Chapter 2 : The lion's den

The night in Monte Carlo wasn't just dark. It was expensive.

The Carlo Manco Casino looked like a golden palace right in the middle of the city. Outside, the street was blocked by Ferraris and Lamborghinis.

Inside, the place smelled like old money and expensive champagne. And greed.

Downstairs, rich people were losing millions in seconds at the roulette tables. The sound of chips clinking and jazz music was everywhere.

But upstairs on the top floor? Dead silent.

THE VIP LOUNGE

This was the restricted zone. No one came here without permission. And the ones who did enter? They usually didn't leave easily.

Lorenzo Moretti sat on a huge leather chair like a King on his throne. He swirled a glass of red wine.

Stared at it blankly. He was bored. Deadly bored.

Across the long table, his younger brother Matteo was busy throwing peanuts into his mouth. Trying to catch them.

"Missed again!" Matteo groaned. He leaned back and grinned at Lorenzo. "You know, Big Brother, I thought you were staying in Italy forever. What brings the 'Devil' back to Monaco so suddenly?"

Lorenzo didn't even blink. His jaw tightened.

"Be quiet, Matteo," he said. His voice was deep and rough. "Or I will have Enzo stitch your mouth shut."

In the corner, Enzo Romano chuckled. A dark sound. He was cleaning a sharp silver dagger with a silk cloth. Like it was his baby.

"I'd do it for free, Boss," Enzo smirked. He tested the blade on his thumb. "Just say the word."

Dante Lombardi sighed loud. He was the only normal person in the room. He fixed his glasses and flipped through a file, ignoring the crazy people.

"Leave the kid alone, Lorenzo. And Enzo, put that knife away. You're scaring the waitresses."

Dante looked up at Lorenzo. "Focus. What do you think about the Rossi proposal?"

Lorenzo finally looked up. His eyes were cold. Empty.

"I don't like it," he said flatly. "Cancel it."

"But—"

"I said, cancel it," Lorenzo cut him off. "The contract is stupid. Adrian Rossi wants to move drugs through our area. He wants our protection to cross the border."

He took a sip of wine. "I don't share my land with rats."

"That jerk," Enzo scoffed. He stabbed his knife into the arm of his wooden chair. "I told you we should have killed him last summer."

Before Dante could yell at Enzo for ruining the furniture, a sharp knock hit the heavy door.

The room went totally quiet. Even Matteo stopped chewing.

A guard walked in. He was shaking a little under the stares of four dangerous Alphas.

"S-Sir," the guard bowed low. "There is... someone here to see you."

Lorenzo rolled his eyes. Annoyed. He hated unplanned meetings. "I am not in the mood. Throw him out."

"Sir..." the guard gulped. "He says he has an appointment. His name is Ivan Volkov."

The name hung in the air. Heavy.

Dante froze. He looked at Lorenzo quickly.

"Ivan Volkov," Dante muttered. "Kirill's oldest son.

The one who runs the Russian empire."

"Oh!" Matteo chirped. "The Russian Prince? I heard he's as scary as you, Big Bro. Interesting."

Lorenzo narrowed his eyes. He slammed the file shut.

"Why is a Volkov in my casino?"

"Probably business," Dante said fast. His brain was already working. "Lorenzo, don't say no. We need to keep the peace. Send him in."

Lorenzo clenched his jaw. Nodded at the guard.

"Fine. Send him in. But if he wastes my time, he leaves through the window."

THE CLASH OF KINGS

A few minutes later, the double doors opened wide.

Ivan Volkov walked in.

He didn't look impressed by the fancy room. He didn't look nervous. He walked like a predator. His black suit was perfect. Behind him was his assistant, Kevin, holding a briefcase.

Ivan stopped exactly three steps from the table. He didn't bow.

"Mr. Moretti," Ivan said. His voice was deep. heavy Russian accent.

Lorenzo didn't stand up. It was a power move. He stayed sitting. Looking up at Ivan like he was bored.

"Volkov," Lorenzo nodded once. He pointed at the empty chair. "Sit."

Ivan sat down. Stiff. Professional. The air in the room got heavy. Two dominant Alphas testing each other.

"What brings the Russian heir to my playground?" Lorenzo asked. Mocking him.

"I am here for a deal, Mr. Moretti," Ivan said. Straight to the point.

"Go on. I'm listening."

"We want the warehouse area near the North Sea," Ivan said, staring right at Lorenzo. "The Volkov family wants to expand. We plan to build a luxury Lounge there. We need that land."

For a moment, no one spoke. The only sound was the clock ticking in the corner.

Then, Lorenzo laughed. A dry sound. No humor in it.

"The warehouse?" He leaned forward. His playful look was gone. "That is prime land, Volkov. We don't bargain on things that are already mine."

Ivan didn't flinch. "Everything has a price, Lorenzo. We will pay double. Or... we can offer something else."

"I don't need your money," Lorenzo spat out. Ready to kick him out.

"Lorenzo," Dante leaned in close. Whispered in Italian.

"Wait. Don't be rash. Think about the weapon routes in Russia. If we give them this useless warehouse, we can ask for access to their borders. It's a win for us."

Lorenzo paused. Looked at Dante. Then back at Ivan. He hated admitting it, but Dante was right.

He leaned back. Kept a poker face.

"Send the contract to my office tomorrow," Lorenzo waved his hand. "I will read it. If I like it, maybe I won't burn it."

It was a yes. But wrapped in an insult.

Ivan smirked a little. He stood up and buttoned his jacket.

"I will take that as a positive response, Mr. Moretti. The contract will be there by morning."

Ivan turned and walked out. Just as confident as when he came in.

As soon as the door closed, Kevin, the assistant, let out a huge breath. "Sir... that was intense. What if they said no?"

Ivan's smirk got bigger. "They wouldn't. Lorenzo is arrogant, but he isn't stupid. He knows a good deal."

THE OBSESSION BEGINS

Back inside the VIP room, the tension finally broke.

"Well, that was fun!" Matteo laughed. Clapped his hands. "Did you see his face? So serious. Just like you, Enzo."

Lorenzo ignored him. He stared at the door.

Something about the visit bothered him. The Volkovs never moved without a reason.

"Dante," Lorenzo ordered. His voice low. Dangerous.

"Already on it," Dante said, typing on his tablet.

"No," Lorenzo stopped him. "I don't just want business data. I want full info on the Volkov family.

Every member. Every secret. Why do they want that spot? Who are they hiding?"

"You suspect something?" Enzo asked. Put his knife away.

"I suspect everything," Lorenzo muttered.

"I will have a detailed file on your table by tomorrow morning," Dante promised. "Kirill, his wife, Ivan... and the youngest one."

"Youngest one?" Lorenzo raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Kyrian Volkov," Dante said. "The model. Though he rarely comes to these meetings."

Lorenzo hummed. A weird curiosity hit him.

Matteo jumped up. Grabbed Lorenzo's arm. "Okay, enough cryptic Mafia talk! You promised Mom you'd come home for dinner. If we are late, she will kill us. And I am too young and handsome to die!"

Lorenzo rubbed his temples. Groaned. Dealing with rival gangs was easy. Dealing with his mother and Matteo? That was the real war.

"Fine," Lorenzo stood up. Grabbed his coat. "Let's go."