*            Prelude            *

Angel slipped silently into the dark room, descending from the ceiling like a spider.  It had taken him nearly a month to find a weakness in the building’s security, but it would all be worth it.  Two golden eyes glittering in the darkness caught his attention, and the man smiled.  Gently, he plucked the small statue from its pedestal and examined it.  Angel turned the figure of the woman in his hands, searching for signs of authenticity.  It weighed heavily in his grip as it ought to. It was made almost entirely of solid gold.  A shame the sculptor couldn’t find a better subject for the priceless work of art.  The figure was modeled after a well-known opera singer whose proportions were as legendary as her voice.  A seal on the bottom of one foot drew his attention.  It appeared to be the genuine stamp of the maker.

“Lady, you’re pretty ugly, but you look spectacular to me!” the man quipped, slipping the statue into a small satchel at his hip.  With great stealth, he made his way back to the rope dangling in the midst of the room.  In the darkness, the slender length was barely visible, but Angel found it with ease.  He got a firm hold on the line and was about to make his ascent when he suddenly stopped.  The skin on the back of his neck prickled, and he glanced over his shoulder.  Nothing—only darkness.  Turning, he shimmied up the cord as quickly and elegantly as a feline up a tree.

Once the man emerged back out into the open air, he grinned, a rush of adrenaline spiking through his system.  He’d done it!  If he could get even half of what he estimated the statue was worth, he’d be out of the country by the weekend.  The dark-haired man breathed in the cool night air as he made his way over the rooftops, feeling rather invincible. 

Later, he would look back and wonder at his foolishness.  How could he have known that, even as he felt a new freedom lifting him off his feet, his wings were about to be clipped forever?

 

                                                *            Chapter 1            *

 

Slipping into his apartment from the balcony outside, Angel pulled the ski mask off his face and shook out his hair.  He gave a deep, satisfied sigh.  It had been a long time since he’d felt this good.  The man stripped, tossing his clothing carelessly onto the floor as he made his way to the shower.  His blood always ran higher after he’d pulled a job.  The lean man had gotten into the habit of taking a shower to calm himself—and to relieve the erection he almost always developed as a result of a successful heist.  As he walked through his bedroom, he quickly stashed his newest acquisition in a safe that was hidden in the wall within his closet.  

How long had he been living like this? he wondered.  Two years?  Three years?  Had it really been that long?  Angel knew he was good at what he did, but the most dangerous fault a thief could ever develop was to start thinking he was unbeatable.  That’s when you get careless, he reminded himself.

The cool water rushed over his body as he stepped into the shower, and Angel let his hand fall between his legs to pump himself.  Every time he pulled off another job, the euphoria became greater.  It soared through his body like a drug.  In short order, the man was moaning as his seed spilled from his body and drained away with the water. 

It was about time he got out of this business, Angel reflected.  Before he became even more addicted to the rush.  The golden lady would bring him enough money to move overseas and start a new life.  He could do whatever he wanted then.

Angel leaned his forehead against the shower wall with a sigh.  But what did he want to do? That was his real problem: his indecision.  The young man had only begun pulling jobs as a temporary means to clear his debts, but somehow he’d just kept going.  Even the pay-off for small jobs was more than he’d make in an entire month doing any job on the level.  Not that anyone would hire him anyway. 

Again and again the brunette had told himself that all he needed to do was get out of the country, then everything would work out.  It was true that he’d have trouble finding legitimate work unless he could somehow wipe the slate clean, but the larger issue was the fact he had no idea how to live a normal life. He could just resign himself to his current situation, but Angel hated the thought of being a two-bit thief for the rest of his life.  The young man gritted his teeth in anger at himself and ran his fingers through his wet hair. 

One thing at a time.  Fence the golden lady and get out, that’s number one.  After that… Well, that he would deal with another day.

Stepping from the shower, he reached for a towel, but found it missing.  Odd, Angel thought.  The young man could have sworn he’d grabbed one on the way into the room.  The same uneasiness he’d felt earlier that evening settled over him.  He didn’t like it.  It felt like a sixth sense was warning him of some impending danger. 

