Having been raised up to eventually take the place of his grandfather, Gao had an incredible weight on his shoulders. However, he also felt guilt from his sister Hana losing it all when their parents died and his younger brother had terrible coping mechanisms. Oftentimes, he felt like the glue holding everything together. He always gave attention to Lien or was there to keep him safe from Master Cheung's disapproval and punishment, especially when Lien would dress provocatively or come on in a drugged stupor. For Hana, he tried calling to ask where she was or if she was okay, though rarely she would answer. The greatest challenge was taking care of Master Cheung while trying to be perfect in every way.

He had to deal with his grandfathers dangerous paranoia and give all himself away for the sake of the Triad. Gao was loyal, at least at face value from his demeanor and actions, but something tugged at him from the back of his mind. The festering pressure of being in his position was an internal battle that he constantly had to suppress. When he arrived back at the estate, he had felt confident. Lien was good with getting information and he had thought giving the number of the mafia boss would keep tensions at bay. On the other hand, Hana seemed to have gone completely silent over the past couple of days. All of this was on his mind as he opened the doors to Master Cheung's sitting room, announcing his presence. "Grandfather, it's good to see you up and about," he chimed shoved his phone in his back pocket.

"My beautiful grandson, you make me so proud," declared Master Cheung in the sitting room by the fireplace. His right hand, wrapping around the handle of his oak wood cane adorned with a golden crest, exuding authority. "I just want to make you proud, grandfather," replied Gao, positioned near an upholstered chair, assisting his grandfather to his feet. There were only two reasons Master Cheung would leave the comfort of the estate: meetings or addressing issues. "You shouldn't overdo it; let me help more. I'm ready," Gao whispered in a hushed tone. Master Cheung responded, "No, my boy. As long as I can walk and still have one good eye, I'll be keeping to it." An airy laugh escaped him, and Gao chuckled.

Leaving the sitting room, the two went out into the main hall towards the front door. A meeting with the Italians awaited them, addressing issues with a delayed cocaine shipment. Gao sensed something amiss, gauging the intensity with which Master Cheung insisted on keeping things afloat and more worryingly it seemed that his grandfather has a hint of uncertainty. Descending the stairs, they approached a black Mercedes. A meeting with the Italians was no walk in the park, and the car journey would take an hour to reach the shipyard outside Beijing. It was a rainy day, traffic backed up the main roads of the city and the further they ventured from the heart of Beijing the harder it rained. Upon arriving at the shipyard, Master Cheung placed his hand on Gao's knee, an encouraging gesture.

"Remember, never trust the enemy, especially not the Italians. I fear their loyalties are volatile," Master Cheung advised, his gaze stern. The old man nodded, and Gao understood. Master Cheung exited the car with Gao, facing Luca Visconti, the Italian mafia boss' son, who stood proudly. "Ciao! I didn't think you'd make it, old man," Luca cut through the silence. Master Cheung, maintaining composure, retorted, "Can't say I expected the same; your kind is always bad at time management," holding onto Gao's arm. Master Cheung leaned over, whispering into his grandson's ear.

"I can trust you, right?"

Gao nodded and squeezed his grandfathers arm gently. Stepping forward, Gao faced Luca, the sun peeking through rain clouds, casting a glow over his dark eyes. "I think I speak for everyone here that we want this all sorted out. The shipment was due to arrive two days ago." He cracked a fake smile, feeling a buzz in his pocket. Behind him, Master Cheung leaned on the hood of the Mercedes, his driver and bodyguard standing outside. Luca, sniffing and groaning, interrupted. "Right, all sorted out. Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news—ugh, mind if I? One second." Luca paused mid-sentence, pulling out a small bag of white powder, tapping it onto the back of his hand and snorting it. Gao crossed his arms with a look of disgust, he hated drug users. Luca held his nose shut for a moment, cracked his neck. "Right, where were we? The shipment! I hate to break it to you, but we sold your product elsewhere. Already rerouted the ships." Luca announced, running his fingers through his hair and grabbing a cigarette from behind his ear. Those words escalated the tense atmosphere, though not for Luca who by now was high. Gao, stunned, and Master Cheung, standing up from the car hood, confronted the betrayal.

