk me down?"

Harry smiled, then moved into the hug. "Of course,"

"And you can have Zayn as your plus one."

The driver let go of the hug and sighed "All right. Can we get going now before I get fired?"

Harry said his goodbyes to his mother, who showered him with kisses and affection. He promised he'd call as soon as he got time and he'd visit during the week. Anne cried a bit more, not wanting him to leave, but she held strong and waved from the steps as they rode off to the capital.

Harry sat in the backseat, looking out the window, listening to Michael and Gemma talk about the wedding. He had nothing to add but asked the right questions for them to keep engaged and discuss amongst themselves. The issue eventually died, with them driving in silence listening to the radio. Harry took out his phone and wanted nothing more than to call Zayn, but they agreed in being discreet. Texting was not discreet.

So, he kept the phone away and looked out the window. His memory brought snapshots of the previous night. Of Zayn laying next to him, completely his. Lean body, covered in ink, with a welcoming size and smelling like sex. Harry watched him a couple of times, not daring to move away from him and wanting to keep the image of Zayn at his side forever seared into his brain.

After the club had quieted, after the lights had turned off, all Harry did was watch Zayn fall into slumber after the orgasm. One hand on his stomach, one leg stretched and another curved and his face to the side. Harry didn't even dare touch him, afraid it was a mirage or a dream. His heart drummed against his chest and a smile sat on his lips. Could this be it?

In the quietness of the night, he allowed that feeling to wash over him. That feeling that all the love songs described that poets would flare in amazing words or that the movies would create amazing soundtracks too? He didn't even dare to move, so the feeling wouldn't escape his heart. The tips of his fingers were tingly, excitement bubbling inside his stomach, and he was hyper-focused.

"I can feel you staring at me,"

"I'm sorry..." Harry whispered, kissing his cheek. "You look beautiful."

"Oh my God, you're so corny..." Zayn mumbled, turning to the side, desperately needing to sleep it off. Harry nestled behind him, with a hand over his stomach and keeping him close. He left soft kisses on Zayn's shoulder and neck. "I need to sleep..."

"You're tired?"

"You've been riding me like crazy, of course, I'm tired."

"I'll go easy on you."

"No, don't..." Zayn yawned. "I like it."

"I know," Harry answered, rubbing his hand on his flat stomach. "Sleep. I'll be here."

"Watching over me like a hawk..."

"Very much..."

Harry kissed his neck again, finding his space behind him. Zayn nestled into him and the two were glued together on that bed.

It had been a sweet and unexpected night. They talked so much, explored even more, and went high on the mountain of pleasure. Harry loved that high and wanted nothing more than to have it in a bottle so he could open and drink it. He wanted that feeling every night, at all moments, until the rest of his life.

Was it rushed to wish Zayn to be by his side forever?

"Hey..." Gemma called, looking over his shoulder. "Is this it?"

Harry looked out the window, seeing the gates to the gated community. He had been so wrapped in his memories he didn't even see the time rush by.

"Yeah," Harry responded, taking off his seatbelt. "I'll walk the rest of the way."

"We can take you, mate." Michael offered.

"Nah, it's fine." Harry leaned between the seats dropped a loud kiss on his sister's cheek and touched Michael on the shoulder. "I want to know everything about the venue, okay?"

"Deal," Gemma responded with a smile.

"Hey, I still have...you know what..." Harry answered, looking at her. "Just say the word and it's yours."

"I don't want it, Harry," Gemma responded with resolve. "I want nothing that comes from Louis or Liam or any of them."

"I want to give you something."

"Your presence is more than enough." 

Harry got out of the car and headed into the gates of the community. The door attendant opened a side door for him, and he stepped inside the premises, leaving his sister and brother-in-law to go on their way. Harry walked up the road, welcoming the walk up to the house. From a distance he saw some of the other mansions, imagining what could be happening inside those massive walls.

He walked without a hurry or stress, loving the soft breeze blowing over him and always with a smile on his face. He was jumping on clouds, wanting to run and climb trees. He was overjoyed and amazed at how he could feel all these emotions still.

