The car ride was tense. Haruto sat in the backseat beside Mr Bagrovskiy, wearing dark slacks and a tailored suit Gabriel had brought him. It fit too well. Suspiciously well. Gabriel didn’t miss details—and Mr Bagrovskiy didn’t leave anything to coincidence.

As they crossed the bridge toward Trastevere, the city’s golden light cast shadows on the river. Rome looked peaceful, timeless even. But beneath the surface, it pulsed with secrets.

“You didn’t say where we’re going,” Haruto said, eyeing his profile.

“To dinner,” Mr Bagrovskiy replied, staring out the window. “With a traitor.”

“That’s romantic,” a note of embarrassment in his voice.

He smirked faintly. “Only if it ends in blood.”

He felt shivers in his body. This is the reason why I don't want to get involved with psycho people, they always choose violence rather than discussing their issues. He said in his mind.

*****

They arrived at an upscale restaurant, discreet and surrounded by bodyguards pretending to be staff. Mr Bagrovskiy’s reputation meant no one asked questions. A private room waited upstairs, candlelit, elegant, and dangerous.

Haruto followed him inside, careful not to touch anything he couldn’t afford to break—or kill for.

Inside sat an older man in a navy suit, his hands folded neatly over a napkin. Ramilo Ferriera. He was a capo under the Bagrovskiy flag, old enough to remember his father, greedy enough to forget loyalty.

“Mr Bagrovskiy,” he greeted with a too-wide smile. “What a surprise.”

W-what?? he said to himself, and Haruto was shocked by what he saw

He didn’t sit. “You’ve been moving money to San Diego’s shell companies. I want to know why,” he asked immediately without hesitation.

Ramilo’s smile faltered. “You’ve been misinformed.”

Gabriel stepped forward and placed a flash drive on the table. “Bank transfers. Offshore accounts. Digital breadcrumbs don’t lie.”

Mr Bagrovskiy finally sat, crossing his legs. “You tried to auction my family to the highest bidder. That’s not betrayal, Ramilo. That’s suicide.”

How did he know? He asked himself a question in his mind. You could see from his face that he was curious about how he knew.

“I had no choice,” Ramilo whispered. “They threatened my son.”

Mr Bagrovskiy’s eyes flicked to Haruto, then back. “We all make choices. You made the wrong one. Let me ask you one question, Ramilo.”

Ramilo looked at Mr Bagrovskiy.

“So you aren’t afraid of me?” he smiled coldly

“T..That’s not what you think, Mr Bagrovskiy... They..”

“They what? Kill your family? I can do that for them. Don’t you think, Ramilo?

Gabriel reached into his shoulder slowly, deliberately. The tension spiked. Ramilo paled.

But Gabriel only placed a pistol on the table, sliding it toward Mr Bagrovskiy.

“Your call,” he said quietly.

The moment stretched thin.

“W..wait..” Ramilo's shaking voice.

Haruto looked at him as if he wanted to help Ramilo. Mr Bagrovskiy noticed his action. 

I don't know what his plan is. I'm just here to gather information, not to witness this kind of blood bath. I don't know if it's luck because the capos and criminals can be taken down easily, or it will get worse, because I know for sure this man is a psycho... Oh God… he said to himself nervously. He imagines the worst thing, and his action makes it obvious.

Then Mr Bagrovskiy pushed the gun aside. “Not here. I’m not my father. I don’t kill over steak.”

Ramilo exhaled shakily along with Haruto and could see the relief on his face.

“But I am sending your son a message,” he continued. “You’ll disappear. Tonight. Or next time, I won’t be so polite.”

Ramilo didn’t argue. He stood up and bowed slightly before leaving.

Haruto waited until the door closed. “That was merciful.”

“Why, you want him dead? I don’t like messy tables,” Mr Bagrovskiy said, smoking his cigar.

“No.. That’s not it! H-how did you know? How do you know it was he who set you up? ” he asked with a curious face.

“As I said, I know everything. I don’t like being betrayed. But I like liars even less,” he said while looking at him. 

He watched him and swallowed hard at what Mr. Bagrovskiy said. As if he knew everything, especially his plan. The candlelight danced in his eyes, softening the edges for a moment. But he saw it now—why people followed him, feared him, and maybe… wanted him.