Had he forgotten something?  Had he not covered his tracks properly?  What was nagging at him?  No matter how many times he reviewed the evening, he couldn’t think of anything he’d done wrong, yet his unease wouldn’t leave him. 

Angel shook his head.  Definitely time to get out if I’m starting to get paranoid.

Pushing the worries from his mind, he left the bathroom in search of a towel.  The man hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights in the rest of the apartment, and the glow from the bathroom backlit his naked body as he stepped into the adjacent bedroom.

“My, my, what a sight,” came a cool voice from behind the dark-haired man.

Angel spun around.  Panic hit his chest like a train as he saw a tall, pale man standing at the wall behind the door.  The stranger gave him a malicious smirk, a towel held out on one hooked finger.  “Looking for this?”

Immediately, Angel began building his defenses again.  He forced his alarm down and straightened his back.  Whoever this man was, he was dangerous and the young man knew better than to show any glimmer of weakness before such a man.  Angel folded his arms over his chest and ignored the proffered towel.  “Who the fuck are you?” he asked, locking his eyes with the blonde man challengingly.

The mysterious blonde smiled, looking extremely pleased with Angel’s display of confidence.  He let the towel drop to the floor and sauntered past the thief to seat himself in a chair on the opposite side of the room. 

With irritating calm, the stranger folded his hands before him and eyed the other man’s naked body, considering his answer.

The blonde was sitting within the light from the other room and Angel could now see his face clearly.  He was undeniably attractive, with a strong chin and chiseled cheekbones.  Still, Angel could have ignored these features if it were not for the piercing green eyes that evaluated him with such unveiled intensity.  Angel had the uncomfortable feeling that the stranger could see past his skin and skull, into his very thoughts.  The blonde exuded power and authority and, to his mortification, Angel realized his body was responding to him.  Determined not to allow this man to get the better of him, Angel remained standing, proudly displaying his quickening arousal as if it bothered him not at all.

“I asked, who the fuck are you?”

The stranger’s jade eyes danced, as if Angel’s bravado was amusing.

“You could say I’m a benefactor of yours.”

“Benefactor?” Angel asked. 

The other man nodded.  “An unwitting benefactor.”  The blonde paused, making Angel wait until he knew the dark brunette was squirming inside.  “You see, you relieved me of a rather expensive piece of art earlier tonight.”

Before he could control his reaction, Angel’s eyes widened, startled.  How in the hell had this man been able to track him down so quickly?  Where had he gone wrong?  No, concentrate, he thought.  It doesn’t matter, the damage is done.  Deal with it.

“I have to say,” Angel replied, regaining his composure, “your taste in art sucks.”

The blonde man chuckled.  “It was a gift.  And in any case, you found the woman irresistible enough, didn’t you?”

“Only her price tag,” Angel replied.  “Why don’t you stop beating around the bush and get to it?  What do you want?  If you knew I took your little piece of junk, why not just call the police?”

“There’s no need to involve them, if we can come to our own arrangement.”

“I don’t make deals.”

The stranger gave a wide grin, chuckling behind his teeth.  “Not even to keep that sweet ass of yours out of jail?”

Angel scowled.  This man was determined to throw him off his game with his sly taunts.  The brunette had to be very careful how he played his hand.  “You’re going to offer me a better alternative?”

“Most certainly.”

“Why?”

“You circumnavigated my security systems with embarrassing ease.  No one’s ever been able to actually get into one of my buildings.  The only reason you were discovered is that I happen to fit my most expensive pieces with a microchip that tracks their location.  It’s useful for tracking if they’re shipped for museum exhibitions, but also works as a lovely security measure.”

Angel cursed under his breath.  So that was it.  Who the hell went through that kind of trouble?  Just who was this man?

“I could use a man with your skills.”

The thief looked at the other man skeptically. There was more to this offer than the stranger was telling him. Everything about the blonde man spoke of power and privilege. Why would such a man want a nobody like Angel to work for him?

“So you’ll let me have the statue if I do some kind of job for you?” Angel asked cautiously. 

