★★Leon's POV★★



✧✧✧✧✧✧

The air inside the private lounge is thick with cigar smoke, the scent of whiskey and expensive cologne settling in the dim lighting. A chandelier casts a dull glow over the massive table where Antonino, Damine, and a few of my men sit, waiting.

Across from us, Viktor Petrov takes his seat—a hulking, scarred Russian who serves as Niko's enforcer and top muscle in Eastern Europe. He's got a reputation for being brutal, efficient, and loyal—but loyalty only lasts as long as the money does. And tonight, I'm here to prove that Niko can't protect what's his.

Viktor leans back in his chair, his cold blue eyes sweeping over me before he speaks in his thick accent. "I was told this meeting would be... beneficial. But I see no benefits yet." His voice is measured, indifferent. He's testing me.

I smirk, swirling the glass of whiskey in my hand, watching him over the rim. "That's because you're used to dealing with men who beg for your business, Viktor. I don't beg." I set the glass down, leaning forward just enough to make my presence impossible to ignore. "I take."

Damine chuckles, Antonino smirks, but Viktor doesn't react—not yet. He exhales a slow stream of smoke, his expression unreadable. "You think you can take from Niko?" His tone is amused, but there's an edge to it.

I keep my gaze locked onto his. "I don't think, Viktor. I know."

Silence. The kind that makes weaker men shift in their seats. But Viktor? He stays still, waiting. He's not a fool—he knows something is coming.

I push a folder across the table toward him. "Go ahead. Take a look."

Viktor eyes me before flipping it open. The moment he does, I see the exact second his confidence cracks. His brow furrows, fingers tightening against the pages. Inside that folder are bank statements, wire transfers, and offshore accounts—proof that Niko's been skimming money off the top, not just from his men but from Viktor himself.

I give him a moment to process the betrayal before I lean back, stretching my arms over the chair. "You work your ass off for that bastard, and what do you get in return? A fucking pay cut."

Viktor says nothing, but the tension in his jaw is telling. He flips through the pages again, slower this time.

"Here's the reality," I continue, voice calm, measured. "Niko is bleeding. His allies are dropping, his shipments are getting intercepted, and now, you find out he's been pocketing your share." I shrug. "He's slipping, Viktor. And slipping men get put down."

His eyes snap up to mine, something dangerous flashing behind them. "You think I betray him, just like that?"

I chuckle, shaking my head. "No, I think you're smart enough to know when to get the hell out before the ship sinks." I lean forward again, lowering my voice. "You want security? Power? Money? I can give you all three. What can Niko give you?" I let the question sit in the air.

Viktor stays silent for a moment before he scoffs, tossing the folder onto the table. "And if I say no?"

Damine grins, shaking his head like Viktor just asked something stupid. Antonino, lounging in his seat, exhales a low whistle.

I tilt my head, letting a slow smile creep onto my lips. "Then you'll be dead in a week."

Viktor's face hardens.

"Niko will find out about this meeting," I continue, voice smooth, controlled. "And when he does, he'll question your loyalty. Then? He'll gut you like a fucking pig before you even have a chance to run."

I take a sip of my whiskey, enjoying the way Viktor's fingers twitch. He knows I'm right.

"But..." I drag the word out, letting him grasp at the alternative. "You work with me? You keep your operation, your men, and your money. You don't just survive, Viktor. You thrive."

The room is suffocating with tension. Viktor glares at me, his mind working, weighing his options.

Then he exhales, leaning back in his chair. "You are a bastard, Leon."

I smirk. "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me today."

He runs a hand through his beard before shaking his head. "And if I agree?"

I place another folder on the table—this one with a contract, a deal that would officially cut him from Niko's operations and bring him under mine. "Then you sign, and Niko loses another piece of his empire."

Viktor looks at the contract, then at me. Slowly, he picks up the pen.

And just like that, Niko's strongest enforcer is no longer his.

I watch as Viktor signs his name, the ink drying like the final nail in Niko's coffin.

Antonino grins. "Well, that was easy."

I chuckle, taking the contract back. "No, that was the beginning."

Because soon, Niko won't just be bleeding.

He'll be drowning.

****

The hum of my private jet fills the cabin, steady and uninterrupted. The world outside is nothing but dark skies and city lights bleeding into the horizon. I take a slow sip of whiskey, savoring the burn as I glance at the time. Almost there.

