For Kael, the world had tilted violently in an instant. He had never seen death up close—never heard the deafening crack of a gun fired in front of him,
never seen warm blood dripping onto polished floors like it was nothing but spilled water. His chest felt hollow, his stomach twisted, and his legs threatened to give way.
It was horrifying. Fearsome. The kind of thing that could stain a mind forever.
And yet beside him, Leo had reacted as though it were routine—like violence was just another passing storm.
His expression hadn't flinched at the gunshot, his steps had been steady, and his voice calm.
But this time… it wasn't his brother, his guards, or even himself Leo was concerned about.
It was Kael.
Leo could feel the boy trembling against him, could hear the sharp, uneven gasps tearing from his throat.
For the first time in a long time, Leo hated how normal this scene was for him. Because to Kael, it was hell.
He tightened his hold, his hand resting against the back of Kael's head, gently pressing him against his chest to shield him from the world.
His other hand rubbed slow, firm circles against Kael's back, as if grounding him to something solid.
"Shhh…" Leo whispered, his tone softer than anyone would ever believe he was capable of.
"Don't let it eat you alive. It's over. You're with me."
Kael's breath hitched, his fingers gripping Leo's shirt like it was the only lifeline he had. His voice cracked, barely audible.
"L-Leo… that… that was—"
"I know," Leo cut in, his tone firm but not cold, steady enough to pull Kael's panicked mind back piece by piece.
His thumb brushed against Kael's temple, the rare tenderness in his touch betraying the weight he felt inside.
"But you don't need to carry it. Let me handle it. Just… breathe. Look at me, not what's behind those doors."
And slowly, painfully, Kael's ragged breaths began to even out—not because the horror had faded, but because Leo's presence forced a fragile calm to take root where fear had been overwhelming.
For once, Leo wasn't brushing it off for his own sake. He was holding Kael together—protecting not just his body, but his heart.
Kael finally pulled himself away from Leo's chest, though his knees still felt weak, like the ground beneath him might crumble.
He dragged in a shaky breath, palms clammy, before blurting out in a voice that cracked between disbelief and anger,
"What the fuck just happened?"
His wide eyes darted back to the heavy doors that had just shut, sealing off the sight of blood on the floor, the sound of a body collapsing.
His chest still burned from the echo of the gunshot, the image replaying like a cruel loop in his head.
Leo didn't flinch. His arms slid into his pockets, his posture too casual for what had just happened, his gaze averted like it wasn't worth more than a passing mention.
"Um… it's my brother. In this house, it's always him. So it would be… some business."
His tone was calm, detached. Like 'business' was a word strong enough to cover up the horror Kael had just witnessed.
Kael stared at him in disbelief, his lips parting as a shaky laugh—half hysterical, half bitter—escaped.
"Business? Wow. Sure. A 'business' that nearly made me—" he broke off, dragging a trembling hand through his hair, "—traumatized!"
His voice rose at the last word, cracking under the weight of his own fear.
He paced two steps back, then forward again, unable to contain the flood of emotions—the fear, the anger, the absurdity of standing in the middle of this.
Leo finally turned to him, his expression unreadable, but his eyes softer than his words. He tilted his head, almost sighing.
"I know it feels like hell. But for me… that's normal. For him, it's daily routine."
Kael clenched his fists at his sides, his throat tightening.
"Normal for you doesn't mean it's normal for me,"
he muttered, his voice breaking, his gaze dropping to the ground.
For a moment, silence hung heavy between them. Kael's chest heaved with uneven breaths,
while Leo studied him quietly—too used to blood to fear it, but not too numb to see how it was tearing Kael apart.
And though he wouldn't say it out loud, Leo's chest twisted with a rare, sharp ache the realization that his world was already eating into Kael' and that terrified him more than the blood ever could.
The air still felt thick, heavy with the scent of gunpowder and the phantom stench of iron that Kael swore lingered in his nose.
He hadn't unclenched his fists yet when one of the suited bodyguards stepped forward, bowing slightly.
"Mr. Leo… you can go inside now."
Leo gave a curt nod, already preparing to lead Kael in. But before he could move, Kael's voice tore through the silence—sharp, trembling with a mix of anger and fear.
"Wait."
The guard stiffened, confused. Kael's jaw was tight, his voice snapping louder than he intended.
"First clean that shit."
His words dripped with disgust, but his eyes betrayed the shake beneath the surface—the memory of blood splattering against the polished floor, the sound echoing like thunder in his ears.
His chest rose and fell quickly, like his body was still trying to reject what it had just seen.
Leo turned to him, one brow raised. For a second, irritation flickered in his gaze—this wasn't how things were done here, no one told his men what to do except him.
But when he saw the tension in Kael's shoulders, the way his hands trembled even though he tried to mask it with defiance, the irritation faded.
With a sigh, Leo glanced at the guard and gave a short nod.
"You heard him. Clean it up. Now."
The guard didn't hesitate. He bowed again and moved quickly, signaling to a few others.
Within moments, footsteps echoed and the faint scuff of mops, cloths, and hurried voices filled the background.
Kael didn't watch—he turned his head away, biting down hard on his lip, willing his stomach to settle.
Leo stood beside him in silence, watching. Not the guards—Kael. Watching the storm that brewed behind those eyes.
Minutes crawled by until finally, one of the bodyguards returned, his suit spotless, his gloves faintly damp. He gave a short nod.
"Done, sir."
Leo's gaze lingered on Kael, as if silently asking if that was enough.
Kael exhaled slowly through his nose, his arms folding across his chest, trying to rebuild the wall of composure he always carried.
He didn't say thank you. He just gave the faintest nod, jaw clenched.
Leo, on the other hand, smirked faintly—though it wasn't his usual arrogant smirk. This one was softer, tinted with something he didn't show often.
"Tch… you really don't belong in this world, do you?" he murmured, voice low enough that only Kael could hear.
Kael shot him a glare, his voice hoarse.
"And you're too damn comfortable in it."
The words hung between them like a knife—sharp, bitter, but true. And for the first time in years, Leo felt a sting in his chest that even blood and bullets couldn't cause.
Then they stepped inside ...