‎           GAY BECAUSE OF YOU

...‎Disclaimer...

‎THIS BOOK IS FICTIONAL, EACH CHARACTER IS FICTIONAL, AND ANY PLACE, PRODUCT OR COMPANY DOES NOT HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH REAL LIFE EVENTS. BUT NATIONALITIES ARE REAL.

‎

...‎Copyright@ZORRY SUNBLAZE 2026...

‎Do you believe in rebirth and Karma?

Karma is a bitch that bites back when you least expect. Be wicked on a low-key, and make sure you avoid Karma’s revenge. In-between every chaos, don’t forget to find love, and treat that person right.

‎Love doesn’t have to be between a man and a woman, it could be between two people who understand, love and respect each-other. Love is fluid and applies to all genders.

‎

...‎THIS IS TO ANY READER WHO COMES ACROSS MY WORK...

‎

‎Thank you for deciding to read this wonderful piece of work, if this is your first time coming across my work, I have other works you can check out on my page, and you can check out my other works on Wattpad and Mangatoons. Under the same pen name Zorry Sunblaze.

‎I love you all, and I thank you again for your support. Nuu rak tuk khon maak…

‎

...‎PROLOGUE:...

... THE UNWANTED DAWN...

‎

‎I didn’t want a second chance. I didn’t want a “New Beginning” or a silver lining. I just wanted silence.

‎I wanted the heavy, suffocating darkness to finally swallow the memories of his hands, the scent of the chemicals that turned him into a monster, and the sound of the lock sliding into place every night.

I had paid my dues to a life that gave me nothing but bruises and stolen dignity.

As the world blurred and my heart slowed to a final, sluggish beat, my only prayer was for nothingness.

...‎Total. Absolute. Empty....

‎But karma is a cruel author, and she wasn’t finished with my story.

‎Instead of void, there was a roar of light. Instead of silence, there was a rush of power—a cold, terrifying strength flowing through veins that weren’t mine.

I woke up in a body that felt like a weapon, surrounded by wealth built on blood and a name that made grown men tremble.

‎I was no longer a girl in the shadows.

‎I was the nightmare in the light.

‎I sought him out not because I wanted to love him, but because I wanted to watch him shatter the way I had. I wanted to see those ice-cold eyes fill with the same darkness. I didn’t know that under his cruelty was a boy who had been shattered long before he ever touched me.

‎I came for revenge. I didn’t realize I was walking back into the arms of

‎

...‎GAY BECAUSE OF YOU...

...‎CHAPTER ONE...

...‎Is this Love or Obsession?...

...‎...

...‎🔞 Warning ⚠️...

...This chapter includes Mature themes like drugs, rape, death, and abuse. Please proceed with caution...

‎

‎When you love someone, you want them to be happy at any cost.

‎But when it's obsession, you keep them no matter what.

‎

‎“hey bitch. Bring a drink to my table” a tall lean man probably in his early 20s called as he sat in a comfortable couch placed lazily in the club. The pop music blasting in the atmosphere.

He had dark chocolate hair color, styled in short bangs. He has prominent nose, diamond shaped nos, and almond shaped eyes.

His gray pupils were cold as ice.

‎Minutes later, a tray containing a bottle of Liquid G, a syringe of Smack, and a bag of Special K.

‎

‎“Hey Pit” a guy with bleached white hair, a sharp lip piercing, and a spider tattoo crawling across his temple approached him with a glass containing Roofies.

‎

‎“Ahh palm having fun right?” Pit replied, his voice already sounding distant.

‎

‎Palm joined him on the plush couch, leaning in with a predatory grin.

“looks like tonight is gonna be a long night” he said, patting Pit’s shoulder before disappearing back into the sea of dancers.

‎

‎“Pim is alone at home, I need to go and keep her company” Pit muttered to himself, letting out a jagged, maniacal laugh that was swallowed by the bass of the music.