He felt Zayn's touch on his cheek with the wind and the softness of his lips with the sun shining on him. He was...in heaven.

Moving up ahead, the house was close enough and he added a light jog to his step. Once the house came into full view, Harry stopped looking at it. His lover was somewhere in there, waiting for him.

He came up the driveway but noticed something curious.

The Continental was nowhere to be seen.

"Hi!" Harry turned to catch Camille walking by with a basket of clothes in hand. "Good morning. Or is it an afternoon at this point?"

"Hi!" Harry responded, trying not to seem too alarmed at the fact that Zayn's car was not there. "Sorry. I went to see my mum."

"I heard," Camille answered, coming closer. "How was it?"

"Erm..." Harry focused on the young girl, while his brain shot question after question. "It was...It was nice. Always good to see mum."

"Great,"

He looked back at the house not seeing the Bentley and frowned.

"Isn't...Is Mr Malik around?"

"Oh, no," Camille responded. "He went to a meeting and then called Safira about something. But, he hasn't come home yet."

"When was this?"

"I don't know...one, maybe two hours ago."

"Huh..."

Harry grabbed his phone and saw nothing from him. In a moment of impulsivity, letting discretion fly out the window, he texted Zayn.

Harry: Hi. Just got to the house and you're not here.

Everything okay?

No answer or acknowledgement of the message was received.

"Hey, listen..." Camille interjected, taking him out of the spin of worry. "The pub up the road will host a game night tonight. Want to go?"

"Game night?"

"Yeah!" Camille responded. "It's fun, I promise. Just general knowledge questions, tasty food, and cheap drips. The winner gets a bottle of champagne."

"Interesting..." Harry responded. He wanted to stay home and possibly wait for Zayn, but he knew that wouldn't be very discreet. "Sure."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, sure. Thank you, Camille. I'd love to."

Camille turned red and showed a gigantic smile "Yeah. No. No problem."

"Cool."

"Ermm so..." Camille began to walk away, holding the basket. "I'll knock on your door around...6h00?"

"Sure,"

"Good..." She responded with a giggle. "It's a date!"

The woman turned and began walking back to the house. Again, Harry looked at the entryway not seeing the Bentley.

He grabbed his phone, dialling Zayn's number, but received no response as it rang without end.

"Honey, where are you?" He asked himself, feeling anxious about distance.

The city of London was beautiful from the heights. It had this air where old and new met in a perfect dance of architecture. Watching the city unfold and roar from above was extraordinary. One could feel like the king of the world.

And Doniya felt like that.

She wasn't evil. Of course not. She didn't resent anyone either. The oldest of the Maliks was just trying to prove a point: just because you were born with male genitalia, it did not make you the best at anything. 

She loved her family: her father, her mother, her sisters, and her brother. She would be the first one to step into the line of fire and take all the bullets for them. However, the young woman didn't feel as if the family would do the same for her. While she would defend her siblings until kingdom come, most of the time she felt like her voice wasn't heard or her needs understood.

Since the beginning, Yaser had informed that Zayn would be taking the Chair, whether he liked it or not. No matter how much Doniya fought it or argued, the answer would always be the same.

"You should find your water to swim," Yaser would answer and that would make her angry. Making her feel like she wasn't good enough to front a company or to make big decisions. "It's not that I don't trust you. I just think you would be better at other things."

"But not to run the company you've built."

"Build something for yourself, Doni. I believe in you. If anyone could do it, it would be you."

"Not Zayn, though. You'll protect him until the end of the world."

"I'll protect all of you. Zayn is different. He shall carry our legacy as the only male Malik. You will build your own. I am giving you that power. Some would say I am empowering you, Doni. Can't you see?"

And the argument would go around and around in circles. Doniya argued she was more than fit for the crown, while her father wished she'd pursue something else. A project of her own. Something in fashion like Saffaa or maybe working closely with the Foundation like Waliya.

"You want me to focus on anything else aside from making money."

