Chapter 7.

Tuscany, Italy.

At a grand villa in a secretly hidden chamber, the heavy scent of expensive cigars filled the air. The light was dimmed, spilling from antique chandeliers, and the walls were lined with books and oil paintings. Men in dark suits sat stiffly on the long mahogany table at the centre of the room. Crystal glasses filled with whiskey rested in front of them, but nobody dared to take a sip.

This was no ordinary meeting, it was the annual gathering of the most powerful European mafia leaders, held within the fortified estate of Mr Sergei Volkov, once the king of the underground empire.

At the head of the table sat Nikolai Volkov. Dressed in a black tailored suit that hugged his broad frame. He exuded a deadly calm. His normally piercing blue eyes were unusually dark tonight, filled with something dangerous. To his left, was his godfather, Mr Sergei. Even though Sergei no longer sat on the throne, his presence still commanded fear and respect.

One of the bosses, a slick-haired man from Japan had just finished speaking about potential profits from expanding into the Asian markets. He glanced at Nikolai nervously, holding his breath. The room was silent as eyes turned toward Nikolai, waiting for his judgment.

Nikolai didn’t speak, instead, his fingers impatiently tapped once on the table, and immediately the room froze, everyone casting him a nervous terrified glance.

Nikolai’s hand discreetly moved under the table. In a blink, he drew his gun and pointed it directly at the man.

Gasps echoed around the room as the chairs scraped. A few reached instinctively for their weapons, only to stop at the sharp glare from Sergei senior.

Nikolai’s voice was low, yet very dangerous. " I will not tolerate drugs, nor any illegal dealings that put our name in jeopardy. Now tell me Mr Yuri, why are there documents of your illegal dealings in Asia since our last annual meeting?"

The man gulped, trying to maintain his composure under Nikolai’s pressurising stare.

Nikolai grabbed a remote and pressed a button, and immediately the projected footage of all Mr Yuri's crimes and transactions was displayed.

Immediately, everyone glanced at Yuri with an accusatory glance, as a nervous sweat dripped down his face, and he folded his hands apologetically.

"So now tell me Yuri, how do we expand our business to Asia when you're already established? Isn't this one of your tricks to expand your illegal trades while hiding under our wings," Nikolai thundered angrily, glaring daggers at him.

Yuri glanced at Nikolai with a fearful face. "How did you find that evidence? I hid them very well..."

"That's why I'm the newly appointed don and not you, and as for how, it's very easy." Nikolai cut him short. "Otherwise, how would I fit to be the don if such a simple thing could hide from me?"

Everything happened very fast, and within no time a gun stood pointed at Mr Ivan, the Ukrainian boss, who had sat next to Yuri. Gasps rippled across the room as everyone tensed up, reaching out for their guns. A few of Yuri's friends acted up immediately, pointing their guns at everyone at the table.

"You let me go or I blow his head off?" Yuri spoke up arrogantly daring Nikolai.

As composed as ever, Nikolai slowly stood up and clapped. "Wow, what an excellent opportunist you are," he said sarcastically taking a step forward.

"Take one more step forward and you count him dead," Yuri declared cocking the gun, as sweat trickled down Mr Ivan's face.

A cold smirk played at the corners of Nikolai's eyes, and suddenly a gunshot thundered across the room, as Yuri's dead body crumbled on the ground, blood flowing from his skull.

Mr Ivan who had fallen to the ground at the gunshot slowly stood up, glancing around at himself in confusion when he didn't feel any pain.

Everyone glanced at Nikolai shocked, at how he had managed to do it.

"If I find out anyone in this room has been involved in trafficking, in any corner of this continent," Nikolai spoke, his voice icy hell, "I will find you. And I will end you. Myself."

He didn’t lower the gun. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, glaring at the Polish leader who had sweat dripping down his face. "We run a clean business. Even though we operate in shadows, we do not stain our hands with poison. Let that be known to everyone."

Sergei sipped from his glass of vodka, a satisfied proud glint in his eye showing he approved.

The room remained tense, as everyone slowly returned their guns to their pockets.

"Remember..." Nikolai started but then Roman walked in hurriedly, dressed in his usual tactical black. He leaned down and whispered something into Nikolai’s ear.

Nikolai’s grip tightened on the gun for a moment, and his jaw flexed.

Without another word, he stood, the chair sliding back. He tucked the gun away, eyes sweeping across the table one last time.

"This meeting is over," he said coldly. "Roman, prepare the plane. We leave immediately." Without waiting for anyone's objection, he stood as everyone stared at him in confusion.

Sergei blinked in surprise. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Nikolai didn’t answer, instead, he parked the files and threw them over to Roman.

Sergei's voice rose. "Nikolai! This is the most important meeting of the year. You don't just stand up and walk away from this table! How dare you be disrespectful!"

Nikolai didn’t even spare him a glance. He straightened his jacket and turned, his long strides already taking him towards the door.

The men looked at each other, stunned, and angry. Some looked at Sergei senior, unsure of what to do.

Sergei slammed his glass on the table. "You are the don, but you walk out of the table? Are you out of your damn mind? You think leadership is a game?"

Nikolai paused at the door, then slowly, he turned his head just enough to speak, his voice very low and calm, but cold as a frozen blade. "I'm very sorry senior, but this is very important." With that he walked out, Roman close behind, closing the door after him. Mr Sergei threw the empty glass of vodka in his hand across the room, crashing it against the wall, his brows furrowed.