He picked up the syringe, expertly prepping the hit of Smack he’s been craving... As the needle pierced his skin and he pushed the plunger, his pupils dilated until they were nothing but vast, black voids—proof of the chemical fire starting to roar through his veins…

To chase the rush, he took two gulps of Liquid G, downing the entire glass in one go.

...‎ PIT’S HOUSE...

‎

‎The taxi ride was a blur of neon lights and nausea. By the time he reached the house, his legs were leaden. He staggered into the room, collapsing onto the bed as his mind began to drifted into a dangerous, drug-induced haze...

‎

‎Meanwhile, in the far corner of the darkened room, a delicate figure sat huddled on the floor.

‎Her appearance was disheveled, her small frame trembling as she hugged her knees tight against her chest. She was a ghost in her own home, terrified of the person who had just entered.

‎Her sobs were low and muffled— a desperate, quiet sound as if she were scared of even the air hearing her.

‎

‎As if the world wasn’t cruel enough, Pit’s glazed eyes finally found her. He stared at her for a long moment, the drugs making his gaze heavy and unreadable.

‎“Pim... come over here,” he slurred, motioning clumsily with a trembling hand.

‎Terror flared in her chest, and she instinctively scrambled backward, her heels digging into the floor. The sight of her fear didn’t stop him—it annoyed him.

‎His jaw tightened, and he advanced toward her with a predatory stumble. Before she could scream, his hand shot out, catching her by the neck.

The air left her lungs in a sharp gasp. She thrashed and pleaded, her small hands clawing at his iron grip, but it was all in vain. The chemicals in his system had turned him into a monster she didn't recognize.

‎“I’m hurt, P’Pit... please,” she managed to wheeze out, tears spilling over.

‎For a split second, his expression shifted. A flicker of the boy he used to be surfaced—a flash of hesitation.

But the "Poison" in his blood was stronger. He released her neck, only to shove her violently onto the bed.

‎The mattress dipped under his weight. Pim tried to crawl toward the edge, but he was faster, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand. The smell of expensive liquor and "Smack" filled her senses, suffocating her.

‎"Don't run, Pim," he whispered, his voice a jagged edge. "Dad said... if you love someone, you never let them run."

‎He didn't hear her begging. He didn't see the way her soul seemed to leave her eyes as he began to tear at her clothes.

To him, she was a possession to be kept; to her, the world was ending.

Every touch felt like a violation of the very air she breathed. As the nightmare unfolded, Pim stared up at the ceiling, her body going limp as she retreated into the only place he couldn't reach—the dark, silent corners of her own mind.

‎She realized then that there was no "brother" left in this room. There was only a monster, and the girl he was breaking.

‎Hours of violation finally ended when Pit slumped over, his consciousness lost to the drugs and his own depravity. Pim didn’t wait. With trembling limbs and eyes swollen shut from hours of crying, she scrambled off the bed, her every movement a reminder of her shattered dignity.

‎She locked the bathroom door, the click of the bolt the only sound in the room.

‎"I'm dirty..." she whispered to the cracked mirror, her voice a ghost of itself. "I can never be clean. I don't have a life anymore... I just want to die."

‎Her gaze drifted to the marble counter, landing on a small, clinical bottle. It read Fentanyl. She had no idea what the word meant, but she had seen the way Pit handled it with a twisted kind of reverence. She knew it was lethal. She knew it was the end.

‎With hands that finally stopped shaking, she grabbed a discarded syringe. She filled it to the brim, the clear liquid shimmering like a cruel diamond.

Taking one last, shuddering breath, she pushed the needle into her skin.

‎At first, there was nothing but a strange, terrifying heat. Then, the world tilted. Her body began to convulse, a violent rejection of the life she no longer wanted.

White foam gathered at the corners of her mouth, but she didn't fight it. Instead, a small, haunting smile touched her lips.

‎She climbed into the bathtub, letting her body sink into the cold water. As the water rose above her face, she didn't struggle for air. She didn't open her eyes.

She simply let go, drifting into the absolute, silent darkness she had prayed for.

‎

...‎Next on GAY BECAUSE OF YOU......

...‎🎞️ Chapter 2: A New Life Begins...

