Chapter 3

The following evening

As Syed approaches the expensive-looking block of flats, he has a bad feeling. Standing indecisively for a few minutes outside the main entrance, he wonders, even at this late stage, if there could possibly be any other way out; but of course there isn't; so he takes a big, shaky breath, and forces himself to press the buzzer for the top floor apartment. After a short wait, he is buzzed in without any acknowledgement.

When he steps out of the lift, Danny is standing at the front door, waiting. "Welcome to my humble abode," he greets, smug smile firmly in place.

Without responding, Syed walks past him into a large, bright, open-plan apartment; which he notes has a slightly similar colour scheme to the place where he stayed when he first arrived in London; although this apartment has a much more luxurious feel to it, and includes stunning views of the City from whichever window you care to look through.

"Would you like something to drink?" Danny offers.

"No thanks."

"Sit, relax; there's no need to look so scared, I don't bite," he assures with a mocking smile.

"I've only got £200,"Syed says sharply, his voice little too loud in his anxiety.

"So, I take it your family won't mind squeezing into that bedsit with you and Christian, then," Danny replies, unfazed.

"If you give me a couple of weeks, a month, you'll get the rest. I'll get a second job and give you every penny I earn, I promise."

"The thing is, I need the money now," Danny says, his tone regretful.

"No you don't, because this obviously isn't about the money," Syed impatiently denies, gesturing to all the expensive furniture around him. "So you must be doing it to get some kind of revenge for some perceived wrong you feel I've done you; which is unfair, because it was you who ruined my life. If this is about the fight you had with Christian, or about that time I punched you ... I can't think what other reason you would have for coming after me like this."

"Oh, I think you can," Danny murmurs.

"Please let it go," Syed says softly, his eyes looking away, his cheeks flushed.

"Do you have any idea how long it would take me to destroy your family? In fact, I can show you; a quick phone call will set the wheels in motion." Danny picks up his phone, and appears to be searching for a number.

"I can't just magically conjure up £300, and I won't do anything illegal," Syed cries desperately.

"Technically, buying dodgy cleaning products was illegal."

"What about what you're doing? My parents have an agreement with the bank."

"You think I can't find a loophole?"

"Are you really so desperate to hurt me, just because I rejected what you were offering?"

"If we're being honest; rather than rejecting me, wasn't it really more about you being guilted into staying with someone you'd out grown; and, of course, being too cowardly to take a chance.

Hi, Tom, it's Danny. I need to have a word with you about the Masood Account," Danny speaks to the person on the other end of the phone.

"Danny, please; I really can't cope with this right now; my life's such a mess. Just ... please," Syed implores, his hand moving distractedly through his hair.

"Actually, can I call you back, something's come up? Okay, bye." Danny ends the call, and looks expectantly towards his prey.

"Things haven't been ... easy recently ... you've got to give me more time," Syed searches for the words; tries to think of something, anything to say that will gain him some breathing space; his voice is strained with the effort to control his rising panic.

"That's all very unfortunate, but it doesn't change anything," Danny responds, his tone light and unbothered; masking his inner rage. He senses he now finally has him; and in the moment hates him more than he's ever hated anyone; this man who has tormented his thoughts for the past six months.

"You thought you could play games with me," he murmurs, speaking almost to himself. "You so picked the wrong guy."

"Why did you really bring me here? What do you want from me?" Syed asks nervously, suddenly afraid of the look in his eyes. "What can I do to get you out of my life forever?"

"Well, I suppose you could work off the money."

"Of course, I'll do anything," he too-eagerly pounces on the glimmer of hope being offered.

"I need someone to help me with some research work and other bits and pieces."

"I can do that."

"It would mainly involve gathering information, getting signatures on documents; delivering papers to the Old Bailey, the High Court or the Tax Office, the odd time; that kind of thing."

"Okay, sure," Syed agrees.

"You'd have to leave Christian, of course."

"What?"

"Maybe a bit of cooking."

"Why would I have to leave Christian?" Syed asks shakily.

"Well, you can't very well live here and still be in a relationship with him, can you?"

"Live here?"

"Yea, sex usually works better if the two people are in the same place; not always, but usually," Danny casually drops the final piece of the puzzle on him.

"What are you talking about?"

"What do you think I'm talking about?"

"I won't have sex with you just to pay off a trumped up debt," Syed angrily exclaims. "I love Christian, I could never betray …"

"You mean, you could never again betray him," Danny corrects. "And to be honest, I could give a sh*t about your feelings for Christian; all I want is that sexy body of yours. Once I get bored with you, you can go back to him."

"Go to hell," Syed shouts, enraged. "This is the only money you're going to get off me, so take it; and, from now on, stay out of my life," he warns, throwing the envelope of cash at Danny and marching past him towards the door.

"So, let me get this straight, you've destroyed two of your parents' businesses so far; and now you're prepared to not only destroy their new business, probably their last chance; but to leave them without a roof over their heads. It's your little brother I feel most sorry for; what age is he, three or four? And, of course, little Yasmin; it's a good job she's with her mum, because it's pretty obvious you'll never be able to support her …"

"Enough," Syed cries, suddenly swinging back towards him and throwing a punch.