"If making money is your goal, then maybe you shouldn't be in the business at all," Yaser replied calmly. He was always calm. Always secure in his words, even when Doni would scream at him for a chance. He never raised his voice. Never moved against her. Out of love and respect. "The only thing I can tell you is that I believe in you."

So, when Doniya decided to take matters into her own hands, it wasn't out of spite. It was to prove a point: Zayn wasn't better than her, he was just lucky to be born with the right genitalia. She would prove that even the best could falter in front of a crisis. That even precious Zayn couldn't save a sinking ship. And she would work long and hard to prove that point. Even if it meant that, at the end of it all, there would be nothing but rubble where her legacy once stood.

The ringing bell drove her out of her distant thoughts. The oldest sister walked away from the window, leaving her steaming mug full of tea on the coffee table and headed to the door. Her apartment was this spacious loft penthouse, overlooking London. With high windows, a lot of light and decorated with light colours, it felt like one was in heaven.

The sister peeked through the hole and immediately cursed.

"Fuck..."

Somehow, deep inside, she knew that this visit wasn't just a visit. Things were moving and moving fast. She knew that Louis and Jeff had put her brother against the wall. And, even offered to reveal the author of the money leak -This was not a courtesy call. The woman opened the door, to find her brother on the other side with a heavy frown.

"Hi, Doni."

Doniya stepped to the side to welcome her brother into her breathtaking and expensive loft overlooking the city. Zayn entered her flat, going straight to the living room and the woman followed.

"What can I get ya?"

"Nothing. Why haven't you been home?"

Right out the gate, without any ceremony. So, this is what it was going to be like. Fair enough.

"Didn't feel like it."

"Didn't feel like visiting your mother?"

She rolled her eyes and sighed. Sometimes Zayn could be so self-righteous and desperate to do the right thing.

"I just needed a moment before being love bombed by her, okay? I need to be ready."

"She's your mother!"

"I know!" She cut through the air. "It's my method, okay?"

"Do you do this...every time you come to visit? Lurk for two days before showing up?"

"Yes, I do. Can you keep a secret or you're going to rat me out like you did when we were children?"

"I didn't rat you out. I never did."

"Debatable," Doniya responded, reaching for her mug. "What do you want? Was that it? To scold me because I haven't run to our mother's lap yet?"

Doniya sat there seeing the wheels turn in his mind. He paced a bit, biting his lip and looking at every single place but her for anything. She knew what this was, but she would give him space. Could be something else entirely.

Then, Zayn turned to her and asked:

"Do you know Louis Tomlinson?"

She could've lied. She could've.

However, Doniya was not a liar. She was a fighter, very clever. She could even mislead or omit things, but never a liar. Lying was a cheap shot and only people with no brains and little intellect, afraid to face the music would lie.

"Yes," She responded with a raised chin. "He's my friend."

"Your friend?"

"Yes," She repeated. "For a while now. I love The Velvet. It's a very nice place."

"You go there?"

"Hm-hm. I like the vibe; I get free drinks and I've met a ton of people there."

Zayn paced a little bit more, trying to find the right question to ask later.

"Do you know what he does for a living?"

"He's a drug dealer." She added with a light shrug. Zayn went livid with how casually she responded to his question. "Heroin. A little bit of cocaine too. Did weed back in the day but stopped. Works closely with Liam Payne and had another partner, but he's no longer in the scene. He went to jail or died or something. I don't know. But yes...I know him. He's my friend."

Time ticked slowly for the two siblings who tried their best. Zayn was trying to manoeuvre the information he had in his hands and Doni was just waiting for the shoe to drop. So, she decided to push further.

"How do you know him, Zayn?"

Zayn lost his voice for a moment. Not knowing what to say or where to turn. Eventually, he found the voice and stood with his back straight.

"He made an offer I couldn't refuse."

"To use his heroin to make our product because it's cheaper?" Doniya concluded. It was funny to see the look of surprise on Zayn's face. He always made the most amazing reactions. It wasn't that she enjoyed seeing him shocked, it was just funny. "Okay, let's skip all of this and go straight ahead: It's me. It's been me. I'm the only one stealing from the company. I got 85 million. Five years in the making, leading to this moment. I purchased software from this...kid and I've been operating it."