I pull out my phone and dial. Lili answers on the first ring.

"Boss," she greets, professional as ever, though I can hear the anticipation in her tone.

"It's happening," I say, tapping my glass against the armrest. "In a matter of weeks, Niko and his father will be running for cover."

She exhales, amused. "That's what I like to hear." A pause. "You want me to start planting the rumors?"

"Start tonight. Let whispers slip about missing shipments, fluctuating funds, and internal instability. Make his allies uncomfortable."

She hums in approval. "And Otto?"

"He'll either switch sides or be buried next to Niko when this is done."

She chuckles. "You always make it sound so simple."

"Because it is." I glance at the ice melting in my drink. "By the time I'm done, Niko won't have a single man he can trust."

Before she can respond, another call comes through. Arthur. My assistant. I switch over without hesitation.

"Arthur."

"Sir," he replies smoothly. "Everything is in place for your meeting with the German syndicate. They'll be waiting at the agreed location."

"They know my terms?"

A brief pause. Then a quiet chuckle. "They understand what's at stake."

"Good." I lean forward, placing my empty glass on the table. "Update me on Prague."

"Niko's men are losing patience. Without Otto's encryption services, their accounts are starting to show vulnerabilities. And since their shipments aren't moving on schedule, certain buyers are looking for alternative suppliers."

I smirk. "Perfect."

"Otto will be expecting a business discussion," Arthur adds. "Shall I let him believe that, or...?"

"Let him think he has a choice," I murmur. "Then show him he doesn't."

Arthur exhales a quiet breath. "Understood, sir."

I hang up, staring out the window as the jet begins its descent.

Niko has no idea what's coming. His empire is cracking. His people are slipping through his fingers.

And by the time he realizes it, he won't have a way out.

****

The Berlin skyline glows in the distance, neon lights reflecting off rain-slicked streets. Otto Schneider's penthouse sits at the top of a luxury high-rise, secured with more firewalls and encryptions than most intelligence agencies. It takes my men two hours to crack through his perimeter, but by the time I step out of the elevator, Otto already knows I'm here.

The door to his office is unlocked. A sign of arrogance. Or stupidity.

I walk in, taking in the sleek, modern setup—massive monitors lining the walls, data streaming across screens at a speed too fast for the average eye to process. Otto sits in his chair, legs crossed, sipping from a glass of scotch. His blond hair is slicked back, thin-framed glasses perched on his nose. He doesn't look surprised. If anything, he looks fucking bored.

"Leon," he greets, swirling his drink. "I was wondering when you'd finally come knocking."

I smirk, taking a seat across from him. "Good. That means we can skip the small talk."

He leans back, chuckling. "You're here for business, then? Or something more... permanent?"

I tilt my head. "That depends on you, Otto."

He sighs like this is an inconvenience, setting his glass down. "I assume you want me to abandon Niko."

I don't answer right away. Instead, I reach into my pocket, pull out a USB, and place it on the table between us. "Take a look."

Otto eyes the drive warily before grabbing it. He plugs it into one of his monitors, and within seconds, his entire setup floods with information—bank transactions, offshore accounts, encrypted messages, all traced back to him.

His face pales. "What the hell is this?"

I lean forward. "This, Otto, is every crime you've committed in the last ten years. Money laundering, identity theft, cyber fraud. Enough to have every intelligence agency in Europe hunting you down like a rabid dog."

His fingers twitch on the keyboard. I watch him fight the urge to start hacking his way out of this mess.

"Now," I continue, voice smooth as silk, "I could send all of this to the authorities with the push of a button. In fact, I've already arranged for multiple news outlets to receive anonymous leaks—just in case something unfortunate happens to me tonight."

Otto swallows hard, his hands clenching into fists. "You son of a—"

I cut him off. "But I'm a reasonable man, Otto. And I'm offering you a choice."

He exhales sharply through his nose, forcing composure. "What kind of choice?"

I smirk. "Join me. Work for me. Do exactly what you did for Niko—encrypt finances, secure transactions, keep my empire untouchable. Except this time, you'll be working for someone who actually values your skills." I tilt my head. "Or, you can stay loyal to Niko and end up either rotting in a prison cell or in the ground right next to him."

Otto's jaw tightens, his mind racing. I can see it in his eyes—he's weighing his options, calculating risk.

