"How could you have done that?" The man cried out, his voice cracking with emotion.

Tears streamed down his face, a mixture of anger and heartbreak evident in his eyes, each drop reflecting the depth of his betrayal.

The other man, standing across from him with an air of indifference, shrugged nonchalantly.

His expression was cold, his eyes devoid of any remorse or empathy.

"Don't overreact. I just did business with you. It was foolish of you to be deceived like that," he said, his tone as icy as his demeanor.

The first man clenched his fists, his body trembling with a mix of rage and despair.

Every muscle in his body was taut with the strain of his emotions.

"I had thought of you not just as a friend, but as a family member!"

His voice wavered, heavy with the weight of his anguish.

The other man sneered, dismissing his words with a wave of his hand, the gesture as dismissive as his tone.

"That was your fault. You were naive. Now get out of my house," he said, turning his back to his former friend.

The man's face contorted with pain, his features twisted by the intensity of his feelings.

"After everything we went through together, all the times I stood by you... how could you be so heartless?"

His voice was thick with sorrow, each word a plea for understanding that would never come.

The second man turned away, his back a wall of indifference to the one he had betrayed.

"This is just business. Sentiment has no place here," he said, his voice a cold, unfeeling monotone.

The first man took a step forward, desperation lacing his every movement, his voice trembling with the urgency of his plea.

"You ruined my life. You destroyed everything I worked for. How can you live with yourself?"

The man looked over his shoulder, his expression hard, his eyes like chips of ice.

"Easily. Now leave before I call security," he said, his tone final and unyielding.

The words hung in the air, a final, brutal severing of what once was a bond.

"No, wait. Please help me," the man begged, desperation etched in every line of his face, his voice a desperate plea in the face of betrayal.

"I can't help you," the other man replied, his voice flat and unyielding.

Each word a dagger plunging into the depths of their shattered friendship.

"Please, think of our friendship," the man pleaded, his hands folded together in a gesture of supplication, tears welling in his eyes.

His voice trembled with emotion, a stark contrast to the cold indifference of the man before him.

The other man let out a sigh, irritation clear in his expression, his patience wearing thin under the weight of the other's pleas.

"You really won't leave like this, will you?" he muttered, his tone laced with disdain as he turned towards the hallway.

"Guards!" he shouted, his command echoing through the room with an air of finality.

At his command, two guards swiftly entered the room, their presence imposing and authoritative, their faces devoid of sympathy or compassion.

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"Take him away," the man commanded, waving dismissively, his gesture a cruel dismissal of their shared past.

The guards moved to follow orders, each gripping one of the man's arms with a force that left bruises in their wake, their obedience unwavering in the face of their master's will.

"No, please! Just listen to me!" the man cried out, his voice breaking as he struggled against their hold, his futile attempts at resistance met with nothing but the cold, unyielding grip of their grasp.

But before they could pull him away, he seized a fleeting moment of desperation, his trembling hand reaching out to grasp the other man's in a desperate plea for mercy.

"Please. Just this—!" he began, his words cut off as the other man flung his hand away with a violent jerk, his face twisted in disgust as if he had touched something vile and repulsive.

"How dirty! Don't touch me," he spat, his words a venomous condemnation of their shared history, each syllable a betrayal of the friendship that had once bound them together.

The pleading man's face crumpled at the rejection, his heart breaking at the realization that the man he considered his best friend would betray him without hesitation for the sake of business.

In his wildest dreams, he never imagined he would be treated as if he were untouchable, his worth reduced to nothing more than a pawn in a game of greed and ambition.

Tears streamed down the man's face, his spirit broken by the callousness of the betrayal, his trust shattered beyond repair.

He looked at his former friend one last time, searching for a hint of remorse or regret in the cold, indifferent eyes that stared back at him, but found none.

The bond that once held them together lay in ruins, a casualty of the merciless pursuit of power and wealth, leaving behind nothing but the bitter taste of betrayal and the hollow echo of what once was.

The guards began to pull him away, their grip firm and unyielding, and this time, he didn't resist.

His pleas turned to sobs, echoing through the opulent hallway as he was dragged out of the house, each step a painful reminder of the shattered trust and broken promises that lay in their wake.

"Please leave. We don't want to use any kind of force," the guard said, his voice tinged with pity as he halted their relentless march, his own humanity surfacing in the face of the man's anguish.

"Okay," the man said, his voice hollow and defeated, his spirit crushed under the weight of his betrayal.

He turned to leave, his shoulders slumped, the weight of his despair heavy on his back, each step a struggle against the suffocating grip of his emotions.

But as he reached the doorway, he froze, his breath catching in his throat as he saw his young son, Noel, standing there, peeking through the opened gate.

