Page 45 of Mafia Crown

He’s breaking me—piece by piece. And the worst part is, I don’t know how to stop him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

KIERAN

I’VE NEVER BEEN this angry. Not in years. Not since that night when my sister tugged on my sweater and whispered,Kier, I’m so hungry.The same fire in my veins is burning me alive now, and it’s because of Hazel. Because of her words.

She didn’t just mention my sister—shecutme open with it. She said everything I’ve built is soaked in blood. And the worst part? She’s not wrong. But hearing it from her feels like betrayal wrapped in the truth.

My fists clench; the memory of what I said about Charlie is gnawing at me like a bad wound. I shouldn’t have brought him up. I know it. She was going to leave him behind because she wanted to escape. And honestly? I don’t blame her for that. But I can’t let her stand there and judge me.

I pace in a tight circle outside the back door, breathing hard as if the cold night air could somehow wash away the frustration flooding my chest. It doesn’t. My boots crush the gravel beneath me as I stomp through the small path, each step louder, harder, like I’m trying to stamp out the fury in my head.

I’m ready to roar into the night, ready to let out every scream I’ve ever swallowed. The frustration that’s building inside me is suffocating. I drag a hand through my hair, tugging hard at the roots, but it does nothing to stop the storm swirling inside me.

Hazel’s words keep repeating, twisting me so tightly that I’m sure I’m about to snap. I’ve never cared what people say. Words have never meant anything to me. But hers?Herscrawl under my skin, bury themselves deep, and take control of me in a way I hate.

That’s why I’m out here and not in there with her. Because if I were, I’d probably say something that would ruin everything, and I don’t know if I’d be able to take it back.

My throat tightens as another memory crashes into me. My sister, standing in the dim light, holding her stomach, her tiny fingers tugging on my sleeve.

"Kier, I’m so hungry."

I had looked down at her, my heart breaking into pieces I couldn’t afford to lose. I had tried everything to feed her, but with no money and no options, all I could do was sit there and listen to the sound of her stomach growling, each rumble like a knife dragging across my ribs. That night, I lay awake, biting down on my fist to keep from screaming.

That’s what it feels like right now—with Hazel. Like no matter how hard I try to fix this, I’m already too late.

I stop pacing and lean against the wall, my breath fogging in the cold air. My chest heaves as I try to rein myself in, but the only thing I can think about is going back inside and making her see me. Making herunderstandme. But how do I do that when I can’t even make sense of myself right now?

A noise in the distance smashes through my mind, shattering the memory of my sister’s hunger and Hazel’s pain. They vanish like smoke, dissolving into the cold night. My head clears in an instant. My instincts take over, sharpening every sense until I’m no longer a man but a hunter.

I scan the area, my gaze slicing through the darkness. Then I see it—a flash of silver. It’s quick, but I’m quicker. I lunge to the side, and the knife buries itself into the wooden door frame where I’d stood a second ago.

Too fucking close.Whoever this is, they’ve seen me.

I should go inside, grab my rifle, arm myself properly. That’s what a smart man would do. But I’m not thinking rationally. I’m already moving, heading straight toward the direction the knife came from. Each step feels like a declaration, a warning. My pulse pounds, my breathing steady as my body tunes itself to one singular purpose:hunt.

A roar tears from my throat, loud and raw, vibrating through me and ripping across the ground like a storm breaking loose. It echoes through the trees, through the silence, and I know exactly what it does—it spreads fear. That’s what I want.Let him know I’m coming.

I hear movement ahead. He’s running.Good.

The thought twists into something dark and satisfying. My lips pull back in a feral grin as I push harder, sprinting through the uneven terrain, my boots crushing twigs and dead leaves. The night air slaps against my face, but I don’t feel the cold. I don’t feel anything except the fire in my veins, the overwhelming need to catch this bastard.

Nothing else exists now. Not Hazel, not the weight of her words, not even the knife I barely dodged.

Only this.

Only the chase, the thrill of knowing I’ll catch him. And when I do? He won’t have a chance to breathe. Killing him is the only thing driving me forward. It fuels me, consumes me. The blood pounding in my ears is the only sound that matters.

Branches whip at my arms as I close the distance, and I can hear his frantic footsteps ahead. He’s panicking, stumbling, and that makes me grin wider. He thought he could ambush me, and now he’s running scared.

“Come on,” I mutter under my breath, my voice dark and low. “Let’s see how fast you really are.”

My fingers flex as if I’m already wrapping them around his throat, already feeling the moment he will go limp beneath me. My mind races ahead to that inevitable second when he will stop struggling, when his breath is gone, and his life is nothing more than a memory buried in the dirt.

It’s the sound of a gun being loaded that freezes me. Everything stops—the pounding in my chest, the adrenaline rush that had me surging forward—it all crashes to a dead halt as my boots dig into the dirt. My breath hitches, and I feel the weight of the gun trained on me without needing to turn around. The man I was chasing, slows his pace, stops running, and starts walking back toward me.

The barrel of the gun pressed against me keeps me still, as though it’s physically holding me in place. Neither of them speaks at first, and I sure as hell don’t ask any questions. I keep my breathing steady, calculating. Waiting. The man I chased stops directly in front of me, both of them hidden behind masks.

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