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CHAPTER ONE
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2026-02-19 14:45:21Lance ran down the halls of his college, books slipping out of his bag. He checked his watch and groaned.
As he turned the corner into his class, he paused. All eyes were on him, especially Mrs. Lawson. She was an old, wrinkly woman Lance often described as a witch. “You’re late, Mr. Walton,” she said, her words slow and dragged out. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly with a smirk. “Well, you know… traffic and all.” She looked at him with one eyebrow raised. “You can’t keep doing this. I will have to give a puni—” Before she could finish, Lance pulled out a rose from his bag and handed it to her, flashing her his most charming smile. “I saw this rose and decided my beautiful teacher needed it. It suits your gorgeous hair,” he said with a charming smile. Mrs. Lawson blushed and looked away before clearing her throat. “Well… I can pardon you for today but if you do this again I will report you to the dean of students affairs” “Thank you, You're the best Mrs Law” he smirked before walking to his seat. That was just one of the many things Lance managed to get away with. What else would you expect from the top basketball player at Bradford University, with a smile that could make any girl’s knees weak? But Lance only had eyes for one girl, Ylva, his girlfriend of a year. He used to be known for his playboy nature. He had never committed to anyone or anything before her. After class, he was walking down the hallway when he saw her looking through her locker. He walked over and leaned against the locker beside hers. “Hey,” he said, his voice low with a smirk. She turned to him with a small smile. Her green eyes glowed, and her long black hair fell over her face. “Hey you” “Did you miss me?" He said moving close to her. She looked up at him with a smirk, “Maybe" He placed his hands on either side of her, trapping her against the lockers, his voice going into a deep rumble, “Do you want me to make up for that?" "Do you?”. “Mhmm” His face was just inches from hers when they heard someone clear their throat from behind. “Get a room" some random guy said as he laughed. Lance's jaw tightened in mock frustration and Ylva just chuckled. He slowly took a step back, shoving his hand into his pocket. “Do you want to get lunch together?” he asked. She nodded. They both walked to the cafeteria, ordered food and began eating but he could see the tension on her face “Is everything okay?" He asked, concern etched on his face. She sighed “Well it's about my dad" Lance's blood ran cold at that, his eyes widened “What about him". “He wants to meet you Lance" she said with a nervous smile "What?, I can't meet your dad, he's, well you dad, oh crap “ he ran a hand through his hair as a nervous habit. "He wants to know the person I'm with, and if not he will get suspicious and tell us to break up” Ylva responded as she placed a comforting hand over his. Lance sighed, he refused to let himself look like a coward in front of Ylva, so with all the courage he had in him, he spoke “Fine I'll meet your dad” Ylva grinned and hugged him " Oh thank you thank you”. He hugged her back but there was absolute fear in his eyes. Before Lance got with Ylva, he knew the rumors about her, daughter to Ragnar, head of the Russian Mafia. Lance at that time wanted every means to avoid her but God she was beautiful,his resolve broke immediately she looked at him. He thought maybe her father would be too busy with other things to meet his daughter's partner but he thought wrong. Weeks later he was trying to fix up the stupid tie, but it was not Co operating. Ylva who was on his bed saw his turmoil and walked up to him, slapping his hand away and helped him with the tie.. “You're a big baby you know that?" She said as she helped with the final touches of his tie. “Well I'm happy you're here to help me" he smiled as his arms wrapped around her waist then his face went blank again “Crap I'm meeting your dad". She chuckled, “He can be scary sometimes but he honestly isn't bad, he can be nice when he needs to". “After he has killed his victim maybe" Lance mumbled. Hours later and they got to her place, it was like a palace, it was bigger than anything he had ever seen in his life. His jaw dropped " I knew you were rich but I didn't know you were… “ immediately, he felt a pang of self consciousness. He gently took his hand and led him in, inside was even more luxurious, it had gold-plated pillars, and several works of arts, and he swore he had seen some in museums before. She led him to a long dining table where food was already placed out, it was enough food to feed a whole high school. As they settled into their seats, a man in a butlers uniform approached them. “The master is currently in his room, he will be with you shortly". Lance was still trying to adjust his suit, his nerves were all over the place. Several minutes passed and there was no sign of Ragnar, Lance sighed thinking maybe he canceled at the last minute but then his blood ran cold when he heard footsteps coming from behind him. The air in the room felt like it dropped drastically and every hair on his body stood, he didn't know what this feeling was but he didn't like it, at all. "So this is him? “. A deep voice said from behind
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COLLATERAL DESIRE CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY ONE
The estate was mostly quiet by the time Lance came back.Rain had started sometime after midnight, water sliding down the massive windows in thin streams while the guards outside rotated shifts under the dim courtyard lights. Most of the house had gone still hours ago.Ragnar was still awake.Of course he was.He sat in his office with untouched documents spread across the desk, though his attention hadn’t truly been on work for the last hour. His mind kept circling back to Lance leaving with Marcus earlier that evening.The club.The drinking.Marcus’s idea of relaxation.Ragnar already hated it.A knock came at the office door before it slowly opened.One of the guards stepped in carefully.“Sir… Lance is back.”Ragnar looked up immediately.Something in the guard’s expression made his eyes narrow.“What happened.”“He’s drunk.”A pause.Then the guard added carefully, “Very drunk.”Ragnar exhaled once through his nose before standing.That alone was irritating enough. Lance rarely
COLLATERAL DESIRE CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY
Marcus didn’t believe in rest.Not really.To him, a “day off” just meant finding a different kind of violence.The club was loud enough to make thoughts feel distant, bass shaking through the walls and up the floor while lights flashed red and gold across bodies moving too close together. Expensive liquor, expensive perfume, fake laughter. The kind of place filled with people pretending they weren’t dangerous while surrounded by men who actually were.Lance walked beside Marcus through the crowd, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.Women noticed him immediately.Of course they did.He had changed in five years into something impossible not to stare at. Tall, sharp-faced, scar crossing his eye, tattoos peeking from beneath dark clothes, his presence heavy in a way that made people instinctively look twice even when they shouldn’t.Some looked interested.Some looked nervous.Most looked both.Marcus grinned as they entered the VIP section, one arm thrown lazily over the back
COLLATERAL DESIRE CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY NINE
Ragnar’s room was quiet, but unlike the rest of the estate, this silence wasn’t tense.It was suffocating.The kind that pressed against his ribs the longer he sat in it.Rain tapped softly against the windows overlooking the grounds, the dim light from outside spilling faintly across the dark wood of the room. Papers sat abandoned across his desk, untouched for over an hour now. His drink had gone cold beside them.None of it mattered.Because his mind kept circling back to the same person.Lance.Or whatever was left of him.Ragnar leaned back slowly in his chair, fingers pressing against his temple as exhaustion settled deeper into his bones. He rarely allowed himself moments like this. Sitting still meant thinking too much, and thinking too much lately always ended badly.Especially when it came to Lance.He could still see him clearly from earlier.The blood on the corridor floor.The guard choking on his own throat.That grin on Lance’s face after doing it.Oops.Like it was fun
COLLATERAL DESIRE CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY EIGHT
The door clicked shut behind Jungwoo. For a few seconds, he didn’t move. One hand remained on the handle, fingers curled there loosely, as if he could still feel the heat of the room through the wood. The corridor was quiet, long and dimly lit, the kind of silence that usually calmed people. It did nothing for him. His breathing was slower than it should have been. Too measured. Too controlled for what was happening underneath. Then something in his face shifted. The polished amusement he wore so easily cracked at the edges, revealing something sharper beneath it. His eyes darkened, pupils blown wide as the last few minutes replayed themselves with cruel clarity. Lance’s hand around his throat. The sudden force of being driven into the floor. The look in his eyes when he did it. Not hesitation. Not confusion. Something feral. Something that had learned violence so deeply it now lived in his bones. Jungwoo bit down hard on his lower lip. Hard enough to
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Lance’s room was dark except for the narrow strip of moonlight slipping through the curtains.He hadn’t bothered turning the lights on.Darkness made more sense lately.It matched the inside of his head better than anything bright ever could.He sat on the floor beside the bed, knees drawn close, one arm wrapped across his stomach while the other hand dug into the side of his skull hard enough to leave crescent marks. His breathing came unevenly, not frantic, not weak—just strained, like every breath had to fight its way through something lodged in his chest.The voices were back.Not voices in the ordinary sense.Not ghosts.Not madness the way stories described it.They were memories sharpened into sound.Marcus barking orders in that cold amused tone.Men screaming from pain, from fear, from the realization no one was coming to help them.The crack of bone.The wet noise steel made when it entered flesh.His own laughter, louder than the rest.That one always sickened him most.Bec
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The club was built to look expensive.Dark marble floors, low gold lighting, music heavy enough to shake the walls, people dressed like they had never known fear. On the surface it was luxury.Underneath it, everyone important knew what it really was.A distribution point.Money upstairs.Drugs downstairs.Bodies somewhere in between.Ragnar arrived first with two men behind him, expression unreadable as always. He hated places like this—too loud, too crowded, too many angles to watch at once. But Marcus had given direct orders.Go with Lance. Collect the shipment. No mistakes.That alone had irritated him.Because Marcus knew exactly what he was doing by forcing them together.Ragnar stepped through the VIP corridor and immediately saw him.Lance stood near the bar like he owned the room.Black shirt half-open at the throat, sleeves rolled to reveal tattooed forearms, a chain catching the dim light. He looked older than his years now. Harder. Sharper. The softness that used to live i
COLLATERAL DESIRE CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FIVE
Days passed after that night, but whatever had happened between them did not bring back what Ragnar had secretly hoped it might.If anything, it made the loss clearer.Lance still came near him.Still found reasons to linger in rooms Ragnar occupied. Still brushed past him in hallways too closely.
COLLATERAL DESIRE CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FOUR
One evening, after weeks of watching Lance drift further into Marcus’s orbit, Ragnar finally reached a point where restraint felt useless.He had spent too long observing.Too long pretending distance was strategy.Too long standing by while Lance became someone colder each day.So he went to Lance
COLLATERAL DESIRE CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY THREE
Got you. Let’s smooth it out and make it feel more natural, like one continuous scene instead of broken beats.Ragnar noticed it wasn’t just him anymore.It was everyone.The estate had changed in ways nobody could quite name at first. Same walls, same corridors, same routines—but Lance moved throu
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Marcus’ grin widened when he saw the disbelief still sitting on Ragnar’s face.That grin had always meant trouble.“Shall I show you?” he repeated, voice light, almost playful.Before Ragnar could answer, Marcus snapped his fingers.Two men dragged someone from one of the cars and threw him to the
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