Laughter filled the room.  If he hadn’t been so irritated, the dark-haired man would have found the stranger’s laughter rather musical.  As it was, he gave the blonde a sour expression.

“You must be more inexperienced than I thought.  No, my offer is this: you come with me, do the jobs I tell you, and get to keep your freedom—at least part of it.  Or,” the man paused, his face suddenly serious, “I hand you over to the police. With your previous conviction and the fact you’re no longer a juvenile, I have a feeling your sentence would be rather long.”

Horrified, Angel’s defenses momentarily collapsed.  “How… how could you know…?”

“My sources are fast and thorough.  It’s too bad for you that you didn’t do your own research as carefully.  You’ve put yourself in quite a bind.”

The brunette tried desperately to collect himself, but he suddenly felt as if he’d fallen into deep water and was flailing helplessly.

“Well?” the man pressed. “What is your answer?”

Angel knew he was in over his head, and there was nothing he could do about it. “Tell me your name first,” he said. 

“Mizuguchi.  Kouda Mizuguchi.”

With a sharp inhalation of breath, Angel realized he had robbed from the President of Mizuguchi Enterprises, a huge corporation with vague and unsavory ties to the underworld.  But how was it that the man owned that building?  Angel didn’t know the company had any branches outside Japan and the owner of the building was supposed to be a private art collector, a man who had no ties to Mizuguchi at all—at least that Angel had known of.

Shit.  He’d really fucked this one up.

“So,” Kouda said, bringing back the other man’s attention, “what is your choice?”

“I’ll go with you,” Angel replied.  Although he had given in, his eyes remained stern and defiant, letting the blonde man know that his spirit was still his own—no matter what Kouda did with him from that point on.

“Good.  Get dressed and grab the statue from your safe.  There is a car waiting for us downstairs.”

Finding that he was shivering from standing wet and naked, Angel finally grabbed the towel from the floor and wrapped it around himself.

“And Angel,” the blonde man said, standing to make his way over to the young man, “remember, you belong to me now.”  One of Kouda’s strong hands reached down to cup the brunette’s buttocks through the thin towel.  “From now on, you’ll address me as ‘Master’.”

Narrowing his dark eyes at the tall man, Angel refused to be cowed.  He snorted, “You’ve got to be kidding me.  There’s no wa—“

The young man’s words were cut off as he found himself shoved hard up against the wall, his arm twisted painfully behind him.  His towel fell off in the process and, to his mortification, he felt Kouda’s hands drift over his bare ass. 

“Now, what were you about to say?”

 “Bastard,” Angel spat, struggling.  His arm was twisted even further and the brunette cried out in pain. 

“Say it,” the blonde whispered.  His hand was now between the other man’s cheeks, brushing his portal suggestively. 

Angel tensed.  Fuck. 

“Beg for me,” Kouda breathed, his voice laced with lust and dark desire.  One finger abruptly invaded Angel’s sanctum.  The young man shut his eyes against his humiliation and helplessness, but he remained silent.

If he had been able to see Kouda’s face, he would’ve shuddered at the wicked grin of satisfaction spreading across the man’s features. 

A second finger forced its way inside Angel’s body, and then a third.  The young brunette felt his reluctant muscles fight against the invasion, and his tension only increased the pain. He would tear at any moment.  The repercussions of remaining stubborn finally outweighed his pride.

“Please, stop!” he cried.

“Who are you addressing?” Kouda asked viciously, pushing his digits deeper into the young man’s tight channel.

“Please, Master!”

The blonde man released him and Angel fell to the floor, his limbs trembling.  This had to be some kind of bad dream.  Surely, he’d wake up in the morning to find that all this had been a terrible nightmare?

Kouda knelt down next to him.  “Come now, where’s that defiance I saw earlier?  Don’t tell me you can be broken so easily?”

Angel glared at him and stood.

“I’ll be waiting downstairs.  One of my men is already on the roof, so don’t bother trying to slip away.”  Kouda grinned.  “Welcome to my service.  I hope you’ll be a good little slave.”