Then I push just a little harder. "Oh, and one more thing," I add, voice darkening. "Your crew? The ones helping you run your little side operations?" I nod toward Antonino and Damine, who are standing near the door, watching like wolves circling prey. "They work for me now. And if you don't accept my offer, well... I'll have to make an example out of someone."

Otto stiffens, eyes darting between me and my men.

I give him a cold smile. "Tick-tock, Otto."

For a long moment, he just sits there, breathing heavily, the reality of his situation sinking in. Then, slowly, he reaches for the USB, unplugs it, and slides it back to me.

"Fine," he mutters. "I'll work for you."

I grin. "Good decision."

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. "You really are a bastard, you know that?"

I chuckle, standing up. "I get that a lot."

As I turn to leave, I glance back at him. "Oh, and Otto?"

He looks up.

"If you ever think about betraying me, just remember—Niko stole from his own men." I smirk. "I don't steal. I just kill."

Otto swallows hard, nodding stiffly.

And just like that, Niko's entire cyber network is mine.

***

I crack my neck, rolling out the tension from a full day of travel, meetings, and making men bend to my will. One city after another, deal after deal, and yet, there's still work to be done.

We're finally back home—if you can call it that. The safehouse is dimly lit, the scent of whiskey and gun oil thick in the air. Antonino sits across from me, eyes glued to his laptop, fingers flying over the keyboard. Damien, on the other hand, is sifting through today's reports, his brows furrowed as he scans over the numbers.

Antonino keeps his eyes on the screen, fingers tapping away as he says, "There's a gala tomorrow. We're expected to attend—whether we like it or not."

I groan, rubbing my temples. "I don't have time for overpriced champagne and fake smiles. We have bigger priorities." I scrawl my signature across another document and toss the pen aside.

Damien sets his file down with a sigh. "It's not for the fucking hors d'oeuvres, brother. The Argentine mafia will be in attendance." His voice drops just enough to catch my interest. "One of Niko's biggest drug shipment partners."

I exhale sharply, fingers drumming against the desk. Another piece of Niko's crumbling empire that needs handling. Irritation simmers beneath the surface, but I nod, resigned. "Alright then,"

Damien smirks like he just won a bet, but I don't give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, I shift gears, my tone firm. "After the gala, we're meeting with Elena. No delays."

His smirk vanishes. "Right. Her." His voice is flat, unamused.

I lean back, my lips twitching. "Yes, brother. Her."

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, and I can't help but chuckle. Antonino, still typing away, glances up. "Isn't she in New York?"

I nod. "Yeah. Which means we'll be flying out again."

Damien groans, rubbing his face. "Tell me we're not heading back to the States."

"Business," I remind him. "In and out. We just need her intel on Greece."

Antonino smirks knowingly. "Mariella's coming, isn't she?"

My jaw flexes at the mention of her. My little princess. She made it painfully clear this morning—threats and all—that I wasn't setting foot in New York without her. She's been waiting for this moment, for Niko's downfall, and she's not about to sit on the sidelines. Not that I ever expected her to.

"She didn't exactly give me a choice," I admit, rubbing my temple.

Both Antonino and Damien smirk, but I level them with a sharp look. "What the fuck are you two still doing here? Get back to work." My tone leaves no room for argument.

They shake their heads and refocus, but I can feel the amusement lingering in the air.

I lean back in my chair, downing a slow sip of whiskey, letting the burn crawl through me. My mind drifts to her—Mariella. Every move she makes, every word out of her mouth, she drives me insane in the best fucking way. Just the thought of her is enough to send a sharp tension through my muscles, my cock straining against my slacks.

Hell. She's got me in the palm of her hand. And I'm not even fighting it.

I push back from my desk, rolling my shoulders as the tension in my body refuses to ease. My mind keeps drifting, thoughts pulled away from business and straight to her. My little princess. What the hell is she up to?

I stand, grabbing my phone from the desk, and Antonino and Damine both glance up, eyebrows raised.

"I'll be back," I say flatly, already heading for the balcony.

They exchange looks, probably assuming I'm up to something reckless. They wouldn't be wrong.

The night air is crisp, the cold biting against my skin, but it does nothing to cool the heat simmering under it. I lean against the pillar, staring out at the cityscape, and pull out my phone.