He had told Noel to wait outside, never expecting his child to witness such a humiliating scene, his heart breaking at the thought of his innocence shattered by the harsh reality of betrayal.

Noel's eyes were wide with confusion and hurt, the innocence of his youth tarnished by the sight of his father's despair.

The man's heart ached as he saw the pain reflected in his son's eyes, a mirror of his own suffering, each tear a silent testament to the depth of their shared anguish.

"Let's go, son," he said, his voice trembling with the effort to maintain a façade of strength, his heart breaking with each forced word.

He placed a trembling hand on Noel's shoulder, guiding him away from the villa, their footsteps heavy with the weight of their collective sorrow.

As they walked, the man's mind swirled with thoughts of lost friendship and the harsh reality of betrayal, each memory a dagger piercing his already wounded heart.

Noel glanced back at the grand villa, now a symbol of their downfall, its imposing facade a stark reminder of the price they had paid for their misplaced trust.

"Are you fine, Dad?" the boy asked, his small voice trembling with concern, his eyes searching his father's face for any sign of reassurance.

"Yes. I'm fine, son. Don't worry," the man replied, forcing a smile that felt brittle and fragile, a feeble attempt to shield his son from the turmoil raging within his own heart.

But it was a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, a mask to hide the storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface, each word spoken with the weight of his sorrow.

"But Dad, that man..." the little boy's voice trailed off, unable to find the words to express the confusion and hurt he felt, the innocence of his youth unable to comprehend the depth of betrayal.

"It's okay, son. Sometimes things like this happen," the man said, his voice gentle yet firm, each syllable heavy with the weight of his own disappointment and disillusionment.

He tried to keep his tone light, but the weight of betrayal hung heavy in the air, a palpable reminder of the shattered trust that lay between them.

The boy didn't say anything more, his young eyes seeming to see through the façade his father wore, his gaze filled with an understanding far beyond his years.

He saw the pain, the disappointment, and the sorrow that lay beneath the surface, a silent witness to his father's silent struggle.

"Don't tell anything about this to your mother, okay?" the man added, his voice softer now, almost pleading, his heart heavy with the burden of his own fears and uncertainties.

He didn't want his wife to worry, didn't want to add to her burdens with the weight of his own pain.

"Okay," the boy agreed, his voice a quiet promise, his eyes reflecting the solemnity of their shared secret, a bond forged in the crucible of betrayal and loss.

He looked up at his father, seeing him not just as the strong figure he had always admired, but as a man struggling with his own fears and uncertainties, a man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, even as he tried to shield his son from its harsh realities.

"Good. Oh, there's a stall. What do you want to eat? Tell me," the man asked, his voice strained with the effort to infuse some semblance of cheer into his tone, to offer his son a brief respite from the heaviness that weighed upon them both.

"No, Dad. It's okay. I don't want to eat anything," the boy replied quietly, his words a reflection of the maturity that belied his tender years, a willingness to forgo his own desires in the face of their harsh reality.

Hearing his son's selfless words, the man felt a pang of helplessness wash over him, a sense of inadequacy that gnawed at his soul.

He longed to provide for his son, to indulge him in the simple pleasures of childhood, but even his young boy understood the gravity of their situation, choosing to be mature when he should have the freedom to be carefree.

He felt utterly pathetic, his heart heavy with the burden of his own inadequacy, his shoulders weighed down by the responsibilities he could scarcely bear.

Bending down to his knees to reach his son's height, he looked into Noel's eyes, which reflected a mixture of understanding and innocence far beyond his years, a poignant reminder of the sacrifices they both had to make in the name of survival.

"Don't worry, Noel. Everything will be fine one day," he said, his voice gentle but filled with an undercurrent of desperation, his words a feeble attempt to reassure both his son and himself, to cling to the hope that their fortunes would change, that the darkness that enveloped them would one day give way to the light.

Noel nodded, his small hand reaching up to touch his father's cheek, a gesture of comfort and solidarity that spoke volumes in its simplicity.

"I believe you, Dad," he said softly, his voice a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatened to engulf them, his faith unwavering in the face of adversity.

The man's heart ached with a mix of pride and sorrow, a swell of emotions threatening to overwhelm him as he looked upon his son, a beacon of resilience and hope in a world filled with uncertainty and despair.

All he could do was pray that his son would find happiness, that he would grow up to have a life free of the burdens that weighed so heavily on them now, that their sacrifices would not be in vain.

They stood there for a moment, a father and son united in their struggle, drawing strength from each other as they faced the challenges that lay ahead.

The night air was cool, and the lights of the food stall flickered invitingly, but they turned away, heading home with the fragile hope that someday, their hardships would be behind them, and they could once again bask in the warmth of the sun.