‎💄 He walks like a God of Death, dressed in a red suit that screams money.

‎🎥 [The office doors swing open]

‎🖤 Ya: “Stop being so polite with this friend of yours... I’m just gonna pay them a visit.”

‎🚬 The atmosphere didn’t just change. It froze.

‎🎥 [Heels clicking against the marble floor]

‎😮 Tiw: “P’Ya! Please be careful with that thing around me!”

‎Ya: Click-clack. “Relax. There’s no bullet in it.”

‎🕸️ A predator enters the Yooniverse.

‎🎥 [The neon signs flickering over the black SUV]

‎Ya: “If they want to play with drugs and bullets in my house, I’ll show them what it feels like to truly overdose.”

‎😵 The nightmare meets the executioner.

‎🎥 [Pit slumped over a sticky table, eyes glazed]

‎Ya: “There he is.”

‎⛓️ No mercy. No witnesses.

‎🎥 [Shadows closing in on an unconscious Pit]

‎Ya: “Take him to the underground house. And Tiw? Don’t be gentle.”

‎

...‎💌 Author’s Note:...

‎The King has returned to his throne, and he brought a cold heart and a loaded gun with him. 😏

‎So tell me—

‎✨ That sharp undercut mullet?

‎🔥 The ice-blue eyes?

‎👀 Or the fact that Pit has NO idea what’s coming for him?

‎

‎Drop a comment:

‎

‎💬 Who is this mysterious "Ya" to you?

‎💋 Are we ready to see what happens in the Underground House?

‎🎀 And does anyone else think that red suit is a total vibe?

‎📚 Add to your library to see the reckoning.

‎📣 Share it if you’re ready for the debt to be paid.

‎

‎See you in Chapter 2, darlings 😘

‎#GayBecauseOfYou #MafiaRomance #TheReckoning

‎

...‎GAY BECAUSE OF YOU...

...‎Previously on GAY BECAUSE OF YOU......

...‎🥀 Is this love or obsession?....

...⚠️ Content Warning: Chapter 2...

...WARNING: This chapter contains depictions of suicide, domestic abuse, sexual assault (referenced), and drug use. It also features themes of kidnapping and captivity. Reader discretion is strongly advised...

‎[The sound of a lock sliding into place]

‎Pim’s world was a prison of bruises and stolen dignity. Trapped in a house with a brother who had become a stranger, she lived as a ghost in the shadows.

‎

‎[Pit stumbling through the front door, eyes dilated into black voids]

‎Fueled by a lethal cocktail of Liquid G and Smack, Pit returned home. The "boy" he used to be was gone, replaced by a predator who saw his own sister as a possession to be kept.

‎

‎[Pim staring at the ceiling, her eyes going empty]

‎"Don't run, Pim... Dad said if you love someone, you never let them run."

‎The nightmare ended in the dark, leaving Pim with a shattered soul and a choice to make.

‎

‎[A clinical bottle of Fentanyl shimmering like a diamond]

‎Pim didn't want a second chance. She just wanted the darkness to swallow the memories. With a final, haunting smile, she let the cold water of the bathtub claim her, drifting into a silent world where no one could ever touch her again.

‎But Karma has a different plan... and the story is far from over.

‎Chapter 2

‎ A New Life Begins

‎

‎Two months.

‎

‎It had been sixty days since the cold water of the bathtub had turned into the silk sheets of a king-sized bed. Sixty days since the name "Pim" had been buried in a shallow grave of memory, replaced by a name that commanded silence.

‎

‎"Boss, we have a problem."

‎The voice cut through the haze of the office. A tall, tanned man with his hair pulled into a short ponytail stepped into the light. A snake tattoo crawled up his neck, its head disappearing into the collar of his all-black tactical gear. He looked every bit the professional assassin, his sharp eyes scanning the corners of the room with a precision that only came from years of surviving the streets.

‎

‎The room was thick with the scent of expensive tobacco smoke, the atmosphere heavy and intimidating. Sitting on a velvet couch with his legs crossed was a figure that seemed to command the very air around him.

