The Don had given strict orders.
"No one leaves this house. Curfew starts now. We're on lockdown until further notice."
Every window locked.
Guards posted at every hallway.
But Kyan?
Already slipping through the back.
He wore black from head to toe. Hoodie up. Bag on his shoulder. Heart pounding so loud it felt like it echoed.
One wrong step, one sound too loud—and he was done.
He hugged the shadows, moving past the kitchen, through the garden corridor. He knew the blind spots. The places where the cameras didn't reach.
Almost there.
Then—he heard footsteps and voices.
Two guards walking his way.
He ducked behind a wall, breath caught in his throat.
"Thought I saw something by the back gate."
"Probably just wind. Or a raccoon. Or one of the maids sleepwalking again."
They laughed.
Kyan didn't.
He crouched low, waited for them to pass.
One second.
Two.
Then—run.
Fast but silent, he slipped through the vines near the east wall. Reached the old gardener's shed.
