Chapter 1: The Prince of Thieves

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PROLOGUE

TEM

There is something to be said about what loneliness and desperation can do to a man. How quickly we are all willing to sell our souls for a morsel of affection just to delude ourselves that the doom that hovers throughout our lives is only a figment of our imagination. This was why the affair began.

When I met Time, something was missing in my life, and I couldn't quite adapt. Loneliness permeated my days. I felt as obscure as a grain of sand clinging to the ocean's lonely shore. My friends had started new chapters in their lives; Porsche was in a new relationship and Jom was immersed in a new job that lit a fire in his belly. Their life moved and I felt stuck, but I didn't know how to ask for help without dragging them into the murk that held me in place. If the misery dragged me to some strange land, would anyone have noticed that I ceased to exist in their world?

I first saw him at a crowded café, bustling, boisterous, filled with jocular talk and the ardent gossip of young men and women. He was in the corner, against the brick wall, scrolling through his phone and sipping his green juice. He wore black trousers and a pink shirt that gave his skin a misty glow. His presence enhanced, the room fell away, and the chatter quietened into a cushioning white noise. Time had the kind of magnetism they talked about in the movies. He seized me with his mascara-lined dark eyes, some cryptic intent lurking behind his smile. I was beguiled by that effusive smile and for days it echoed around my head like a bass at a concert.

I found myself going back to the café, desperate to have those eyes glance at me again and that mouth to smile for me. How long had it been since someone saw me? I needed that rush that came from the desire I assumed danced in his eyes when he first looked at me. I was frantic about it.  Weeks passed and nothing, he never came back.

It was not until the night Porsche dragged me to join him for a night out, weeks later, that I saw him again. What a small world. I would not have guessed that he was as close to me as it turned out to be. His partner, an ethereal beauty, clung to his side dazzling in his colorful clothes and beady eyes. I was jealous of the way his hand rested on the small of his back. The curve of his hip pressed against his side. That night, on the dancefloor, his partner sandwiched between us, he reached over and squeezed my shoulder. A bolt of electricity jolted through my body, and I knew I had to have him no matter what it took.

We ran into each a week later in the crowded café when he bumped into me just as I was about to leave. It happened again and again, enough for me to accept that it was not a coincidence. Our conversation grew from 'sorry' to 'excuse me' to 'how are you' to listening keenly as Time spoke of his life – all its glitz and glamour.

In my mind, seeing him was a simple way to elevate my sadness and worries. A companionship. He would come around to say hello. We talked, he smiled, and I felt warm. His friendliness just shined so bright. Someone to talk to, a kindred soul. When I was with him, I felt whole.

There was a sort of tension between us. It scared me how much I loved the thought that I could be his. Bereft of any shame, I yearned with a bowl for crumbs of his affection, for a taste of his lips, and more. Then one day our conversation moved from superficial chatter to the mention of his relationship, and the inevitable spread of their growing incompatibility. Time said that time with Tae had started feeling like he was slowly being submerged under water and he was up to his nostrils in the unfulfilling, praying for one of them to let go.

I cannot remember the first time we crossed the line, or how it happened. All it took was a look and I opened myself up to him. When he bit my lip, I couldn't bite back my moans. His hand around my throat made me melt against him.

"Good boy," he purred.

I switched. How could I not?

I couldn't call it love because it was not. We were both lonely and that pull brought us close. For months, I wanted to leave him and get over it. I was desperate to find other ways to fill my void, yet he lurked like a demon, always coming when I least expected it. And I liked that feeling of being needed and owned by someone. It gave me an unexplainable high that I never wanted to lose. I was in heaven for three months and nothing would have ruined it for me.

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