"What?" Zayn asked. "How...How could you do that-? Why would you do that?"

"To prove a point," Doniya responded, placing her mug back on the coffee table. "That I should be running it, not you."

"So, you decide to steal from our company-"

"Technically, it was never mine." She explained. "From the beginning of time, Dad always said that you would be the one ahead of Innov. You. The boy who didn't want to do it, who didn't particularly care for it and wasn't necessarily good at it. I got better grades than you, I interned there, I and spent most of my afternoons there with Dad. Me. I know that company inside out and yet...the Chair has been offered to you. Dad did all those bad investments; we were losing money already and the only way to save it was to give it to the one who did not want the toy. Not, the one who wanted it, who has studied it and believed in it, but the man who never wanted it. Unfair, to say the least."

"You're..." Zayn looked for words inside his mind. "You're evil. You're bloody insane, Doni. You want to destroy what we have just because you didn't get it? That makes no fucking sense."

"No! No, no. It's more than that Zayn!" Doni argued. "It's you being the chosen one when you can't do it. You don't want it! You don't want to sit in that Chair and have those responsibilities. I know that! Want to know how I know? Because you were losing sleep, not eating, and stressed about the simple decision to fire people, Zayn. If I were at the top, I wouldn't even bat an eye and I wouldn't grovel for their sympathy as you did. It's business. People get fired every day! If you wanted it, you would've done it without skipping a beat or losing your sleep. I would also have taken Louis Tomlinson's deal on the spot and not run for the hills as you did."

Zayn took offence at her words, glaring at his sister.

"Do you hate me that much?"

"I don't hate you; I love you. I love our family. What I want...is a chance. Is a voice, Zayn! It's the opportunity to be doing what I want to do."

"You have a business, Doni. You've made something out of yourself. You're trying to justify your act...which is destructive and bloody selfish, as feminist struggle!"

"I hate it!" She got up and began pacing about the living room. "It's ridiculous! I do nothing but talk to French women who want to get rid of the bloody wrinkles on their faces. It's a box! It's ridiculous! I am a shark, Zayn. I have money, knowledge, expertise, and connections. I could be doing so much but the door has not been open to me."

"You've always had a voice, Doni. Why didn't you come to the board meeting? I wanted you all there."

"Because Mum took the lead and did not give me a chance. She just...acted as our proxy. If I hadn't asked, I wouldn't even know the meeting was happening, Zayn. That's how ridiculous it is! And it's only with me...Safaa and Wali have none of this bullshit because they agreed. I don't agree...so I'm kicked out!"

"No one kicked you out. We love you."

"It's not about love!" Doni argued, coming to her brother, and holding his hands. "Listen to me: I deserve to be sitting in that Chair. I want it. I deserve it. It should be mine. I love you, Zayn...but you're not the man for it. And I know you'd be happier with your little team, in the basement, doing whatever experiments with marijuana that you were doing. Or even leaving together! And that is fine!"

Zayn watched his sister, feeling his heartbreak with disappointment, but also understanding where she was coming from.

"So, you're in on it. On all of it?"

"Yes," Doniya responded, coming clean "I've been working with Louis since the beginning, it took him a little convincing, but he managed to do it."

"What about Jeff?"

"He knows about it. Simon too - in fact, Simon caught me and took it to Jeff." Doni responded. "They know Louis too and they had a business together."

"The three of you. Ganged up to fuck me over."

"Never to fuck you over, Zayn!" Doniya responded. "The initial plan was for Jeff to suggest me to Dad and for Louis to come in as a solution. It was never meant to fuck you over; it was meant to prove a point."

Zayn watched his sister carefully, understanding the level of her betrayal. He understood how Doni would've felt left out and kept in a box that wouldn't allow her to do anything else than what she was conditioned to do. He wanted nothing but her happiness and to give her whatever she wanted. He understood how years of her voice having stolen and being conditioned to do something could hurt her ego, making her act out of spite.

