★★Leon's POV★★



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The weight of the day sat heavy on my shoulders as I leaned back in my chair, the dim glow of my desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. Papers were spread out in front of me, contracts needing signatures, deals that needed closing. The usual.

I exhaled sharply, rubbing my jaw before grabbing the pen and signing off the last document. Just as I tossed the pen onto the desk, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen.

Robert. Right on time.

I picked up. "Parler (Talk)."

"Everything's in place," Robert's voice came through, steady and sure. "Tonight's event is locked down—high security, all attendees vetted, and every important man worth a damn will be there. It's exclusive, invite-only. No surprises."

I leaned forward, my fingers tapping against the wood of my desk. "And?"

Robert didn't hesitate. "Niko Zervos took the bait."

That got my full attention.

I smirked, rolling my shoulders as a slow wave of satisfaction crept up my spine. "Good. That slimy bastard really thinks he belongs in a room full of men who actually matter."

Robert chuckled darkly. "Arrogance makes men reckless. He wants in, wants to be seen as more than the thug he is. And that's what'll get him caught."

I reached for the glass of whiskey beside me, taking a slow sip. The burn down my throat was nothing compared to the fire of anticipation building inside me. "What's the setup?"

"Zervos will be at the high-rollers table, mingling, drinking, showing off. The second he's comfortable, we move. We have eyes everywhere—he won't see it coming. By the end of the night, he'll be ours."

I smirked, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. "Let's make sure of that, Robert. I want no loose ends. No fuck-ups."

There was a pause. "We won't fail." His tone was firm, no hesitation.

I liked that about Robert—he never made promises he couldn't keep.

"Good." I stood, looking out the floor-to-ceiling window of my office, the city lights sprawling beneath me. "By the time the sun rises, Niko Zervos will wish he never stepped foot in my world."

Robert exhaled a short laugh. "Je te verrai au casino (I'll see you at the casino)."

The call ended.

I rolled my neck, a slow, satisfied smirk playing at my lips.

Tonight, Niko Zervos would learn the hard way—when you play in a world of kings, pawns don't make it out alive.

I walk down the hall toward the basement, the sound of fists hitting flesh echoing through the walls. Antonino and Damien are sparring—good. It helps them stay sharp, but honestly, they enjoy the brutality of it too much sometimes.

As I step into the room, I watch for a moment, feeling the tension build in the air. Antonino takes a hit to his torso and grunts, but then, with a quick twist of his body, he swings back and catches Damien across the jaw. The force makes Damien stagger, but he's quick to recover. They both keep swinging, their bodies moving in a primal rhythm, each punch an attempt to dominate the other.

I chuckle, leaning against the doorframe. "Don't stop on my account," I say, making sure my voice carries enough to get their attention.

They both freeze mid-motion, glaring at me with that mix of respect and annoyance that's become the norm around here. Antonino, always the more vocal one, is the first to drop his gloves and step out of the ring. "Everything settled?" he asks, wiping his forehead.

I nod, stepping closer, my hands tucked into the pockets of my jeans. "Mhm," I respond, letting the words linger, calm and controlled.

Damien grunts in response, still breathing heavily. He strips off his gloves and looks over at Antonino. "What's the plan? You still want to get your hands dirty with Niko?"

Antonino's eyes light up at the thought, the idea of torturing Niko making him practically salivate. He chuckles, his face twisted with a mixture of excitement and malice. "Finally," he mutters, shaking his head as if he's already imagining it. "I've been dreaming of torturing that bastard for weeks."

I smirk, letting the anticipation of what's coming settle into my bones. "Shower. Get ready. Make sure the outfits fit the part."

Without another word, they nod and head for the stairs. I linger for a moment, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. I can feel the pressure mounting. I've been working on this for a week—no, longer—and everything hinges on tonight.

I make my way upstairs, my thoughts already racing. I need to keep my head in the game, focus on the task at hand.

When I reach the bathroom, I lock the door behind me, the cool tile against my skin like a reminder that I'm not here for pleasure. Not tonight.

I step under the cold water, leaning both hands on the shower wall as it cascades down over me. It helps to calm the nerves, to ground myself. The cold is sharp against my skin, biting at me like a warning, but it sharpens my focus. I don't have time for distractions.

But damn, there's a weight in my chest, a pressure in my gut that won't go away. I've been waiting for this moment for so long, and now it's finally here. Everything has to go right. Failure is not an option.

The adrenaline spikes, my heart rate quickening as I step out of the shower, my mind already turning. I grab a towel, drying off quickly before dressing in my Armani dark navy blue suit. It fits me like a second skin, a perfect balance of power and elegance.

I reload my gun, making sure the bullets are intact, slipping the magazine in with practiced ease. My mind flickers to the plan ahead, calculating every step. I strap two more guns to my shoulder holsters, the weight comforting in a twisted way.

