You were a traitor.

Bang Chan should’ve seen it coming. You had barged into his life a year ago with wobbly hands holding a gun and a sheepish smile, asking to join his mafia with a oh, too well-prepared backstory. A harmless girl who wanted to avenge her parents’ death. Classic. But Chan had believed it, and he had welcomed you into the family, his mafia, with open arms. He had fallen into your trap without noticing anything. Then it happened. Time passed, dust grew old in the corner of the windows, and he fell in love with you, hopelessly. You were his everything; the only girl he’d ever had eyes for, the only girl he’d let through the barricade circling his heart.

And a year later, here you were in Chan’s office, the second traitor right next to you, your hands tied in your back, Chan’s gun pointed under your chin.

"We’re gonna play a game." Chan murmured, his eyes emotionless. "There’s only one bullet in here. Who do you think’s gonna get hit? You," he pressed the gun harder under your chin, "or him?" Chan asked, nodding at the guy tied up next to you. "Place your bet, love." He said bitterly, spitting out the pet name as if remembering you had played with his feeling all this time. Had you really?