The friend who betrayed

Kiann's Pov

I slammed the phone down. "Find Franco."

It crashed against the wall, the screen shattering.

How dare Franco sabotaged the shipment of my gold?

"Fucking shit!" I cursed, pacing. My butler silently approached and lit my cigarette. I took a deep drag, exhaling slowly.

Is that the reason why Franco's distanced himself from me lately? Whenever I called him, he claimed he was with his family. He couldn't even meet my eyes.

How did I miss it?

"Do I have any appointments today?" I asked coldly, my Italian accent cutting through the silence.

"No, Señorito," he replied.

I nodded once and stormed out of my penthouse.

I was a loyal friend, a solid business partner, and a good investor—but once you crossed me, the ruthless and merciless mafia ruler of all rulers, you'd learn why no one dared interfere with my plans.

"To the warehouse," I ordered my driver. He obeyed instantly. I didn't bring any of my bodyguards this time.

Being mafia came with its price. I received threats regularly—sometimes subtle, sometimes violent, but always expected.

I had rivals—we could be allies but after finding out what Franco did.

Dad was right.

Because even someone like Franco, whom I trusted, could betray me...what more my enemies?

I trusted no one. Not anymore.

That was my father's first and last lesson to me as a child:

"Anyone can turn against you. Even those you call your best friend, your family, or your only ally," he had said, his hair had turned grey, his voice frail, and body broken.

He was once a fierce, dominant mafia boss—but love and betrayal had weakened him.

He gripped my hand, the fire in his eyes long gone. "Don't become like me," he whispered with a bitter smile that didn't reach his eyes.

I knew, Father. You never got over Mother...or that friend who stabbed you in the back.

And that's why I made a vow—to never care, never soften, never trust.

As we drove through the warehouse.

A woman walking near the abandoned building.

Does she know how dangerous this place is?

I looked away. I didn't care. But her glowing skin stood out even under the moonlight. It pulled at me.

"Stop," I muttered.

I narrowed my eyes at her. Her face was unreadable, the way her eyes were fascinating at the same time she hesitated—like she wanted to run.

When she decided to walk over here. Her eyes locked with mine—and something in me stilled. Like a wire had snapped inside my chest, leaving the rest of me frozen in the aftershock. I didn't move. I couldn't. For a moment, I wasn't Don Kiann, the mafia boss. I was just... a man pulled into a storm I didn't see coming.

Before I could do something I regretted. I shut my eyes and commanded my driver.

"Drive," I finally said, voice sharp. But my pulse had already betrayed me.

As the car pulled away, I glanced back.

She looked stunned.

I bit my lip.

Once this mess is over... I'll find you.

⸻

[Warehouse—9:55 pm)

"You can go back to the penthouse." I told the driver and pointed the BMW car.

He didn't ask and did what I told him.

As I walked inside. I felt like someone was following me but it surprised me that it didn't smell dangerous at all.

"We caught the rat, Boss," Alexander, my consigliere, announced, dragging Franco in—tied to a wooden chair, mouth taped shut.

"Wake him."

Antonio, who always joined us during dirty work, dumped a bucket of cold water on Franco's face. He jolted awake, flinching.

Franco hadn't seen me yet.

Alexander placed a golden chair across from Franco, and I sat down.

"How are you, Franco?" I asked, calm but cold.

His eyes finally met mine—wide, terrified. All his bravado dissolved into pleading.

I clenched my fist.

I never thought he'd be the one to betray me.

"Remove his tape."

Antonio ripped the tape off without care.

"H-have mercy, Don Kiann," Franco stuttered, eyes full of regret.

Too late for that.

He had stolen the gold I'd shipped to France—causing Roberto, one of my most loyal clients, to threaten me. A massive loss. And now I knew... previous failed shipments? Franco. He sold my gold to my own clients behind my back.

The betrayal boiled in my blood.

I stood, walked toward him. He wouldn't meet my eyes. I grabbed his chin and forced him to face at me.

"You betrayed me, Franco," I growled, tightening my grip until it left marks on his skin.

He whimpered. "I-I'm sorry, Don. I just wanted a better future for my daughter. My wife—"

I cut him off, jaw ticking. "You could've borrowed money from me."

"I wanted to stand on my own..." he muttered.

I stepped back. I narrowed my eyes, the rage thick in my throat.

I pulled the gun from my boot and fired into his shoulder.

"Bullshit."

He screamed. Antonio and Alexander raised their guns, ready to fire at my command.

"Please, Don! Don't hurt my family. Take me instead!"

I felt nothing.

"You'll pay for everything, Franco," I said coldly.

Then—a breeze. Gentle, unexpected.

And a familiar scent touched the air.

I looked around and finally, met those eyes.

Hers.

She stood frozen at the edge of the room, eyes wide.

For a moment, I forgot where I was, why I was here.

I smirked.

"Run,"

I turned to Antonio. "Find her. No matter what."

He nodded and ran out.

"Make it quiet," I told Alexander.

He said nothing. Then, just like that—one rat was gone.

Antonio returned shortly after—carrying her over his shoulder.

My eyes darkened.

"Put her down," I ordered. Then quickly changed my mind. "No—let me have her."

Antonio looked confused but obeyed.

The moment I held her, a jolt ran through me—like electricity.

I stared at her face, mesmerized.

"We should kill her," Alexander said quietly but I didn't listen. Instead I put the woman in one of the rooms of the warehouse.

"Are you going to keep her?" Alexander asked. "She's a witness."

"We will wait when she wakes up."

"Kiann," I shot him a dagger look.

"I said we wait until she wakes up," I snapped.

Alexander sighed and left the room.

And now I was left with her.

I still didn't know if I should keep her.

...or kill her?

But I knew what the answer to that question.