All Chapters of Gold & Sand: Chapter 331 - Chapter 340

Clark moved through the courthouse like a force of nature dressed in wool and restraint.His heels struck tile. His coat trailed behind him, catching wind from every swing of a door. He didn’t stop for greetings. Didn’t slow for the nervous junior solicitors shuffling papers by the elevators. His briefcase was gripped like a weapon—because today, it was.He reached the clerk’s window outside Judge Rensley’s chambers and rapped twice, sharp and clean.The woman behind the glass looked up. She was maybe in her forties, with tortoiseshell glasses and a lanyard full of pens. Professional. Efficient.Clark slipped the folder through the slot. “Petition for conditional extraction. Marked for priority review.”She took it automatically, flipping it open as her screen lit. “Case number?”“Cassidy Hills. Detainee under Institutional Isolation Protocol.” Clark’s voice was calm, clipped. “Filed under grounds of unlawful obstruction of counsel, denial of medical rights, and potential harm to the

The blinds were drawn. The air was thick. The only light came from the desk lamp—low and amber, casting long shadows.Michaelis was spread across the office couch, shirt open, skin flushed, breath ragged.Silas didn’t stop moving.Didn’t slow.Didn’t soften.His sleeves were rolled to the elbows, collar undone, voice a low rasp against Michaelis’s ear.“You take it like this every time,” he muttered. “You cry like you hate it—then beg like you were made for it.”Michaelis choked on a moan.“Ah—”Silas grinned against his shoulder. “That’s it. Say it again.”The couch creaked beneath them, steady and rhythmic.Michaelis gripped the cushion—“Ah—hhnn—!”“Louder.”“Ah—Silas—”Silas chuckled, low and sharp.“Now you remember my name.”The slap of impact.The scrape of breath.Michaelis’s voice, shredded at the edges—“Nh—ngh—ahh—please—”“You sound better when you’re desperate,” Silas said, almost tender

Matthew stepped into the office, the door clicking softly behind him.Arthur’s chair was empty.Across the room, Masahiro stood beside Diana near the tall bookshelf, both hunched slightly over an open file. The noon sun cast stripes of light over the hardwood floor, catching in Diana’s earrings and the red edge of Masahiro’s tie.Matthew didn’t say anything.He placed the warm lunch container on his desk—still sealed, still steaming—then walked quietly over to Masahiro’s desk and set a second container down. Not dramatic. Not even really visible unless you were watching for it.Diana was.Her eyes flicked from the container to Matthew’s back as he turned to retrieve two paper cups from a cardboard tray—coffee. One for him. One for Masahiro. No labels. He just knew which was which.Routine.He placed Masahiro’s coffee beside the food. Stir stick already removed.Then Masahiro’s phone buzzed on the desk.Matthew glanced at it, then looked up.

The bed creaked with each movement. Matthew's fingers dug into Masahiro’s back, breath sharp, body arched beneath him. The room pulsed with heat, rhythm, and muffled moans.A phone buzzed. Once. Twice.Masahiro didn’t stop.Matthew laughed breathlessly. “That better not be work.”Masahiro grunted. “Not my problem right now.”Matthew exhaled, sweat-slick and flushed. “Might be someone dying.”Masahiro muttered something sharp in Japanese, reached blindly for the phone, and froze when he saw the name.Callum Doyle.His rhythm faltered. Jaw tightened.Matthew noticed. “Who?”Masahiro hesitated, then answered. “Callum Doyle.”That made him stop. Completely.He exhaled slowly, then tapped to accept. His voice dropped into that professional calm that sounded too collected for someone currently half-naked and pressed against another man.“Doyle.”There was static. Then a soft, uncertain voice. “Sorry. I didn’t think you’d pick up.”Masahiro leaned down again, brushing his lips over Matthew’s

Masahiro waited until the office was empty.The envelope sat on the corner of his desk, cream-colored and official. No markings beyond the departmental stamp and the wax-sealed edge—typical of inter-agency transfers.He broke the seal clean.Inside: a folded letter on thick stock, stamped and signed in triplicate.He read it once, then again.To: Chief Inspector Masahiro PayneMiddlesbrough Metropolitan Police – Narcotics DivisionFrom: Office of Special OperationsNorth Yorkshire Regional Intelligence CommandSubject: Interagency Collaboration Request – Officer Matthew SmithDear Chief Inspector Payne,Following recent developments concerning regional crime syndicate activity and due to Officer Matthew Smith’s extensive prior infiltration experience (876-Z/BELLTOWER), this letter serves as an official request to assign Officer Smith to a joint undercover operation coordinated by the North Yorkshire RIC.The operation, designated OPERATION COALVEIN, requires immediate placement of an