Everything was moving at an astonishing pace and Nakamura had entered the fray, yet there was no telling what his influence would ultimately bring.
Whether it would be negative or not remained uncertain, but what was certain was that Kyle was being manipulated by him—otherwise, Nakamura would have already provided the one piece of information that could change everything.
Although, it could also be said that Kyle was playing the sa ga as Nakamura, but the difference was clear—Nakamura was simply playing it better.
Kyle was in unfamiliar territory, up against a seasoned veteran who could now manipulate him into doing his dirty work without him even realizing it. It would be stupid of him to think he had Nakamura beat when it ca to wits.
He left the office but found everything about this situation strange; Nakamura had been far too prepared for soone supposedly hearing about this for the first ti.
There had to be sothing he was withholding, and Kyle had the gut feeling things weren’t as black and white as they appeared.
He hated working with Nakamura in this capacity, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Still, he resolved to do his own research.
Kyle presented the idea of a mole to Alfredo, and ironically, this might just be the truth—with one family leader secretly in cohorts with Cleopatra.
Shortly after, Kyle received a text from Alfredo. It was nothing but an address. Kyle raised a suspicious brow; if they were monitoring him, there was a good chance they already knew about his eting with Nakamura.
But Kyle doubted that was the case here. He had made sure to cover every potential track they could follow.
After the attempt on his life, he had learned that lesson the hard way. Kyle made sure nothing could lead back to him.
He looked up the address sent to him, and it was in a location he wasn’t familiar with, prompting him to think twice about showing up.
"Fuck, Kyle, what have you gotten yourself into?" he muttered under his breath. Still, not going would raise even more suspicion.
He was working for them after all, and he had no reason to decline a eting with the very people he was serving.
Hopefully, this was about the information he had passed to Alfredo, who would have relayed it to the Don.
—
It took a little over thirty minutes for Kyle to arrive at his destination, and the entire area was unsettlingly quiet.
This ti it was another expensive hotel, a high-rise penthouse, and Kyle instantly knew that whatever awaited him inside this building would ultimately decide his fate.
He didn’t want to make the trip to England, but if push ca to shove, he would. Still, this eting would determine exactly where he stood with the Mafia.
He scanned the area thoroughly, taking note of every possible exit route he could use if things went wrong. In his line of work, that single precaution could be the difference between life and death.
Kyle gulped when Alfredo appeared from the building with a cigarette in hand, his eyes searching the surroundings as if looking for soone.
His gaze eventually settled on Kyle, and his neutral expression shifted into a bright smile.
"I’m glad you could make it," Alfredo said. Kyle had co without questions, and that alone showed a certain level of trust.
"It could be important," Kyle responded, trying his best to downplay the tension in the air.
"You’re right, and you won’t regret it. Follow ," Alfredo instructed.
Alfredo spoke to Kyle with an unusual level of respect, and it was evident in his tone despite Kyle technically being beneath him in the drug distribution chain.
He led Kyle into the penthouse, the elevator rising to a floor that shouldn’t have existed.
"It looks like he told them," Kyle thought. There was no way just anyone was staying in such a place.
The elevator doors slid open, and the bloodlust pouring out from the room was unlike anything Kyle had ever felt before.
His throat went dry, and his body scread at him to run, but his mind wouldn’t allow it. He had no choice but to face whatever was inside.
"It is fine, go on," Alfredo urged him, noticing the unease as Kyle’s mask slipped for a brief second.
"I know," Kyle muttered before stepping forward—and then the worst happened.
Before him stood the cruelest of the family, Viktor.
Kyle had expected Alfredo to take this to Marcello. It was Marcello he had wanted to see, not this man.
His eyes darted to the side, and he realized he was alone. Alfredo had already stepped out, the elevator doors closing behind him.
"Huh?" Kyle thought, stunned, as Viktor’s piercing gaze locked onto him.
"Tell , friend, have you heard of the Sokolov Bratva family?" Viktor began, his heavy accent unmistakably Russian.
Kyle wasn’t even sure if he was allowed to speak, but he answered truthfully, his eyes subconsciously scanning the room for anything he could use to defend himself.
"Sokolov? I haven’t, I’m afraid," he confessed.
"Co here, friend. Have a sit," Viktor offered, showing a strange level of hospitality. But why was his bloodlust so loud?
"It must be a test," Kyle thought. If he belonged to this world, bloodlust shouldn’t be enough to startle him. This was a ntal thing and Kyle wore the face of a killer at that mont, unfazed.
He had to hold firm. Luckily, his skill allowed him to instantly learn and replicate what he saw, but this was new ground. He didn’t know if he could do this with bloodlust, and worse—if he did, Viktor might see it as a direct threat.
Before his mind could spiral further, Viktor broke the silence.
"This mole... tell more about it," he asked, and in that mont Kyle knew—he had finally found his way into the heads of the family.
This was a big step in the right direction because the idea of a mole had taken root.
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