Bradley panted and wheezed for breath, giving it his all with his sprints.  

Hopefully, he could make it to his job on time.

His heart raced as his mind wandered over his perfect attendance record. 

It was about to score a big black mark from his tyrant boss. So far, he could avoid the man's intense scolding, bullying, and scrutiny. Due to his perfect attendance, clean work, and achieving his data load targets.

Today would see his low-profile flip upside down. It wasn’t his fault. He woke and caught the usual morning train, but an accident on the tracks had seen to a fifteen-minute delay. He hadn’t the stomach strength to call his boss to tell him that he would be late, fearing the man’s aggressive ranting from the other end of the receiver.

So, he decided to sprint for his life through the train station turnstiles, up flights of stairs leading him into the bustling and heavily crowded streets, which reeked of morning garbage, fresh coffee, hot savory foods, and body odors. 

He ignored all the city’s stimuli, completely focused on reaching his desk on time.

His mind was fixated on an evil image of his boss with devil horns. Tearing him down in front of all his peers for being late. So much so that he failed to notice a driver's door swinging open. 

He sprinted across a road with his head bowed to his bag. Trying to shove his phone back inside it whilst headed toward the car that was side parked to the curb. Near the start of the footpath beyond.

The interior of the door being opened was pristine with expensive polished leather and a fitted, state of the art, entertainment system.

Bradley slammed right into it. Like running into a closed-door at high speeds. Banging his head hard on the glass, so he fell unconscious into the arms of the car’s handsome driver, who was surprised and angry at the strange man he suddenly found himself holding.

The handsome man's anger abated when he realized Bradley's flushed face and white shirt peeking out from his navy suit, which was clinging to the man's sweaty skin.

“Wonder what company you were trying to reach?” The handsome man mused.

After some split analysis, he maneuvered the man into the back seat of his car (who was, fortunately, lightweight and skinny around the waist) and re-entered the driver seat.

He started up the car and pulled it out of the street, dialing his personal assistant’s number via Bluetooth.

“Adrian! Tell me you are just about to enter the design meeting with SparQ,” said a stern and almost scolding female voice from the car’s receiver.

Adrian sighed. “Change of plans with a twist of fate. I’m heading to the hospital. Release the briefs to the customer and have Simon step-in the meeting via Vidchat.”

“What?! Are you mad? Simon’s just left for his holiday. What’s happened, Adrian? This better not be one of your cock-brain schemes again!”

“Relax, Angie. Simon should still be in the office. Reach him quickly and give him the brief. That is all.” Adrian reassured his personal assistant with his final word, ignoring her irate complaints as he cut her off and took a turn for the city’s hospital.

He glanced at the unconscious man slumped in the back seat from his rear vision mirror.

The man was slender with smooth skin and effeminate looks to rival a female model, especially his large round eyes that were closed to show off his long brown lashes. His light-brown hair was cut neatly to his nape, with soft bangs covering his fine, naturally shaped brows.

Adrian’s mind checked through his project tasks and lingered on the one, he knew he had finally found a solution.

He pressed the call button on his steering wheel and dialed the number for one of his developers.

A smile formed as he saw fate at play and his stroke of luck.

♥

Bradley groaned as he stirred to consciousness. His hand instinctively checked the throbbing lump on his head. Groans changed to sighed relief when it felt small.

Although, his brain might have taken some damage when he blinked in a sight of freshly cut white roses in glass vases, which were perched on a shelf by a sliding door. A massive wall TV faced him, which reflected subtle lighting, drawing out mauve colors from the plain walls. 

What was this? Where was he?

He pushed himself up and realized he was lying on a double bed with crisp white sheets smelling of lemon.

A further glance around the room made his heart race with panic at the various medical instruction and warning labels stuck to the walls, and the metal drip stands near the bed.

He was in a private room, in a hospital.

The penny dropped with more pesky questions nagging his brain, making his hand twitch nervously. He chewed his lip with the obvious thought. There was no way he could afford this!

The person who dumped him there was playing a costly prank. If he could escape before people noticed, maybe he could avoid the bill.

He quietly pushed the sliding door aside and gingerly poked his head out, casting his eyes around the polished green linoleum and sterile white walls of a hospital corridor.

Nursing staff and orderlies in blue uniforms gossiped near the set of doors furthest from his room; others were going about their business. Seems no one was paying him attention.

“Good,” he whispered, as he grabbed his drab jacket draped over the chair near the bed and crept out of the room.

Operation Sneaking Out was proving successful, until the moment he neared the ward’s elevators, and his phone began to ring loudly, drawing attention from the passing orderlies.

He gulped as his hand fumbled about his pants pocket to pull out his phone, which jumped about his nervous hands like a hot potato.

“Are you okay there, mate?” A young orderly asked him with a concerned expression.

Bradley pressed buttons and the screen, doing his best to turn off his ringtone that was a rap track talking about ‘dumping this shit’ on repeat mode.

“Oh, um, I’m fine. Um, just this phone is, well,” he nervously explained.

In a panic, he pulled the back off it and removed the battery.

The elevator doors dinged to an open. Bradley sighed with relief when he waved off the orderly and turned to escape into the elevator.

“Oomph!” He involuntarily complained when his face banged into a firm chest, with a nice scent of vanilla coming off the crisp white shirt.

“Oh, um, very sorry!” He instantly apologized, without bothering to check out the face belonging to the chest.

“And where do you think you’re going?!” A deep, manly voice put Bradley on the spot.

Bradley froze, finding himself unable to pass through the elevator doors that had snapped to a close.