‎He was rocking a sharp undercut mullet, the sides shaved down to skin to highlight the silver piercings in his ears and eyebrows. The longer, dark hair on top was styled with a messy, expensive grit that flowed down his neck like a shadow. His ice-blue eyes were like shards of frozen glass, cutting through the smoke.

‎

‎ With a straight, pointed nose and full, heart-shaped lips that remained set in a cold, unyielding line, he looked like a god of death dressed in a red suit that screamed of blood and money.

‎Inside that body, Pim’s soul shivered. Every time she looked in the mirror, she expected to see a broken girl. Instead, she saw a predator.

‎

‎"Come in, Tiw... and stop being so polite with this friend of yours," He said, his voice a low, dangerous hum. It was a voice that didn't shake. A voice that didn't beg.

‎

‎"Aish, P’Ya. You know your bodyguards are so scary... I can't just behave however I want around here anymore," Tiw complained, finally relaxing his shoulders and sitting on the edge of the couch close to Ya.

‎

‎"Screw them. You’re my best friend," Ya continued. His long, elegant fingers played with a matte black handgun, spinning it with a familiarity that Pim’s mind hadn’t learned, but Ya’s fingers remembered perfectly. Suddenly, he cocked the hammer. Click-clack.

‎

‎"Ai Ya! Please be careful with that thing around me!" Tiw skillfully dodged, his head snapping back as the muzzle swung toward his chest.

‎

‎Ya let out a dry, dark chuckle. The sound was hollow, echoing against the marble walls. "Relax. There’s no bullet in it."

‎He tossed the gun onto the velvet cushion, the heavy metal thudding softly. He leaned forward, the ice-blue of his eyes piercing through the thick, grey smoke to find Tiw’s gaze.

‎

‎“What was it you wanted to tell me?”

‎

‎Tiw’s expression shifted, the playfulness vanishing.

‎

‎ “The Spider Gang refuse to stop selling drugs in our territory. They’re getting bold, P'Ya. They think because you were away for those few weeks, the throne is empty. Two of our people were shot last night—nearly bled out on the pavement. They’re stable for now, but only just.”

‎

‎Ya didn’t flinch. His heart-shaped lips remained a thin, frozen line. He didn’t care about "stability." He cared about the disrespect. In his old life, people took from him because they could. In this life, if someone took a drop of his blood, he would take their entire life.

‎

‎“And that guy you asked me to look for,” Tiw continued, his voice dropping to a cautious whisper.

‎“He still visits the Yooniverse club. Every single night. Chasing the high like a stray dog. He’s a mess, P’Ya.”

‎

‎Tiw paused, looking at his boss with a mix of confusion and concern. “Also... that’s where you were attacked two months ago."

‎

‎A dark, jagged chuckle vibrated in Ya’s chest—a sound that didn't belong to the girl in the shadows, but to the monster she had become. The Yooniverse.

‎It was a sick joke played by fate. The place where Ya’s blood had painted the floor was the same place where Pit—the man who had violated Pim’s soul—still went to play. The "Poison" and the "Spiders" were all gathering in the same web, waiting for a predator they didn't know was coming.

‎

‎“Pit,” Ya whispered. The name felt like a shard of glass in his throat, tasting like the clear liquid fentanyl she had injected into her veins in that cold, lonely bathtub.

‎

‎The memories of his two lives blurred. He could feel the phantom pain of Pim’s bruises and the sharp, burning heat of the bullets that had put Ya in a coma. Both lives had been ruined by men who thought they could control the world.

‎

‎He stood up, the crimson-red of his suit looking like fresh, oxygenated blood in the dim light of the office. He adjusted the collar of his shirt, his long fingers trailing over the silver hoop piercing in his brow. He didn't look like a victim anymore. He didn't feel like a girl who wanted to die.

‎He felt like an executioner.

‎

‎"I think it's time to pay them a visit" Ya muttered, looking at his reflection in the dark window.

‎

‎Tiw stood up, sensing the shift in the air. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. "What's the plan, P'Ya? We hit the Spiders first?"