"Elsewhere?" Gao spoke with a heated tone as his phone buzzed again. "Ah yes, I mean wouldn't you know? Aren't you in bed with the Russians or something? I got word that your brother is in Moscow by now. It's funny because that's where the shipment is." Luca began laughing hysterically. "You should see the look on your grandfather's face! The infestation of the Triad is coming from inside the house. Seems like it could be this prodigal son of yours, old man." The Italian couldn't contain his laughter. "You'll regret throwing around baseless accusations like that," Gao spat, and his phone rang again, catching Master Cheung's suspicious glance at his grandson's back pocket. "You gonna answer that call? Is it Reznikov?" Luca reached into his waistband, hand on the holster of his gun, whistling a quiet tune.

A group of men emerged from the industrial building, standing behind Luca. Gao was sweating profusely, attempting to grab his phone to turn off the call—a big mistake. The seasoned mafia members reacted swiftly to the sudden movements, triggering a cacophony of gunshots and incoherent yelling. Gao turned on his heel, grabbing his grandfather to usher him into the car while the bodyguard covered them, firing at the Italians. Gao, now in the driver's seat, started the engine as blood splattered across the windshield. The driver was shot dead and feel against the hood of the car and the bodyguard hopped into the back seat. Underestimating how swiftly the Italians turned on the Triad, Master Cheung cursed as the tires screeched, and the car drifted into the main road at top speed. In the midst of the chaos, Master Cheung had reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a gun.

"Grandfather! I-I can explain!" Gao swerved on the road when he saw the gun, knowing that his grandfather was getting ready to shoot. Fortunately for Gao, the gun went off towards the backseat and the bodyguard went limp. His heart was racing when he saw the bloodied mess in the mirror. Master Cheung sucked his teeth, and kept the gun on him.

Gao gripped the steering wheel tighter, eyes fixed ahead as they drove off. When the coast was clear, silence enveloped the car. Master Cheung closed his eyes, regaining composure. Thick with paranoia, they returned to the estate, staffers rushing to get them inside and close the gates. Hyperventilating in the main hall, Gao witnessed Master Cheung reaching into the foyer table drawer. "Take my grandson to his room, lock the door," Master Cheung instructed his henchmen, ignoring Gao's protests.

Approaching Master Cheung, the butler said, "Sir," lifting his arm to steady the ailing old man after the close call at the shipyard. "Get Peng on the phone, and return my grandson now," Master Cheung ordered with fiery determination, escorted back into the sitting room. The entire estate, on lockdown after losing the alliance with the Italians due to a betrayal, was now a fortress. Master Cheung trusted no one, not even his own flesh and blood. "Right away, sir," the butler confirmed, leaving to carry out orders on his master's behalf.

Inside the locked bedroom, Gao paced back and forth, pulling out his phone. Texts from Lien and a missed call made him hesitate. "Christ, what the hell am I supposed to do?" Gao mumbled, sitting on his bed, holding the phone in his hand, contemplating. Despite feeling guilty for influencing Lien, he never expected his younger brother to venture willingly into the enemy nest. He wouldn't call Lien, knowing his grandfather's intense paranoia and history of eliminating perceived threats. Instead, Gao dialed a private number, letting it ring as he tapped his foot on the hardwood ground, biting at the inside of his mouth.

"Gao?" A woman's voice came through the other end of the call. He waited before speaking, seemingly building up the courage to do so. "We have a problem," he managed to utter, beginning to whisper. "What kind of problem?" The voice responded, unimpressed. Standing up again, Gao went to the closet, taking out clothes haphazardly. "The Italians are the problem. They tried to kill me and grandfather at the shipyard today," Gao's hands became increasingly sweaty. "And he believes there's an informant in the Triad." He held the phone tightly to his ear, his breath unsteady.

"Hana, he thinks I'm the traitor."