“Um, excuse me?” He responded with a cordial tone and yelped when a firm hand grabbed his arm and began directing him back to the expensive hospital room.

“Oh, no, I’m fine, please you don’t have to take me back there.” Bradley countered the pull with excuses that ended up whiny noise.

“Can you please shut your whiny trap for a moment?” The man commanded Bradley.

Bradley frowned, not liking the man’s audacious tone.

“Excuse me! I’m perfectly fine!” he answered back, managing to jerk his arm out of the hold.

When his eyes looked up to meet the man’s face, he gasped at the sight of his handsomeness, which was a mix of Asian-Caucasian features. 

His symmetrical high cheekbones, square jawline, and split chin were well-balanced by his aloof dark almond eyes and slender nose. His slight wavy black hair was stylishly slicked back off his face. 

The man was wearing an expensive navy suit by Polo, right down to the gold lucky dice cuff links. It was an outfit Bradley had recognized on a mannequin of a shop window that he would regularly walk past on his way to work.

Work!

“Sorry, I have to call my job.” Bradley dropped his interest in the man to make a phone call.

His heart raced with panic again when he struggled to reassemble his device; so fixated on restoring it that he forgot about the handsome man who was looking over his shoulder to see the three numbers he flicked past to reach the one that was titled Bad Boss.

“Bad Boss, huh?” The man breathed into Bradley’s ear that caused him to flinch and fumble with this phone. It slipped out of his hands to smash to the ground; useless.

“Oh, God. Not my day.” Bradley moaned.

“Certainly not when your Bad Boss left you many messages,” said the man apathetically over his shoulder.

“He did?” Bradley gulped. “H-How do you know?”

“I’m the one who brought you to this hospital and a private room after you damaged my car with your body.”

The slick tones from the man's voice were making Bradley more panicky than ever. He gingerly stepped away from him, intending to break for an escape.

“Um, I don’t remember.”

“Of course, since you slammed into my car door with your head.” The man advanced towards him with predatory steps.

“If you got here, it means your car is fine, right?” Bradley gulped, receding from his advances.

“The door’s hinges are bent. It can barely close. I will expect compensation from you.” The man pointed a finger at Bradley.

“Haha, so the car you drive is a 2010 Tarago, right?”

“Does it look like I would drive a Tarago?” The man’s lips twitched with a sinister smile.

Bradley took further steps back and found himself inside the private room.

“Crap!” He cursed internally. The man was blocking the door, so there was no way out.

“Well, looks can be deceiving.” Bradley prayed and hoped it was the truth.

The man chuckled and grabbed his arm to lead him to the window to see the cars parked outside. He saw rows of conservatively priced sedans from the top floor window and a red sports car at the far end.

“Please, not the sports car.” Bradley chanted in his head.

Seeing Bradley’s panicking face, the man pulled out his car keys and pressed the lock and unlock buttons that made the red sports car’s headlights flick on and off.

“Um, the door looks fine from here, surely hinges don’t cost that—” Bradley felt like crying at the repair invoice the man flashed at him from his phone.

“While you were out, I had the car quickly assessed. 150 thousand dollars in damage you owe me. I hope you have the insurance to cover.” The man coolly declared. “Not to mention, the price of this room.”

“Now wait one moment! I didn’t ask to be put in here!”

“Should I have left you on the side of the road to bleed to death?” The man countered. “I drove you here with my car door flapping open! I should be thanked!”

“Well, I guess, thanks, but I’m not paying for this.” Bradley put his foot down or rather patted the floor with it.

“If that’s so, I’ll just call my lawyers to draft up a lawsuit and—”

Bradley’s head throbbed with nervous tension thinking of going to court. That would certainly leave a stain on his working record. Not to mention, his boss would hurl abuse at him for being an idiot before firing his ass.

“Okay! But, I’m just your regular salaryman. I’ll only be able to pay by installments. Can I do that?”

The man’s laughter caused a myriad of nervous expressions on Bradley’s face. It was just his rotten luck to damage the car of a crazy rich man.

“Actually, you were fired today after your boss didn’t hear from you. He sent you many messages whilst you were under. I saw one that said you were fired, flash on your phone.” The man’s laughter subsided into a sinister chuckle. “That’s okay. I have another way you can pay me back.”

Bradley started writing off his favorite anime, manga, and games collection to his youngest brother and a note of apologies to his best friend for being sold to the mafia.

“Please mafia man, spare my family, I beg you. I’ll do your bidding!” He dropped to his knees, begging the man for mercy.

“Mafia man?” The man mused. His lips twitched with a smirk. “Not bad. Okay, from today, you work for me.”

Bradley stopped his begging, looking at the man with a perplexed expression. “Um, what sort of work?”

He gulped at the man’s triumphant expression.

“I will make you pay back the damages with your body. You will become an employee of my company, T-Strike.”

“Shit. Holy mother in heaven! Please protect my ass!” Bradley pleaded in thought.

An orderly entered the room and paused at the sight of Bradley kneeling on the ground before the princely dressed man.

“Um, it’s time for your check-up.” The orderly soberly declared.

“Of course, I will leave him to you,” the mafia man said as he moved to the door. He paused to cast a final glance at Bradley, who was being assisted off the floor.

“Bradley James. I will send my personal assistant for you in the morning.”

“Um, who are you?” Bradley bravely asked.

“Adrian Masters,” the mafia man answered before leaving the room.

“Who?” Bradley spoke his question to the uninterested orderly and received a shrug for an answer.

He hoped that the man wasn’t as evil and crazy as he imagined him. He preferred his ass to remain virginal.