Kyle stood there in the opulent dining room, chest heaving from the scuffle, his back against the wall as he eyed Cleopatra warily. She’d straightened her robe with casual grace, that predatory smile still playing on her lips, her fingers glistening from where she’d licked them. The air felt thick, charged with the remnants of her unwanted advance—her hand in his pants, stroking him against his will, her breath hot on his ear as she whispered perversions. He wiped blood from his nose, the metallic tang sharp on his tongue, but his mind raced far beyond the pain. Escape? Impossible. Guards lurked just outside, the sniper’s dot could reappear any second, and Cleopatra held all the cards here. Resisting meant death—swift, messy, final. He had no weapon, no backup, no way out alive if he fought back now. He knew he could call her bluff but it was something worth risking right now.

He lowered his hands slowly, signaling surrender, his body slumping against the wall as acceptance washed over him. There was no choice but to give in to her demand, whatever twisted game she played next. She’d backed off for now, but her eyes gleamed with control. Kyle’s thoughts spun: Cleopatra had tasked him with protecting Ella, her own sister. Killing him outright made no sense—it would undo her own orders, leave Ella exposed. No, she needed him breathing, useful, a pawn in her larger scheme against Marcello even if it was to get Isabeau on her side. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t toy with him, break him down until he bent to her will. His bluff about the mole—thrown out to Viktor in desperation—had snowballed into truth. Isabeau, the French family head, was the betrayer, leaking secrets to Cleopatra. It explained her urgency to "retrieve" him; she must think he was heading to Marcello to expose her. Everything aligned too perfectly, like fate mocking him. Kyle couldn’t believe his luck—or curse. A random probe had uncovered the rot at the Mafia’s core. If Kyle could use this to shape his narrative, he could get closer to Marcello’s threat.

Isabeau wouldn’t kill him outright, he reasoned, rubbing his sore wrist where Cleopatra had twisted it. Doing so would spark questions—why eliminate a nobody like him? It would point fingers back at her, fuel suspicion in Marcello’s ranks. No, she needed him to clear the air, spin a tale that shifted blame elsewhere. A fall guy. Viktor came to mind—the brutal Russian, Marcello’s most trusted enforcer, with his metal teeth and bloodlust. Taking him out would solve it: pin the mole label on Viktor, let Isabeau "uncover" it through Kyle’s " intel." It weakened Marcello, sowed chaos, and kept Isabeau’s hands clean. Kyle saw the play—brilliant, ruthless. If he played along, he might walk out alive, even turn this to his advantage. Resist? She’d fabricate proof of his betrayal, execute him as a loose end. No trial, just a body in the river. There was a high chance his body would never be found and everyone would assume he ran away even though he would have more to lose by doing so seeing as he was in charge of an empire with vast wealth.

There was no way he would abandon all of that even if the Mafia had shown interest in him but Kyle knew all of this was nearing a conclusion so he would soon be able to return to his life.

Kyle was an equally influencial man that would do more good on their side than dead but something told Kyle that killing Marcello wouldn’t be the end of this.

If Isabeau took over the Mafia, there was a strong chance she would be a thumb under Cleopatra, giving this sociopathic bitch even more power.

This was the worse-case scenario but there was also a chance that Nakamura would be a worse choice.

He sank into the chair, defeat settling like a weight on his shoulders. The table still held the untouched platters of food, mocking the normalcy they’d pretended at earlier. Cleopatra watched him from her seat, legs crossed, robe slightly askew to reveal a glimpse of thigh—deliberate, always deliberate. "Smart choice," she said softly, her voice a silken thread.

"Sit tight. Isabeau’s men will be here soon."