‎Ya turned, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his face. "Why the rush?. I'm just gonna pay them a visit"

‎He grabbed a heavy overcoat from the rack, the leather creaking.

‎“Get the car, Tiw,” Ya commanded, his voice a lethal shadow that filled every corner of the room. “If they want to play with drugs and bullets in my house, I’ll show them what it feels like to truly overdose.”

‎Tiw nodded, his face turning serious. He knew that tone. It was the tone of a man who was no longer playing by the rules of the living.

‎As Ya walked out of the office, his heels clicking sharply against the marble floor, he didn't look back. The girl who wanted silence was gone. The man who wanted noise—the sound of screams and breaking bones—was finally awake.

‎Yooniverse

‎The black SUV pulled up to the front of the YOONIVERSE. The massive building loomed over them, the neon sign bleeding pink and purple light onto the wet pavement.

‎Ya stepped out, the heels of his boots clicking against the ground with lethal rhythm. He didn't wait. He didn't look around. He walked into the club like he owned the soul of every person inside—and he did. The music was a thumping, aggressive bass that vibrated in the floorboards. As soon as his red suit caught the light, the atmosphere shifted. The laughter died down. The heavy-set guards at the door snapped their heads down, their spines stiff as they cleared the way.

‎Tiw walked a half-step behind him, his eyes moving like a hawk, hand resting near the holster under his jacket.

‎Ya stopped at the edge of the VIP balcony, looking down into the pit of the club. The air was thick with the scent of expensive sweat, spilled gin, and the metallic tang of something darker.

‎"There he is."

‎A dangerous, sharp smile appeared on Ya's lips. Below them, slumped over a sticky table in the corner, was Pit. He looked pathetic—a ghost of the man who had once been a nightmare. His head was lolling back, eyes glazed over as he chased a high that would never be enough.

‎Ya didn't even look at Tiw when he spoke. His voice was a cold blade.

‎"Take him to the underground house. And Tiw?"

‎"Yes, Boss?"

‎"Don't be gentle."

‎It was over in seconds. Two shadows in black gear descended on Pit. He didn't even have the strength to struggle as they hauled him up, his feet dragging across the floor as he was swallowed by the darkness of the back exit.

‎

‎🎞️ Next On: Gay Because of You

‎Coming Up in Chapter 3: When You’re Hurt

‎🎥 [Ya sitting behind his desk, hand trembling as he holds a pen]

‎💄 Ya: "I don't want to pamper him... I want him conscious so he can feel the weight of every bruise."

‎🎥 [Shadows stretching across the cold

concrete of the basement]

‎⛓️ Pit: "Please... I'll be a good boy... please, Dad, I'm sorry!"

‎🎥 [The sound of a shirt sleeve ripping in the dark]

‎🖤 Ya: "What is it, P'Pit? Did you see the reaper?"

‎🎥 [Ya dropping a piece of fabric like a dead leaf]

‎🚬 Ya: "How does it feel to go through what you did to others?"

‎🌑 The executioner has arrived. The nightmare is only beginning.

‎💬 Fan Corner: Join the Conversation!

‎Before you jump into the next chapter, I want to hear your thoughts! Ya is officially taking Pit to the "Underground House," and things are about to get dark.

‎

‎The Suit: We’ve seen Ya in the Red Suit now. On a scale of 1-10, how much "God of Death" energy is he giving off?

‎

‎Prediction Time: What do you think Ya's first "move" will be once he enters that basement?

‎Drop your theories below, Yoonauts 👇

‎

...‎Gay because of you...

...‎Previously on...

...‎Gay because of you...

‎

...⚠️ CONTENT ADVISORY...

...Please Read: This chapter contains intense scenes of physical torment, captivity, drug withdrawal symptoms, and flashbacks to domestic abuse. It explores the dark cycle of revenge. Reader discretion is strongly advised....

...‎🎞️ Chapter 2: A New Life Begins...

‎

‎💄 He walks like a God of Death, dressed in a red suit that screams money.

