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Chapter 41 – In the Dark

last update publish date: 2026-03-18 16:05:02

Oliver

The wait is absolute fucking torture.

I can’t see a thing.

The padded silk blindfold blocks out every trace of light, plunging me into a thick, suffocating void.

My hearing dials up to a terrifying degree, picking up the faint, rhythmic hum of the building's ventilation and the slow, deliberate scuff of Kir’s boots against the hardwood floor.

He’s pacing at the end of the bed.

The lube is cooling against my aching cock, a sticky, agonizing reminder of exactly where he left me.

Every ti
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  • Cracking His Code   Chapter 51 – The Bleed

    KirThe distance across the concrete floor is exactly forty-two feet.I know, because I’ve calculated the precise time it would take me to cross it, rip the monitors off the desk, and smash them into pieces.My hands are curled into fists so tight the knuckles are stark white against my skin. The muscles in my arms and chest are locked, straining against a violent, feral urge to intervene. It takes every ounce of discipline I possess to stay on the opposite side of the warehouse while the man I have come to care about more deeply than I want to admit, is tearing himself to shreds.I watch as Jozef and Ray translate some of the codes for him and he realizes the depth of the lake of depravity he’s being forced to swim in.His breathing hitches, a jagged, broken sound that spears right down into the deepest part of me.The urge to protect him slams through me, sharp and immediate. I want to drag him away from the computer, bury his face in my neck, and shield him from the staggering e

  • Cracking His Code   Chapter 50 – Translation

    OliverI’m still floating in a bubble of euphoria when we arrive at the warehouse.A few hours ago, I was buried under Kir’s crushing weight. I was wrapped in the safest, warmest dark I’ve ever known, listening to the rough drag of his breath against my neck. For a few hours, the syndicate didn't exist. The forty-eight thousand names didn't exist. There was only the brutal, honest reality of what we’re becoming to each other.I felt cared for. Cherished. But the sun is up now and the moment the doors lock behind us with a loud metallic clang, the illusion shatters.The rigid, icy commander slides right back into place, in a seamless and terrifying transformation. His jaw locks. His shoulders square. The whiplash is nauseating.A bitter, jagged resentment claws up the back of my throat. It’s not like I wasn’t expecting it. This isn’t our first day here. He’s shown me exactly who he is in public. But knowing it and surviving it are two very different things.Fuck it. I’ve got sh

  • Cracking His Code   Chapter 49 – Wash Away

    KirOliver hasn’t said a word to me since we left the warehouse. He looks shattered. His skin is pulled tight over his cheekbones, his eyes bloodshot from staring at the monitors for hours. But underneath the exhaustion is a sharp, jagged resentment directed squarely at me.He puts as much distance between us as the architecture of the penthouse allows, his shoulders rigid, the air in the room vibrating with his silent, simmering rage.He drops his bag onto the floor with a heavy thud and doesn't look in my direction. He just turns and starts walking toward the guest bedroom.He hasn’t slept there in weeks and the message he’s sending is loud and clear. But I pretend to be deaf and blind.I catch his arm before he can take another step.He jerks away instantly, his muscles bunching with hostile energy. "Don't," he snaps, his voice hoarse and scraped raw. "Keep your hands to yourself, Kirill. I’m done playing whatever game this is. Fuck the hacker in private and scorn him in public

  • Cracking His Code   Chapter 48 – The Deep End

    OliverPeople think coding is about order. They think it’s about hiding in a safe, predictable little box where the rules of syntax protect you from the chaos of the real world.That’s bullshit.Writing a parser isn't a sanctuary. It’s a crowbar. It’s taking a chaotic, encrypted mess of a system and forcing it to bend to your will until it gives you exactly what you want. I don't hide in the code. I use it to break things open. For the last six years, I’ve made digital security my bitch, skimming offshore accounts, blackmailing corrupt politicians, and targeting billionaires who thought their firewalls made them untouchable.I treat the information from Scott’s servers exactly the same way.The raw data we dumped from the syndicate is an ugly, massive wall of corrupted text, hexadecimal strings, and broken database tables. There are no names or faces yet, just abstract information. It’s a puzzle, and I attack it with the same cynical detachment I use for every other hack.String

  • Cracking His Code   Chapter 47 – Static

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  • Cracking His Code   Chapter 46 – Denial

    OliverWaking up is a heavy, submerged sensation.Before my brain even registers the dim light filtering through the bedroom curtains, my body catalogs the damage from last night. There is a deep, persistent ache settled low in my hips, a dull throb in my lower back, and my skin feels overly sensitive wherever it brushes against the sheets.I’m pinned to the mattress. Kir has one massive arm slung heavy over my waist, pulling my back flush against his broad chest. One of his thick thighs is tangled with my legs, anchoring me in place. The steady, rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing vibrates against my spine.I don't move. I just lie there, letting the heavy, suffocating warmth sink into my bones.The horror of the syndicate ledger is still there, lurking right at the edge of my consciousness like a toxic spill, but the sheer physical reality of the man wrapped around me keeps the panic at bay. This is the drug. This is the terrifying, addictive high that makes the rest of the

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