Kyle nodded numbly, his mind dissecting every angle. Being hauled to Isabeau felt like jumping from fire to furnace, but it beat staying caged with Cleopatra. Her touch still lingered on his skin, a violation that twisted his gut—her hand wrapping around him, stroking slow while he struggled, her lips at his ear murmuring how his fight excited her. She was unhinged, a beautiful monster with endless resources, craving what she couldn’t conquer. Facing Isabeau meant questions, maybe torture, but also a shot at negotiation. Here? Cleopatra could toy with him indefinitely, her whims law in this fortress as this was her world.

No, Isabeau’s "cage" offered variables—leverage if he played the mole card right.

Isabeau didn’t know him beyond the information he held and something told him Cleopatra must have spoken about him which was why Isabeau knew to call her to ask about him.

And if she knew what she did, why didn’t she report to the other heads and out him as the mole once and for all?

Minutes dragged like hours. Cleopatra sipped her wine, unperturbed, her eyes flicking to him now and then with that same hungry gleam. The door remained shut, but he heard faint footsteps outside—guards shifting, waiting.

Finally, a sharp knock echoed. Cleopatra rose smoothly, waving in the newcomers without a word. Three men entered, clad in dark suits, faces hard and expressionless, pistols holstered at their sides. Isabeau’s crew—efficient, no nonsense.

The lead one nodded at Cleopatra. "Package secure?"

She inclined her head. "He’s yours. Handle with care— he’s... valuable." Her gaze lingered on Kyle, a smirk tugging her lips.

There was clear perversion in her eyes but Kyle had to toughen up, this couldn’t be the thing to rattle him.

Kyle stood without protest, hands visible to avoid triggers. Relief mixed with dread as they flanked him—no cuffs, but their presence screamed control. He glanced back at Cleopatra one last time. She watched with keen interest, leaning against the table, arms crossed over her chest.

"Good luck, Kyle," she murmured, her tone laced with amusement. "You’ve proven quite the asset. Who knew you’d sway Isabeau so easily?"

He didn’t respond, letting the men lead him out. The estate’s halls blurred as they marched him to a waiting black SUV, doors opening with a click. Inside, the leather seats smelled of polish and faint gun oil. As the vehicle pulled away, gates swinging open, Kyle exhaled. Out of one web, into another—but alive. Cleopatra’s parting words echoed: he’d become the key, unwittingly pushing Isabeau to act against Marcello. Now, to survive the next cage and turn it to his gain.

Kyle mulled Isabeau’s play deep. Her men hauled him—better than Cleopatra’s grip. But what next? She needed him to clear suspicion, spin Viktor as mole. Bluff turned fact; luck or curse?

Kyle weighed Isabeau’s move hard. Hauled from Cleopatra’s estate, cuffed in the back seat, he replayed her words. Mole fear drove her—Viktor’s talk sparked it. He couldn’t see anything, they had thrown a bag over his head to prevent him from seeing where they were taking him.

A standard protocol, Kyle knew it was best to remain calm in this situation, he was safe for now but he replayed all the combat skills he had learned. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

This wasn’t John Wick, all it would take to kill him was one bullet, there was no escaping that fate as all of these men were trained killers.

Their aim would definitely not be like that of an untrained guard like movies portrayed so Kyle knew this wasn’t the time to resist.

She couldn’t kill him—suspicion spikes. Needed him to name another. Viktor was the most likely one and clearly the most dangerous Mafia.

There was no way someone with the nickname of butcher would be anything but dangerous, he was big but also fast however Kyle couldn’t help it.

He was glad he had instructed his system to transfer his entire wealth to Jane should something happen to him so this was something that would work out in their favor,

But the thought of Cleopatra grabbing him lingered, he had no idea what she wanted with him or if anything she said regarding Ellla was true.

One thing he knew for certain, he couldn’t be having someone that derange in his harem, even if it was a long shot.

It was a shot he never planned to take or initiate.

The SUV sped through the street and Kyle paid attention to every turn and stops, even though he knew there would be some ’false’ turns mixed in there.

None of it mattered thanks to the skills he had been blessed with by the system.

"I will not be dying today," Kyle muttered under his breath.