Kael had always been plagued by a disturbing feeling that he was being watched or followed.
When he looked back, there was no one, no presence, just wind.
But the feeling lingered like a cold wind on a rainy day.
It left at dawn as though it dreaded the sunlight, and then by nightfall, it returned again like a shadow in the night.
This subtle paranoia had clung tightly to Kael's soul ever since he was a child.
That fear clung to him even now.
At 7 PM, the city below pulsed with life, honking taxis, shouted curses, and people rushing home from work.
Kael was seated on the sky tower, watching the city from above.
An abandoned building, where he came to seek refuge from the harsh treatment of those around him.
He had been treated as trash, an underdog to mafias, until the dice of luck rolled in his favor, and he stumbled upon a bag containing millions of dollars.
That was the beginning of his uprising, but in the mafia world, money alone was not enough to rule.
It was a full moon that night, and staring right at it almost felt like it was calling to him.
He was drawn to it like the pull of gravity, another weird feeling he did not understand.
As the night dragged on, Kael heard a sudden movement behind him.
He froze, his heart thudding with panic at the sound of the distant movement.
He turned to look at what was behind the noise, but all he could catch was the wind howling around the building.
Yet, the paranoia sank its claws deeper.
The paranoia had returned, the disease that plagued his soul, and now his cool evening was ruined.
Kael got up from the edge of the tower where he sat and strode through the darkness in the building with just his phone's light.
The building was usually filled with thugs, beggars, prostitutes—name them.
But ever since Kael secretly bought the building using a different name, he dealt with the thugs and provided better shelter for the beggars.
He bought the tower for one sole reason: geography.
As an underboss, Kael needed to know every corner of the streets, and this particular building offered him that leverage.
Another sound broke through the silence, this time louder. It sounded like an animal.
Kael's pulse spiked as he turned toward the direction of the noise; it was a snarl.
He saw a shadow move, the light from his phone revealing its bared teeth and golden eyes.
Instinct took over; Kael immediately took out his gun and shot at it, but it vanished into the air in the twinkling of an eye.
He stood frozen, his gun still raised, breath hitched.
"What the hell just happened?" he mused, he knew what he saw this time around was real, too real.
The air around him felt thicker; he could almost cut through it.
Was this eerie creature real? Or was his paranoia getting worse as he aged?
Kael swept the light across the space, hoping to see something or someone, but there was nothing.
Without wasting any more time, he hurried through the darkened halls, his footsteps silent like a stalking wild cat.
Kael stumbled onto the street, and the city's busy chorus swallowed the tower's silence behind him.
His heart still raced, the memory of that snarl gnawing at him.
The more Kael thought about it, the more confused he became.
"Where've you been, Kael?" A husky voice cut through.
Kael turned to see an old man in a black coat, his walking stick tapping the pavement.
He happened to be Don Belmondi's most trusted runner.
"The Don's been tearing the city apart looking for you."
"My phone's on," Kael snapped, pulling it out. The screen glowed: airplane mode. "Shit."
The old man's lips twitched. "One more thing, Kael," he said, then his voice dropped to a whisper.
"Stay out of these dark corners. Word is, strange beings prowl the shadows at night, beings that can't be brought down by bullets."
Kael smirked, but his grip tightened on the gun in his coat. "I thought I was the only paranoid one. Guess we're many."
"If the rumors are true, what's are you doing out here?" Kael asked, his eyes flicking to the shadows.
"Looking for death," the old man teased, a faint smile spreading across his lips as he tapped his stick. "Good night, Kael."
Somehow, the old man's warning echoed in Kael's head as he strode toward Belmondi's mansion.
Strange beings or not, the Don's summons felt like a closing net.
Kael reached the massive estate, where a guard ushered him into a dimly lit room.
Seven other men were there, their eyes sharp with scrutiny.
Kael was the youngest there; he could tell the air was heavy with the clan's disdain for him.
He sat, and Belmondi entered immediately, his presence sucking the morale from the room.
"Where the hell have you been, Kael?" he barked, his voice cutting like a blade.
"Studying the streets, boss," Kael said, meeting his gaze.
"Studying the streets?" Belmondi sneered, eyes glinting. "Is he a geographer now?"
The room erupted into laughter, but Belmondi's stare didn't waver. Kael forced a smirk, although his pulse quickened.
"Sit down, everyone," Belmondi ordered, silencing the noise. "I've got news. A gold bank in a remote region called The Hallow," he stated. "It will be the biggest score we'll ever see. We're taking it all."
The men cheered, fists pounding the table, but Kael stayed quiet.
A heist that massive? The risk could bury them.
Kael's job had always been planning escape routes, dodging cops, not cracking vaults. Gold, though—that was a siren call even he couldn't ignore.
"But first," Belmondi cut in, his voice turning cold, "there's something I need to handle."
He leaned forward, knuckles white on the table.
"There's a traitor in my clan. Someone moving behind my back."
Kael's heart slammed against his ribs.
Belmondi drew his gun, cocked it with a click that echoed like a death roll. "It ends tonight."
His eyes locked on Kael's, as he pointed the gun toward him.