I move with efficiency, pulling my tie on, tightening it just the way I like it. Every action is deliberate, every motion a part of the preparation. It feels almost ritualistic—the calm before the storm.

I couldn't help but chuckle as Antonio and Damien bickered over how a tie works. Honestly, I was starting to think they were trying to outdo each other with their stupidity. I sauntered over, pulling the tie ends from their hands with a slight smirk, like I was dealing with toddlers who couldn't get their shoes on.

"Alright, listen up," I said, tying the first one around Antonio's neck with exaggerated patience.

"Cross this over... pull it through... tighten it like your life depends on it. But not too tight, you're not choking him. Got it?"

They shot me annoyed glares, but I wasn't in the mood for their egos. "Come on, you're both big boys," I continued, wrapping the tie neatly around Damien's neck. "You want to look presentable, or do you want to give Niko the satisfaction of thinking you've got no clue what you're doing?"

Their eyes narrowed, but they stayed quiet as I finished up. They hated being talked to like this, but they knew damn well I was right.

Both were sharp, but they had their pride.

Once they were sorted, I motioned for them to follow me toward the driveway, where my men were already in position—dressed as servers, but their eyes were cold, trained, calculating. Marco, sharp as ever, approached me with a calm, confident step and handed me three earpieces. I passed one to Antonio and Damien, making sure they understood how important this was. The air was thick with anticipation.

"Restez vigilant, (Stay sharp)," I said quietly, as Marco's eyes locked onto mine. "Eyes peeled. If anything seems off, don't hesitate to report it. I need to know where Niko goes, what he does. Every move. I can't afford distractions tonight."

They nodded in unison, their focus shifting to the task at hand. Even Antonio and Damien had no room for arrogance right now—they knew the stakes.

I turned toward the black SUVs lined up, the engines idling, waiting. As I slid into the back of one, the tension in the air thickened. My men were already in place, a few steps behind, waiting to ensure everything went smoothly.

No loose ends.

We pulled away from the driveway, heading toward the casino. My mind raced with calculations. Every detail mattered. Niko might think this is just a casual meeting, but I wasn't walking into this without knowing exactly what he was doing, where he was going. Every move would be watched, tracked, reported.

"Stay on alert," I muttered to Antonio and Damien. "We're about to find out if Niko's as slick as he thinks he is."

As the black SUVs rolled to a stop in front of the casino, my men dispersed swiftly, splitting into groups to cover the area. A couple of them took the back exit to check the premises, ensuring there was no surprise waiting for us. The rest, including Damien, Antonio, and I, stayed close, moving towards the grand entrance. The casino in front of us glistened like a jewel under the night sky. Neon lights blazed, casting vibrant hues across the darkened streets. The fountains in the lake shot up, synchronized with the beat of the music inside, creating an almost surreal atmosphere, like something out of a dream—but I wasn't here for dreams.

I did a quick check on my earpiece, tapping it to make sure the connection was clear. A crisp voice confirmed on the other end, "Haut et fort, patron (Loud and clear, boss)."

The valet immediately noticed me as I approached, recognizing the presence of my crew, and with a subtle nod, he knew what was about to unfold. He didn't need to ask any questions. We stepped out of the SUV, the soft murmur of conversations and laughter from inside swirling around us. The men and women entering were dressed to the nines, the kind of people who wouldn't hesitate to bet their lives on a game. I scanned the crowd as we walked toward the entrance, noting the familiar faces and occasional nods from people I'd done business with before. The air smelled of luxury, money, and the faint scent of tension, like a good card game waiting to begin.

As we entered, the clinking of glasses and the occasional groan of someone losing big drifted toward us. The mood was a mixture of euphoric highs and bitter lows, a perfect backdrop for what we were about to do. We made our way to a reserved table by the blackjack section, the dealers in their crisp uniforms and the casino staff flitting around. I sat down, my back straight, scanning the place again. It all seemed in order, but nothing ever was until I confirmed it with my own eyes.

I leaned in slightly, speaking in a low tone into the earpiece. "Tout le monde en place ? (Everyone in place?)"

A chorus of confirmations came through, a quiet but resolute "Oui, patron (Yes, boss)," from my crew, ensuring the perimeter was locked down.

A server came up, her eyes briefly flicking over us before putting on a professional smile. "Good evening. What can I get started for you, gentlemen?" she asked.

Antonio didn't even look at the menu. "Three Old Fashioneds, neat," he said, his voice smooth but steady.

"Sounds good," she replied, before turning on her heel to leave.

Damien and Antonio settled into their chairs, their eyes scanning the room. I leaned back in mine, my gaze still moving over the crowd.

