Santi stood by the hallway window.
Curtains half-drawn. Fingers twitching.
His eyes followed the black car as it rolled out of the gates—Nico in the back seat… and kyan beside him.
That stupid hoodie. That soft blush. That smile.
The butler.
The damn butler got picked.
Santi gritted his teeth, barely breathing. His jaw clenched so tight it ached.
He should've been the one.
He was always the one by Nico's side.
Back in college, during the war meets, even on the bloodiest nights—he was there.
But now?
He watched Nico leave with someone else.
Santi pressed his hand to the glass until it fogged. His eyes darkened.
"Unbelievable," he muttered. "A little kitchen mouse gets to sleep in the lion's den."
---
Later that night, while the mansion was quiet, Santi sat at the Don's private desk.
The study smelled of old wood and cigars, a place no servant should even enter—but Santi was already used to dancing on thin lines.