Me: Tell me something good, princess. I'm bored.

A few seconds pass before my phone vibrates in my hand.

Mariella: If you're bored, find something useful to do. I just finished a job.

I smirk.

Me: A job, huh? Tell me more. Or better yet, let me guess—did you break some poor bastard's fingers before collecting payment? Or did you sweet talk your way into a deal before putting a bullet between his eyes?

Mariella: Wouldn't you like to know?

I can practically hear the teasing lilt in her voice, and it only makes my smirk widen.

Me: You're killing me, baby. Here I am, suffering, thinking about you while you're out making men cry. It's not fair.

Mariella: Poor you. Should I send you flowers?

Me: I'd rather have you. Wrapped up, preferably. Maybe in nothing at all.

She leaves me on read for a solid thirty seconds, and I chuckle under my breath.

Mariella: God, you're impossible.

Me: And yet, you keep answering me. Admit it, princess—you like me.

Mariella: I tolerate you.

Me: You adore me.

Mariella: Go to sleep, Leon.

Me: Can't. Too busy picturing you in that dress you wore last week. Or out of it.

I can almost feel her eye roll through the screen, but I know her. She likes this—likes the chase, the teasing, the way I get under her skin just enough to keep her coming back.

Mariella: You're insufferable.

Me: And yet, you haven't blocked me. Which means you want me to keep going.

Another pause. Then—

Mariella: Goodnight, Leon.

I stare at the last text on my screen, smirking. Goodnight, Leon. She thinks she can just end the conversation like that?

Cute.

I press her contact and bring the phone to my ear. It rings twice before she picks up.

"Leon." Her voice is already laced with mild irritation, but I can hear the amusement buried underneath.

I lean back against the balcony railing, staring up at the sky. Perfect.

"Did you really think you could just say goodnight and be done with me, princess?" I say smoothly.

She sighs. "It's late, and I'm tired. What do you want?"

I grin. "You."

She scoffs. "Be serious."

"Oh, I am, sweetheart." I let my voice dip lower, just to mess with her. "You've got me restless. What do you expect me to do when you go off breaking hearts and collecting blood money without me?"

"I expect you to mind your business." She huffs, but there's a hint of a smile in her tone. "You're so damn needy."

"I am when it comes to you."

Silence. Just her breathing on the other end, steady but not unaffected.

I push. "Where are you right now?"

"Back at my father's estate."

"Alone?"

She exhales through her nose. "Leon."

"That's not a no."

She groans, and I chuckle. "Why do you care?" she asks, voice softer now, teasing.

"Because if you're not alone, I might have to start making some bodies disappear."

She laughs—actually laughs, a soft, sultry sound that shoots straight through me. "Possessive much?"

"Always."

She hums, pretending to consider something, then says, "And what if I said I was with someone?"

My jaw clenches. "Then I'd have to remind you exactly who you belong to."

She gasps softly, but I hear the intrigue in it.

"Bold of you to assume I belong to anyone," she counters.

I chuckle darkly. "You can pretend all you want, princess, but we both know the truth."

"And what's that?"

I drag my teeth over my bottom lip, my voice dropping to a murmur. "If I were there right now, you'd be gripping the nearest surface, trying to catch your breath while I remind you exactly who's in control."

Her breathing changes—just slightly, just enough.

"You talk too much," she mutters.

"Would you rather me show you?"

Another pause. Then, in a voice dripping with challenge, she says, "Maybe."

Fuck.

I close my eyes, grip tightening around my phone. "Keep talking like that, princess, and I'll be on the next flight out."

She hums again, dragging out her words like she's enjoying this too much. "What's stopping you?"

I smirk. "Don't tempt me."

"I think I just did."

I let out a slow, measured breath, my patience hanging by a thread. "Did you already forget your last lesson, sweetheart? Maybe I should remind you—fill that sharp little mouth of yours and shove it down with my cock,"

She tuts, her voice dripping with challenge. "Maybe you should, sweetheart."

I shake my head, grinning. "Goodnight, Mariella."

"Goodnight, Leon," she says, quieter now.

I hang up, staring at my phone, knowing damn well neither of us will be getting much sleep tonight.

✧✧✧✧✧✧

Work. Work. Work

He's a business man you're honor.

Bye, lovies! (っ◔◡◔)っ

Maddie♡