‎

‎🎥 [The office doors swing open]

‎🖤 Ya: “Stop being so polite with this friend of yours... I’m just gonna pay them a visit.”

‎🚬 The atmosphere didn’t just change. It froze.

‎🎥 [Heels clicking against the marble floor]

‎😮 Tiw: “P’Ya! Please be careful with that thing around me!”

‎Ya: Click-clack. “Relax. There’s no bullet in it.”

‎🕸️ A predator enters the Yooniverse.

‎🎥 [The neon signs flickering over the black SUV]

‎Ya: “If they want to play with drugs and bullets in my house, I’ll show them what it feels like to truly overdose.”

‎😵 The nightmare meets the executioner.

‎🎥 [Pit slumped over a sticky table, eyes glazed]

‎Ya: “There he is.”

‎⛓️ No mercy. No witnesses.

‎🎥 [Shadows closing in on an unconscious Pit]

‎Ya: “Take him to the underground house. And Tiw? Don’t be gentle.”

...‎Chapter 3...

...‎When you're hurt...

‎

‎

‎The silence in the office was heavy, broken only by the rhythmic scratching of a fountain pen against thick, expensive paper. Ya sat behind the mahogany desk, the sleeves of his red suit jacket pushed back to reveal elegant, pale wrists. To any outsider, he looked like a young king managing an empire.

‎Inside, however, the air felt thin.

‎"Tiw, get something for him to eat," Ya ordered. He didn't look up. He couldn't. If he looked up, Tiw might see the slight tremor in his fingers.

‎Tiw, who had been leaning against the doorframe picking at a stray thread on his tactical vest, paused. He tilted his head, his ponytail swaying. "I don't understand, P'Ya... First, you said we shouldn't be gentle. Now you're trying to pamper him?" He let out a huff of a laugh, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Getting soft on the junkie already?"

‎The scratching of the pen stopped abruptly.

‎Ya finally lifted his head. The ice-blue eyes weren't just cold; they were predatory. He leaned back into the leather chair, the light from the desk lamp catching the silver hoop in his brow.

‎"Do you want me to help shut you up?" Ya threatened. His voice was a low, dangerous hum—the kind that made the guards outside the door stiffen. It wasn't a joke, even if the faint smirk on his heart-shaped lips suggested otherwise.

‎Tiw’s playful expression vanished instantly. He knew better than to push the Boss when that specific tone entered his voice. He mimed zipping his mouth shut, gave a quick, respectful nod, and retreated out of the office.

‎As soon as the door clicked shut, Ya dropped the pen.

‎He let out a breath he felt like he’d been holding for sixty days. He stood up and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the sprawling lights of the city. Down there, in the basement of this very building, was the man who had turned Pim’s life into a living grave.

‎Ya didn't want to "pamper" Pit. He wanted Pit alive. He wanted him conscious. Because you can't feel the full weight of despair if you’re starving to death in a blackout.

‎"You aren't going to die yet, P'Pit," Ya whispered to his own reflection in the dark glass. "Not until you've felt every single bruise you gave me."

‎He adjusted his collar, the silk feeling like a second skin. It was time. He couldn't delegate the suffering any longer. He needed to see the fear in Pit’s almond-shaped eyes for himself.

‎Ya grabbed his leather overcoat, the heavy material creaking in the quiet room.

‎

‎Ya’s leather overcoat brushed against the cold stone floor of the basement as he stepped into the dim light. The "Underground House" wasn't a home; it was a reinforced concrete cage designed to make people talk, or make them disappear.

‎

‎Pit was blindfolded and chained to a low wooden chair in the center of the room. His chocolate-colored hair was matted with a cold sweat that made it cling to his forehead in jagged streaks. In the harsh, clinical light of the basement, he looked small. He looked utterly pathetic.

‎Ya didn't say a word at first. He simply walked a slow, calculated circle around the chair, the rhythmic click-clack of his expensive boots echoing against the concrete like a countdown to an execution. Finally, he stopped.

