Kyan stood at the edge of the balcony, arms crossed tightly over his chest, the morning breeze ruffling his shirt.
His eyes were dull, staring blankly out at the gates where the blood still hadn't fully washed off.
They'd done it.
Last night, they executed them—thirty men. Thirty trained Massimo guards. Right in front of him.
And Nico… that heartless bastard stood there like a god, watching heads drop with no blink, no pause.
Kyan swallowed the lump in his throat. He didn't even flinch… he enjoyed it. I fucking hate him. Nico Luciano... One day, I'll pay you back for this. One day, I'll make you bleed.
He didn't realize someone had walked up behind him.
"You good?"
The voice was deep but soft—Ace. The quietest of the three bullies, the one who always tossed him extra blankets at night, the one who didn't make fun of the way Kyan held his spoon with his pinky up.
Kyan quickly wiped his eyes and forced a small smile. "Yeah. I'm good. Just tired."