"You stole from us."

"I still have the money. I have it in an account offshore. The entirety of it. I'll give it back. Every cent of it...If you step down and let me be Chair. I'll make everything right. I promise. I'll deal with Louis, and I'll make everything right."

Zayn sat down on the sofa, unable to understand where to go and what to do.

"So, if you took the Chair you would still work with Tomlinson, even if you didn't need to?"

"Yes!" She responded. Doniya sat across from her brother. "I'm not an idiot. He has a point! He has a cheaper product, and we could use it. You can't deny that it's a great offer. With that 85 million back and a cheaper product, I would take this company to the stars, Zayn! Fuck Pfizer. Fuck Johnson & Johnson. Fuck Bayer. It would be us. At the top. Global control and global market. I could take us there. In a blink of an eye."

Zayn went quiet for a moment. The young CEO stood from his seat, then wandered about the apartment, standing by the windows looking down at London. Doniya could see his wheels turning and him pondering every scenario.

"You know..." Zayn added, turning around. "If you had asked me to take the Chair, I'd give it to you. I'd willingly had it over because you were right, I didn't want it. I wanted to do something else. Do you honestly believe I wanted to be sitting behind a desk? No. My dreams went further than this....and, if you feel you didn't have a voice, you think I did?'

'You said it: Dad kept putting me on this pedestal, locked me in place and I had no choice but to do this. It's our family legacy! If you had come to me, saying you wanted this, I'd give it to you, Doni. It would be yours in a heartbeat.

'But, these past two months, despite the stress and the physical toll...I took it. I worked on it. And, sadly, I'm not giving it up. Now more than ever, knowing that it was a ploy from you."

Doniya slumped with surprise.

"You're not?"

"I'm not, Doni," Zayn added. "Keep the 85 million, I'm working with what I have. You gave me a broken toy and I'll fix it to the best of my abilities."

Zayn gathered himself, then headed out the door of the apartment.

"What about the police, genius?" Doniya shouted at him. "You have a lot of faith that the members of the board are not going to inform the police that a known drug dealer is sitting at the table. Soon enough, they will be knocking on your door and asking questions. If you let me take Chair, I can give back the money, keep Tomlinson on a short leash and mask it all. No one would know."

"No," Zayn responded. "I'll do it. And you should be the one concerned with the police."

"Why?"

"Because you stole from us, Doniya!" Zayn shot back. "Hello? It's a fucking crime!"

"Do you have proof?" She asked calmly, making Zayn go quiet. "Do you have proof that it was me stealing? That it was my spyware? An Ip address? A network? A computer? Anything that links that software to me? No. So...technically, you have zero actual proof that I did anything unless I confess. However, if we look at what you've been pulling...working with a known drug dealer? Going outside the regulated list for products? And who knows...maybe you stole the money! It seems to me like you have a lot more to worry about than me, baby brother."

Doniya watched his face harden. It could've been so much simpler if he just handed the Chair to her and let her be in charge. It would've been so much easier and simpler, but no. Zayn wanted the hard way.

"Does Dad know?"

Doniya tilted her head to the side and sighed. "What do you think, Zayn? Have you ever heard Dad scream at me or say no?"

"She did what?" Niall's voice echoed in his back garden.

Zayn sat across from him, by the pool with a beer in hand and the other resting on the side of his head. Niall's house was a beautiful home, further away from London in a quiet and welcoming neighbourhood where children could ride their bikes in the street and the neighbours would greet good morning to people walking by.

After the rough conversation with his sister, Zayn he knew he needed to vent and share his anguish with someone who could understand him. So, he went to his best friend's house to share the burden in his heart.

"It was her? Your bloody sister?"

"Yeah..." Zayn mumbled, looking at the beer in his hand. "85 million through some spyware thing...I don't know..."

"All of this because she wanted to be in charge..."

"I mean, I get it."

"You do?"

"Yes," Zayn added, looking at the pool with clear water. "Imagine you wanted something, and no one gave you the chance, but handed it to someone who didn't want it in the first place. If I couldn't have it, then I'd wreck it. It just...makes sense to me."