‎Ya leaned in, reducing his height until he was level with the trembling man. The scent of Ya’s expensive, smoky cologne filled the air, cutting through the sour, metallic stench of the cell. He reached out, his hand steady and graceful as he caught Pit's jaw firmly between his thumb and forefinger.

‎"Such a cute face, but a heart full of evil," Ya murmured. His voice was smooth as velvet, but it carried a weight that seemed to crush the air out of the room.

‎"Please... Please, I don't know anything! Please don't hurt me..." Pit’s voice broke into a high, jagged sob. He thrashed weakly against the chains, his head lolling as if he couldn't keep it upright. "I promise to be a good boy... I won't tell Mom... Please, Dad, please! I'm sorry!"

‎He was babbling nonsense, his mind fracturing under the weight of the withdrawal and the isolation.

‎A low, menacing laugh vibrated deep in Ya's chest—a sound devoid of any real humor.

‎"When the drug starts to leave your system, you become hallucinative," Ya said, his tone mocking.

‎With a swift, fluid motion, Ya ripped the blindfold away. The sudden light was a physical blow. Pit blinked rapidly, his pupils nothing but vast, black voids—proof of the chemical fire still smoldering in his veins. He looked crazed, his eyes darting wildly until they finally locked onto the frozen, ice-blue gaze of the man in the red .

‎"What is it, P'Pit? Did you see the reaper?" Ya mocked.

‎He didn't wait for an answer. Ya reached out, his fingers hooking into the collar of Pit’s sweat-stained shirt. With a violent, sudden jerk, he ripped the sleeve away, the fabric shrieking as it tore. He exposed Pit’s bare shoulder to the biting chill of the basement air.

‎Pit flinched as if he’d been burned, the raw exposure making him feel even more vulnerable under Ya’s icy stare.

‎"Please don't... Please, I beg you," Pit sobbed, his voice cracking. He shook so hard the wooden chair groaned against the floor.

‎Ya laughed—a sound of pure, dark pleasure that echoed off the damp concrete walls. Seeing the man who once thought himself a king reduced to a begging, half-naked heap was more intoxicating than any drug.

‎Knock. Knock.

‎The heavy metal door creaked open just an inch.

‎"P'Ya, the food is—"

‎Tiw wasn't able to finish his sentence. The air in the room was so thick with malice it practically pushed him back into the hallway.

‎"Drop it there and disappear," Ya said. He didn't even turn his head. His voice was a cold, sharp blade that cut Tiw’s sentence in half. The "Boss" was clearly annoyed, and an annoyed Ya was a death sentence for anyone

who lingered.

‎Tiw didn't argue. He placed the tray on the floor with a muffled clink, his shadow retreating quickly as the door slammed shut.

‎Ya looked down at the tray—a simple bowl of rice and some clear broth. It looked pathetic in this room of chains and shadows. He turned back to Pit, his expression shifting from pleasure to a bored, lethal calm. He let the torn piece of fabric flutter to the floor like a dead leaf.

‎Pit’s mouth began to water at the sight of the steam rising from the bowl. The physical craving for the food—or perhaps just the comfort of something warm—overrode his terror for a fleeting second.

‎Ya watched him, his posture languid and relaxed. He spoke lazily, the words drifting through the cold air. "Do you want it?"

‎"Yes... Yes, I want it," Pit whispered, his eyes locked on the tray like a starving animal.

‎"Come and get it."

‎Ya moved the tray, sitting down with the food nearly four feet away from the chained man. He watched as Pit strained against the metal links, the chair scraping harshly against the concrete. Ya’s smirk was sharp at first, but as he watched Pit’s desperate, undignified movements, the expression slowly began to fade. The cold satisfaction was being replaced by a suffocating heat rising in his chest.

‎His memories began to rush back, unbidden and violent.

‎Flashback

‎"You're my bitch, and you should act like one!"

‎Pit’s aggressive voice echoed through the small, dark room, sounding like a whip crack. He didn't just push her; he threw her weight against the floor. Pim felt the grit of the dirt against her palms as she hit the ground.