Where the hell is Niko?

Damien must've noticed my restlessness because his voice came through my earpiece. "Des nouvelles de la cible ?(Any updates on the target?)"

One of my men responded quickly, his voice calm but tense. " Négatif. Scan des lieux (Negative. Scanning the premises)."

I sighed, annoyed, letting my eyes linger on the door for a moment longer. "This shit better not turn into a ghost chase."

Damien, always the optimist, smirked slightly. "Relax, brother. He'll show. He doesn't have a choice."

Antonio chimed in, his usual confidence still unwavering. "He accepted the invite. He'll be here. Trust that."

I shot them both a look, my eyes narrowing. "Il va mieux, putain.(He fucking better,)" I muttered, my frustration simmering. This wasn't just some casual meet-up. This was a message. Niko was about to learn just how much pressure could be applied when you think you're untouchable.

Damien leaned forward, his voice taking on a softer, more assuring tone. "Listen, it's Niko. He thrives on the attention, on control. He'll come, but only when he thinks it's safe to walk in. He likes the drama. Let him think he has the upper hand for a minute. You'll get your moment."

I stared ahead, unwilling to look away, as the minutes dragged on. Every second of delay felt like a weight on my chest. "He better be ready for the storm when he does," I muttered, already planning my next move.

Antonio gave me a knowing look. "He will be. And so will we."

The Old Fashioneds arrived, the amber liquid swirling in the glasses before being set down in front of us. I brought mine to my lips, the sharp burn of the alcohol crawling down my throat, settling deep into my chest. It was a familiar sensation—the kind that calms the nerves before the storm, and right now, I needed it.

The moment I set the glass back down, the voice in my earpiece sent a jolt through me. "Target entering the premises."

Damien, Antonio, and I immediately straightened, every muscle in our bodies tensing in unison. Our eyes locked, scanning the entrance, tracking every movement. The moment had arrived. I could feel the shift in the air, that invisible tension thickening as we waited for Niko to make his appearance.

Another voice crackled in my ear, sharper this time. "He has company."

I narrowed my eyes, a surge of curiosity cutting through the fog of annoyance. Company? Who the hell was he bringing? My patience was thin, and this wasn't supposed to be a social gathering.

And then, as if the universe was mocking me, I saw her.

Mariella.

No fucking way.

She was walking in, her presence practically lighting up the whole damn room. It didn't matter how many beautiful people were inside this casino. She was the only one who mattered. The only one who could make everything feel like it was spinning out of control.

Her body was the definition of sin wrapped in glitter. The tight strapless dress hugged every curve, shimmering with a gold sheen that caught the light just right, the kind of dress that left little to the imagination. The fabric was almost see-through around her legs, exposing just enough to make every goddamn eye follow her. Her brown cinnamon hair fell in long, straight waves down her back, and I couldn't even process how her beauty seemed to radiate from her very soul.

But what really twisted my gut was the sight of her arm locked with Niko's. I felt the blood drain from my face, my eyes narrowing to a dangerous glint as I watched them walk in, her smile so fake I almost gagged. She had that look on her face—the one she saved for the likes of him. That mask she wore to deceive, to play her role.

I knew it, and I hated it.

Antonio and Damien looked at each other and then at me, the realization dawning. "Is that... Mariella?" they asked in unison, their voices a mix of surprise and disbelief.

I gritted my teeth.

Why the hell would she show up now?

But as much as I wanted to yell at her for being here, to rip that damn smile off her face and throw her out, I couldn't deny how fucking breathtaking she looked. The sight of her, so stunning, so powerful in her presence, sent an electric jolt through me. My body tensed, all the nerves in my system going taut. And my cock, against all reason, responded. I shifted in my seat, but the irritation only grew as I tried to adjust. The burn in my chest wasn't just from the whiskey anymore—it was something else.

But then it hit me.

Niko had his arm around her. He had his hands on what was mine. The possessiveness surged in me like a tidal wave. My mind was already calculating, already thinking about how I'd end this. I couldn't let Niko think he could get away with touching her, not when she was mine.

All mine.

Niko looked smug, that self-satisfied smirk plastered across his face, greeting the people around him like he owned the place. He wasn't just here to gamble. He was here to show off, to flaunt his so-called 'success,' and somehow, he thought he had won.

But the second he walked into this casino, his fate was sealed. And the moment his eyes met mine, I would end it all with one clean shot. Bullet through the skull.

He wouldn't see it coming.

Damien leaned in, his voice low with genuine curiosity. "Brother, what the hell is Mariella doing with Niko? Why would she agree to come out with him of all people?" His eyes flicked between me and the pair, clearly baffled by the sight of them together. "She's not exactly the type to play nice with him... what's going on here?"