"I don't think so, not this time," Danny growls, ducking to avoid the approaching fist; whilst at the same time moving quickly forward to grab Syed around the waist, and force him backwards until he trips and they both end up sprawled on a very soft and very luxurious rug.

"Get off me," Syed shouts, struggling against him; but Danny is stronger, and easily holds him down.

"I'll get the money, somehow, today," he recklessly promises, twisting his head away from Danny's searching mouth.

"Let me explain to you how it's going to work," Danny hisses close to his ear. He grips his jaw firmly, dragging his face back to him; and roughly forces the kiss, his tongue intrusive, demanding.

"Please Danny," Syed says shakily, when he eventually pulls back.

"Please what?" he huskily responds.

"I don't want this; I don't want you."

"But you do, you have from the beginning. Those beautiful eyes give you away every time: you tell me to go, you order me to leave you alone; even as they plead with me to stay, to devour you."

"I'm sorry if I mislead you into thinking it could be anything more than a one-night stand. If I've hurt you, I'm sorry ..."

"Don't flatter yourself," Danny angrily cuts him off. He grips a fist-full of his hair to hold him still, and his mouth quickly descends once more.

"No, please; please don't hurt me," Syed begs.

Danny hesitates, the words jolting him. He looks down at the fear in Syed's eyes, the glaze of tears.

"We can forget this ever happened, if you let me go now," he pleads.

"I could never hurt you," Danny gently reassures. Letting go of his hair, he moves to stroke his cheek; his thumb brushing away the few escaping tears. "I've never met anyone quite like you. I'd do ...," he trails off, unwilling to admit just how far he would be prepared to go for this man.

"If you let me leave …," Syed begins hopefully, sensing a moment of weakness.

"No, I don't think so," he says softly, with a smile that has Syed's butterflies abruptly awake and fluttering like mad.

"That night, it was just sex; it wasn't supposed to mean anything," he says rashly.

"Mean anything?" Danny asks, a hard edge underling the teasing tone. "Why would you say that?"

"No, nothing, I didn't mean …" Syed trails off, flustered. "You didn't want me to marry Christian; you kept coming back; you beat him up; why would you do all that if you didn't feel something, if you weren't … jealous, maybe?" he warily tries to explain his reasoning.

"I was bored; your situation intrigued me. It was a challenge to see what I could get you do, how far I could push you and that ridiculous husband of yours; the adult equivalent of pulling the wings of butterflies, you could say; but it was nothing more that," Danny lies, his tone casual, indifferent. "I got a mind-blowing f*ck and £6,000 for my efforts; not bad for a few hours' work, wouldn't you say?" he adds tauntingly.

"I wish I'd never met you," Syed hisses, deeply hurt by his words.

"Don't lie," Danny responds, grabbing Syed's hands and forcing them above his head, to stop his attempts to push him off of him. "I brought a bit of excitement to your dull, miserable existence."

"You're so hateful …"

"I knew you'd be good; sometimes you can tell with a guy ...," Danny moves on to pondering. "The way you shyly responded to my less than subtle flirting technique, the twinkle of promise in your eyes ... I knew you wanted it as much as I did. But that night, it was so far beyond … you were so f*cking hot."

"Danny …"

"Your skin was so soft, your body so responsive," he breathes. "I remember what you wanted me to do to you …"

"Stop this," Syed gasps; but it's too late. He is now suddenly very aware of their situation: the hard, muscular body on top of him, pinning him to the floor, the tight coil of sexual tension building within him; his blood pumping faster, his heart beating faster, Danny's scent is now overpowering him; his body is sensitive to the slightest movement, the slightest touch ... Syed desperately tries to pull back, to re-focus his thoughts; but Christian suddenly seems a long way off, a vague image he cannot hold onto; and he finds himself unable to look away from the piercing stare of this dangerous man.

"I remember how it felt to have you clinging to me, digging your fingernails into my back as you came, your body shaking, convulsing with the force of your orgasm." As he says the words, Danny deliberately leans into him, and Syed can't hold back his harsh intake of breath. Danny's head dips and he captures his mouth before he has time to recover.

This time, the kiss is softer, gently persuasive; it builds slowly, with Danny increasing the pressure only when he feels Syed is ready.

As his mouth slides to his throat, Syed instinctively arches his neck in submission; and as Danny's body moves against him, his own trembles in response. He is barely aware of his jacket being removed, his shirt buttons being undone. During the past four months Syed's imagined this so many times, he has ached for this man he barely knows; he has a fleeting feeling of shame at what he's allowing to happen, and then Danny does something which pushes all rational thought out of his head.

Sometime later

"What happens now?" Syed asks, his head bowed, his voice subdued.

"You go back to hubby, and you tell him you're moving out; you pack your stuff and you bring it back here," Danny coldly informs him. He presses a hard, possessive kiss on his mouth, and then gets up to go have a shower. Syed remains lying on the floor where he left him for a few more minutes, unable to believe what's happening. Finally, pulling himself together, he gets up, pulls on his clothes and leaves."