‎"Eat," Pit sneered, forcing her face down toward the plate he’d kicked across the floor. "Eat like a dog."

‎Pim tried to crawl away, but he was faster, his hand tangling in her hair to hold her in place. The sound of her own weeping filled her ears, a pathetic, broken noise that only seemed to make him angrier. When she choked, making a mess of the food on the floor, the pain followed instantly—a sharp, stinging blow that left her ears ringing.

‎"You're a bad bitch," Pit growled, his shadow towering over her trembling form. "You need to be punished."

‎The sound of a heavy thud—the sound of Pit’s body hitting the cold floor as he reached for the unreachable—brought Ya sharply back to reality. He blinked rapidly, forcing back the tears that threatened to blur his vision. He wouldn't give Pit the satisfaction of seeing him break, not even now.

‎Instead, he replaced the grief with a smirk that promised nothing but wrath.

‎Ya stood up and stepped toward the fallen man. Without a word of warning, he brought his boot down, grinding his heel into Pit's knee with a sickening force. A jagged, painful cry ripped from Pit’s throat, echoing off the concrete walls.

‎"How does it feel to go through what you did to others?" Ya whispered, his voice dangerously low.

‎"I'm sorry... Please... I'm so sorry..." Pit sobbed, the words barely intelligible through the pain.

‎Ya didn't stop. For minutes, he played with Pit—mirroring the same cruel "games" Pit used to play with Pim. He was the cat, and Pit was the broken bird. Only when Pit was breathless and trembling did Ya finally reach for the tray.

‎He remembered how Pit used to feed Pim, but only after he’d seriously injured her—a twisted way of keeping his "toy" alive. Now, the roles were reversed. It was her turn.

‎Ya held the spoon to Pit’s lips. Pit ate like a terrified child, his eyes widening unconsciously with every bite, his gaze fixed on Ya as if trying to decipher his fate. Ya watched him closely, his own lips twitching slightly as the broth disappeared.

‎Was it the thrill of the hunt? Was it the pleasure of seeing his tormentor broken? Or was it something else entirely—a lingering shadow of the girl who once looked for any sign of mercy in this very room

‎

‎

...‎🎞️ Next On: Gay Because of You...

...‎Chapter 4: Things That Won’t Go Away...

‎🎥 [The morning sun hits golden silk sheets where Ya sits shirtless, his wolf tattoo on display]

‎💄 Ya: "Dad, please... why did he say that? I can’t understand."

‎🎥 [Ya, dressed in a sharp forest-green suit, drives his black Aston Martin through the city]

‎🚬 [The engine roars with a low growl]

‎🎥 [Tiw places a bright pink smoothie on the mahogany desk]

‎😮 Tiw: "What will people say... that the great God of Death is addicted to pink smoothies?"

‎🎥 [Ya leans into Tiw’s ear, his voice a dangerous whisper]

‎🖤 Ya: "You have a free day today... for being a good boy."

‎🎥 [Ya stares at the security monitor, his

playful smirk vanishing]

‎⛓️ Ya: "It's time to pay Pit a visit."

‎💬 Fan Corner: Let’s Discuss Chapter 3!

‎While we wait for Chapter 4 to drop, let’s talk about that intense confrontation in the basement!

‎The Flashback: Seeing how Pit treated Pim (making her eat like a dog) was heartbreaking. Do you think Ya is being "fair" by making Pit go through the exact same thing, or is he becoming just as bad as Pit was?

‎The "Dad" Mystery: Pit started crying for his "Dad" during his withdrawal. What do you think that says about Pit’s past? Does the "villain" have a secret trauma too?

‎Ya’s Tears: Ya almost cried when Pit fell to the floor. Was that because he felt sorry for Pit, or because he was remembering how it felt when he was the one on the floor?

‎The Feeding: Ya fed Pit at the end, just like Pit used to do to Pim after hurting her. Do you think Ya is doing this out of a weird kind of "care," or is it just another way to keep his toy alive for more torture?

‎Drop your theories below! I want to know whose side you're on! 👇

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