"You're way too kind..." Niall responded, leaning back on his long chair. "So, what are we going to do about it?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"What, you want me to go to the authorities and accuse my sister of espionage and corporate theft?" Zayn asked with an arched eyebrow. "I couldn't do that. I would never do that. Arguing with Doniya is a lost fight. She's stubborn and will get hers no matter what. Besides, she's not stealing it anymore. She's stopped...maybe because we caught on. And she's willing to give it back."

"Then, take the money back," Niall responded. "We would use the money, Zayn. We're struggling here."

"I can't, Niall. She won't give me the money unless I step down."

The friend tilted his head to the side. "Mate, you would gladly step down before. Hell, you were willing to give it to me."

"That was before. I'm not going to back down when the shit hits the fan. Now, more than ever."

"What do you mean?"

Zayn looked at Niall thinking of the best way to break the news of a very controversial partnership. He looked around to see if Amelia wasn't anywhere to be found and if no prying ears were close by to hear. Carefully, he placed the beer down and stared at his friend.

"Mate, I'm going to need you to stay calm."

Slowly, Niall sat up.

"I have a bad feeling."

"Relax. Let's breathe-"

"Oh, for fucks sake, just tell me. Tell me. Rip it off and tell me."

So, Zayn did.

He opened his mouth and told about Jeff's involvement with Louis's Tomlinson and how much it would cost them. It felt good to share the burden with someone else, but looking at Niall's face, the young CEO wondered if it was even the best idea. With every word, Niall grew paler and paler. He was panicking. Afraid. When Zayn finished telling what happened and the proposal he had been offered, the CFO said nothing.

Instead, Niall got up and headed to the pool bar.

"Niall?" Zayn called, but the friend didn't reply. Instead, he poured himself a glass of scotch and drank it in one go. "Mate, talk to me." Again, Niall didn't reply and just drank another glass. "Niall..."

"Do you understand the level of fucked up we are in?" He asked, turning around suddenly. Niall walked back with the bottle in hand. He sat down heavily, pouring himself another glass. "A drug dealer...a fucking cartel sitting at the board table. That's insane. It's insane."

"Do you see me with another choice?"

"Yes, I do! Give it back to Doni, she wanted it so much and she knows the truth. It would be a friendly gathering between them."

"Niall...I can't do that now..."

"Jail, Zayn Malik!" Niall warned. "In your future, mine and everyone involved. Jail! We are accomplices to drug trafficking; do you understand that?"

"I do."

"Oh, you do? So, you do realise the magnitude of what you're proposing to do."

"He has something we need, Niall. We will test it out to make sure it's good."

"It doesn't matter if it's the best: we are going to jail, Zayn."

Zayn got up from his seat and stood by the pool.

"I am committed now. Moving away would be the easier option..." He explained. "It will be just for a little while."

"It's never for a little while." Niall moaned, pouring another glass. "In movies, it's never a little while and someone always ends up with their kneecaps broken or a bullet to the head."

"That won't happen."

"How do you know, Zayn? Jesus! I'd rather we go bankrupt. You should've talked to me."

Niall kept drinking and mumbling to himself.

Inadvertently, his eyes wandered to Zayn's phone resting on the beach chair, just as it pinged with a text. He saw it light up and curiously, the friend leaned over. That's when he saw something interesting and surprising.

Something so shoking and surprising that made him forget the issue at hand.

Harry:

Honey, can you please answer me? I'm getting worried

Is everything okay?

And he nearly fell off his chair.

"Hold on!" Niall demanded, reaching over to the phone, and touching the screen. He saw that Harry had sent another text an hour or so ago and had called twice. Immediately, he stood up. "Hold the fuck on-"

"What are you doing with my phone?"

Niall turned to him with wide eyes.

"Two questions: Why is Harry texting and..." Niall turned the phone to Zayn. "Why is he calling you honey?"

Zayn froze at his question. The two friends stared at one another with one wanting to know and the other not knowing what to say. Seconds ticked by before Zayn moved forward.

