Bound By Love And Hate Chinese Drama

Steven woke up to an unfamiliar environment, or so he thought. His brain was still trying to process the dream he had. It's been the same one plaguing him for 8 years straight. A time when he had his free will snatched from him, tortured and battered by his masters or mistresses. It was that time he met her, Marrena, the love of his life. The girl who sacrificed everything to make sure he survived, including her life. Steven groaned in anger, remembering how unrecognizable her body was. The only way he identified her was the necklace around her hand, the same one he had given her.

He groaned, shaking the memories off, and in the process, tried moving his arms. He frowned when he couldn't; they were still cuffed to the bed. "Ricardo!" Steven yelled. "Where the f*** is he?" He muttered when Ricardo didn't appear.

"Lucas!" he yelled, and this time, a tall, handsome-looking guy appeared, opening the door. "Hi!" Lucas waved, munching on an apple. "Get me out of this!" Steven demanded.

"Someone's grumpy. Same dream?" Lucas asked, chewing slowly.

"Yeah," Steven sighed.

"Well, maybe you should see the therapist like Ric suggested."

"So they could hypnotize me and feast on my mind? Thanks, but no thanks."

"You're pissed, and it's fine. I would do the same if I were a slave for two years, fell in love, and had no memory of it." Steven stared blankly at Lucas, watching him give a reminder of his predicament.

"I didn't ask you for a summary of my life. Get me out of these cuffs, and where the hell is Ricardo?" he half-yelled.

"Sorry, boss," Lucas said, dropping his half-eaten apple on the table. "There was a problem with the shipment; Ric went to supervise." Lucas reported, withdrawing the key to the cuffs from his pocket. He went ahead to uncuff Steven.

Stevens rubbed his freed wrists, his eyes taking in the room.

"Again?" He asked, and Lucas gave a nod, going back to take his apple. "I'm beginning to think it's planned; it can't be a coincidence." Lucas shrugged, sitting on a couch in the well-furnished room. "Who would want to get on the bad side of the Rodriguez clan?" Lucas asked, his gaze on Steven.

"I don't know, maybe the evil Kevin talked about," Steven replied, sighing. This was the fourth time this month their shipments had been hijacked by the same people but using different methods. There had been no progress in identifying them, only the black mask they left at each scene.

"That's just a dying man's last words; you can't trust anything my bastard of a brother said," Lucas spat.

"I hope so," Steven muttered, taking off his shirt, his back to Lucas. "Damnation!" Lucas muttered, his eyes meeting Steven's back, or what was left of it. Marks and scars ran from his neck to his waist; from the view, you could tell it wasn't a whip or cane that did that. These marks were from heated iron.

"Whoever did this didn't want you alive" he muttered, taking a trip down memory lane.

8 years ago, before his own little betrayal, they were damn close, more like brothers. One day they woke up, and Steven was nowhere to be found. Ricardo exhausted his resources to find him, so did he. Every contact they had, every locator they used, all came up with the same results: no identification. It felt like he was dead. 2 years later, Ricardo didn't give up, and one day, while on another mission to find Steven, they finally saw him. His body was battered, his memories a mess. They were glad he didn't forget them, his brothers. Ricardo patched him up, used every means to make sure Steven got back on his feet. When he finally recovered, and they asked him about his time there, he couldn't remember. His time there left him wrecked, one of them was an addiction to the hardest drug on the web. Ricardo never wanted to involve his business in trading hard drugs, but he did because of Steven. They didn't get the real deal, instead, they got something closer to it. For the past 6 years, Steven has been on withdrawal, and it's not easy. He took a drug for 2 years and is spending close to 6 years; there's still no sign of him getting over it.

"Lucas!" Stevens called out, snapping him out of his reverie. "You spaced out. What were you thinking about?" He asked.

"Nothing, man. I'm good."