About six months back...
"Is that vixen coming?"
"Yes, boss."
A man in his early sixties crushed his half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray and rose from his chair. "Bring me my coat."
The younger man hesitated for a fraction of a second, unease prickling at the back of his neck. Something about this meeting felt wrong, though he dared not say it outright.
"Boss… forgive me for speaking out of turn, but are you sure about this? Being so direct… I think it's risky to look down on Rain Rhaengon." His hands moved quickly, helping the older man into his coat while his voice carried quiet concern, though more for his own skin than for his boss.
It had been only a month since the Rhaegons sent word requesting this meeting, announcing that their new leader was ready to establish ties with other organizations. Normally, such gatherings were symbolic—gestures of mutual respect. But Xavier Mandis had gone further, making an unusual demand: Serena Rhaengon herself was to attend alongside her son.
The Mandis and Rhaengons had enjoyed good terms for years, but this request sent a clear message. Xavier did not see Rain as capable of standing on his own.
"Don't make me laugh," Xavier scoffed. "Who would dare say I'm disrespecting the Rhaengons? All I asked for was to meet an old friend." He flashed a mocking smile as he adjusted his cuffs. "Now hurry, Noah. This meeting will decide our future."
Turning away, Xavier grabbed his attaché case and handed it off to his ever-loyal assistant-cum-bodyguard. Noah accepted it without a word, though his thoughts were uneasy.
Why had the Rhaengons agreed to such humiliation? He knew their position had weakened. After Rain took over, their pharmaceutical front had suffered heavy losses. But could things truly be so dire that they would bow their heads this low? Noah just couldn't understand.
************************************
Rain Rhaengon had carved his name into the underworld at a young age. To many, he was sharper, more strategic, more capable than men who had been in the game for decades. Yet, despite his reputation, his position remained low for years—overshadowed by the fact that he was Serena Rhaengon's son. It was only a year ago that he had been officially given the role of chief executive, and from there, the mantle of leadership.
Before that, the only privilege he had been afforded was to work under his uncle, