**Ethan’s POV**
Rage coursed through me like a wildfire, consuming every ounce of my being.
My entire body trembled with the intensity of it; my chest felt like it was ablaze, a furnace stoked by fury.
Weeks had slipped by since I last laid eyes on Bailey. Weeks filled with unanswered calls, her silence gnawing at me like a persistent ache. And now, the whispers from my men reached my ears—she was spending time with Kaleb.
The thought of that bastard being near her ignited a primal urge to destroy something, anything. The fact that they had grown up together, that they shared a familial bond, only fueled my irritation.
With a surge of frustration, I slammed my phone down onto the desk, the impact reverberating through the wood.
“Fucking Kaleb,” I spat, my voice a raw whisper filled with venom.
“Always nosing around where he doesn’t belong, taking what isn’t his.”
I seized my glass of whiskey, the liquid fire burning its way down my throat in one swift gulp. My fists clenched tightly, veins standing out against my skin, nails digging painfully into my palms.
I could hardly contain the anticipation of finding a way to shove him out of my life, out of my business, and most importantly, out of Bailey’s life.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and my father stepped into the room.
He entered with an eerie calmness, moving like a shadow, silent and deliberate.
Dressed in his usual black attire, he exuded an air of authority, the faint tendrils of cigar smoke swirling around him like a protective shroud. My heart raced; he rarely ventured into my space uninvited. As the mafia lord of the Cobra Syndicate, his presence commanded respect and fear, even from me.
I quickly masked my anger, smoothing my features into a semblance of normalcy.
“Is it school stress?” he inquired, his deep voice slicing through the silence like a knife.
“Yes,” I replied hastily, my throat parched. “Just… exams and assignments. Nothing major.”
He didn’t respond immediately, taking another slow drag from his cigar, the smoke curling from his lips like a dragon’s breath.
Then, his sharp gaze locked onto mine.
“I heard about Kaleb,” he stated flatly.
A chill ran down my spine.
My father rarely acknowledged anyone outside our circle, let alone someone as inconsequential as Kaleb. Did he know that bastard?
“Stay away from him,” he commanded, his tone icy and unyielding.
I stared at him, bewildered. “What? Why? He’s just some stupid kid.”
“It’s too complex to explain,” he replied, his voice steady. “But I don’t want you involved with him—business, friendship, or otherwise. Just stay away.”
Confusion clouded my mind. Why was he so adamant about this? He never interfered in my school drama or social circle.
Kaleb had somehow managed to break through my father’s stoic demeanor.
I frowned, suspicion bubbling to the surface. “Why? He’s nothing, just some small fry. Why would you even care?”
Leaning against the doorway, smoke curling around him like a dark mist, he remained silent for a moment, contemplating.
Then, he took a long drag from his cigar, exhaling slowly.
“Tell me,” he said finally, his voice low and almost menacing. “What’s he like?”
I blinked in surprise. “What do you mean? Like… his personality?”
“Yes,” he urged, his expression inscrutable. “Is he smart? Dangerous? Loyal? Unpredictable?”
I crossed my arms, scrutinizing him. My father rarely asked such questions; he usually possessed all the answers, and if he didn’t, it was a cause for concern.
“He’s… moody and withdrawn. He doesn’t really trust anyone. Keeps to himself mostly, but he’s clever and always calculating.” I shrugged, my disdain evident. “I don’t like him. He’s arrogant and annoyingly good at everything.”
My father’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of interest igniting within them.
He remained silent for what felt like an eternity, puffing the smoke slowly, his gaze fixed on some invisible point in the room.
His face was a mask, but I could detect the faintest twitch of thought behind his eyes.
“You said he is dangerous,” I added cautiously, trying to gauge his reaction.
“Maybe smart. But… I think he’s harmless, I think.”
My father didn’t respond immediately. He tapped the ash off his cigar, his eyes still distant.
Then, he shook his head slowly, almost imperceptibly, as if he were coming to a decision.
“Harmless isn’t the word I’d use,” he finally said.
“And he’s not just a kid. He’s more… layered than you think. People like him… they can be dangerous in ways you don’t see. They hide things.”
I frowned, curiosity piqued. “What things?”
He exhaled, the smoke swirling around him like a ghost. “It’s too complex to explain now, but believe me, Ethan… some things you don’t want to get tangled in. Stay away from him, even if he seems… insignificant.”
A surge of intrigue coursed through me. My father didn’t issue commands like this without a reason, and when he did, it often involved blood, power, or money—or all three.
Something about Kaleb had crossed a line I couldn’t perceive.
I forced myself to nod. “I understand.”
He turned and exited the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
I remained frozen in place, my heart racing uncontrollably.
What the hell was happening?
Why would my father, the most feared mafia lord in the city, care about Kaleb? How did he even know him?
Something was amiss, and I was determined to uncover the truth.
I vowed it.


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