I barely suppressed a growl, the questions swirling in my mind like a storm. What was she playing at? Why the hell would she even be here with him? My eyes never left her as I leaned back in my chair, keeping my tone as controlled as possible. "Whatever game she's playing, it's one I'm not interested in. But she'll realize soon enough—Niko's not someone she can afford to get tangled up with."

Damien leaned in, his voice quiet but serious. "Brother, you knew they were seeing each other, right? But this—here? I didn't expect her to go public like this."

I held his gaze, feeling a coldness settle over me. "Yeah, I knew about the dates. Didn't think she'd make it this obvious, though. Not with him, not like this."

Damien raised an eyebrow. "She's got her reasons, but still, seems... off. She usually keeps things under the radar. Why bring it out in the open now?"

I clenched my jaw, frustration flickering beneath the surface. "I don't know. But if she's trying to send a message, she's doing it the wrong way. Niko's not someone she can afford to make public claims with. It'll only backfire."

Antonio spoke up from across the table, his tone casual but carrying an edge. "Niko thinks he's in control. But he doesn't know what he's dealing with. If she's playing him, it's a dangerous game."

I shot him a quick look, then turned back to the pair, my gaze steady. "Whatever her game is, she'll figure out soon enough who holds the real power here."

Damien nodded slowly, not missing a beat. "We'll let her play it out. But if it turns sour, we'll handle it."

I didn't answer right away, just watching them. The tension in my chest was thick, but I knew there was nothing to do for now except wait.

Mariella moved through the crowd with practiced ease, a polite smile on her lips as she greeted familiar faces. But I knew her well enough to recognize the flicker of impatience beneath it. She wasn't here for them—she was here for something else. And when Niko turned away for a moment, she finally let herself scan the room.

Then she sees me.

Her eyes widened, a flash of confusion and something else crossing her face. Baffled. Like she couldn't believe I was standing here, watching her. I smirked. I always managed to get that kind of reaction out of her. She quickly looked away, but it took her only a second before she glanced back, as if making sure I was real.

I winked.

Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red, and I chuckled softly, amused. No matter how composed she tried to be, her body always betrayed her when it came to me.

Then, just as quickly, Niko reappeared at her side, linking his arm with hers like he had some kind of claim over her. My jaw tightened as he leaned in, whispering something in her ear. But her eyes—her eyes never left mine. Even as Niko led her toward my table, she stayed locked on me, like she was trying to read me, trying to figure out why the hell I was here.

It took Niko a few more steps before he finally noticed me. His expression shifted instantly, a flicker of something passing through his eyes before he forced that smug, practiced smile onto his face. "Leon. What a surprise," he said, extending his hand like we were old friends. "Didn't know you'd be here tonight."

I stared at his hand, then took a slow sip of my drink, savoring the burn before shifting my gaze to Mariella. Her expression was unreadable, but the way her flushed cheeks betrayed her told me everything I needed to know.

She was affected.

I let my smirk grow as I finally turned my attention back to Niko. "Niko," I said, my voice smooth, controlled. "What a coincidence." I reached out and took his hand, gripping it just a little harder than necessary. "Good to see you."

His jaw flexed, and I felt him tighten his grip in return, his eyes narrowing.

We held the handshake longer than necessary—two men in a silent standoff, neither willing to be the first to let go.

Then Mariella cleared her throat, cutting through the tension. "Nice to see you, Laurent," she said, her voice steady, but her body told a different story.

I immediately released Niko's hand, turning my full attention to her. She extended hers toward me, and I took it without hesitation. Her skin was warm, impossibly soft, and the moment our hands connected, something sharp and electric jolted through me.

I smirked, letting my fingers trail over hers before I turned her hand over, bringing it up to my lips.

She inhales sharply.

My lips brushed lightly over her skin, slow and deliberate, never breaking eye contact. I felt the way she shivered—so subtle, so brief, but it was there. She tensed, her pulse fluttering beneath my touch.

"You look... dangerous tonight," I murmured, my voice just low enough for her to hear. "Gorgeous, of course. But trouble, nonetheless."

Her lips parted slightly, and for a split second, I saw her fight the urge to smirk. Instead, she rolled her eyes and pulled her hand back, trying to compose herself.

Before I could press her further, Niko's voice cut through the moment, irritation laced beneath his words. "Do you mind if we join your table?"

I barely spared him a glance, my focus still on Mariella. She was still watching me, still reading me.

I smiled, leaning back in my chair. "We have a few extra seats," I said smoothly, gesturing toward Damien and Antonio.

Damien exchanged a glance with Antonio before smirking slightly, knowing damn well this was about to get interesting.

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SHIT IS ABOUT TO GO DOWN

Bye, lovies! (っ◔◡◔)っ

Maddie♡

*Mariella's Outfit*