"Give me my phone-"

"No," Niall stepped away from the friend, holding the phone in his hand. "Answer me first."

"We have bigger issues at hand right now, Niall-"

"No, we don't. We don't-"

Zayn lunged for the phone again and Niall dodged him, keeping the phone on him.

"You're acting like a child-"

"Tell me and I'll give you the phone-"

"There's nothing to tell!"

Then, Niall gasped and pointed at him.

"You said the same thing when I asked you about Ben..." Then, he gasped dramatically again. "Oh my God, you're fucking the driver. Again!"

Zayn lunged over and grabbed the phone, reading the text quickly. He didn't reply, instead, he pocketed the device.

"Can we focus, now?"

"No, no. No, no." Niall argued. "I can't focus. I need details."

"There are no details."

"Bloody fuck there are details. I want to know! You need to tell me, and I won't let go until I know."

Zayn looked at his friend, feeling defeated already.

"Fine! We slept together." Niall gasped a third time. "All right, relax..."

"You dog-"

"It's not like that-"

"It's not? How is it? Tell me. Drown me in sordid details, mate."

Zayn searched for words within him for a moment, letting them fill his heart, making way through all the madness of that day. The breeze brought Harry's smell still on the coat he was wearing.

"It wasn't just...sex," Zayn confessed, thinking of Harry for the first time in a couple of hours. He felt Harry's lips on his cheek. "It was...something else. Something more."

"Oh my God..." Niall responded with a smile. Then, he lunged forward hugging Zayn with a stronghold. "Mate..."

Zayn padded him on the back. "Yes, yes...thank you..."

The young CFO broke the hug, keeping a strong grip on his arms.

"So...you like him or...?"

"Niall, we really should be focusing on our issue and not on-"

"Fuck that. That can wait. Your sister, the drugs, the money, can wait. I want to know if you...I live vicariously through you and your nasty escapades."

"It wasn't a nasty escapade," Zayn explained, looking up at the sky and looking for words that could help describe what was going on inside his chest. "Harry is...he's...so much more. He's...I don't know...I don't think I can find the words just yet, but...He...sets me on fire."

"On fire?"

"Yes," Zayn responded with a smile. "He's...unique and fascinating and...Harry. I...I don't know, this looks like a dream and I'm still in a fog whenever I think of him, but...I can't help it."

"That is the most beautiful thing I've ever heard you say."

Zayn smiled again, feeling warm.

"Now, can we focus on the problem at hand?"

"Sure, mate."

Later that afternoon...

After spending the afternoon with Niall going over the strategy for the future, Zayn finally headed home. He expected to find Harry there, waiting for him. The smile on his lips, dimples and green eyes invited him.

Instead, when he got inside the house, he found it quiet. Safira appeared from the side welcoming home.

"The house is quiet." Zayn noticed entering the living room.

"Yes," Safira responded. "Zora and I are almost finishing so we can go home on Sunday."

"Yes, of course," Zayn responded, slumping down on the sofa. "Has Harry arrived, then?"

"Yes, earlier today. But he's not in."

Zayn frowned looking up.

"Oh?"

"He went out with Camille. The pub is doing game night and she's a fan."

"Game night?"

"Yes, a thing for the youngster."

"They went...together?"

"Yes," Safira responded. "She was excited. I believe she might have a little...crush on Harry."

Zayn sat up immediately, his mind rustling about with possibilities.

"Huh..."

"Are you sure you're okay with me leaving? I don't mind staying and keeping you company."

"No, no..." Zayn responded, with his mind picturing Harry and Camille having fun. "Go. Enjoy your weekend. I'll see you Monday."

"Very well. There's food in the fridge."

"Thank you."

Safira let Zayn to his own devices. The young CEO grabbed his phone, saw Harry's texts, and missed calls.

Excusing discretion, he grabbed his phone:

The seconds ticked before Harry's speech bubble popped up.

Harry: There you are.

I was worried.

Harry: I did call and text.

You could've returned my calls.

Harry: She's nice.

And she would've answered my texts.

Another second before another text came by.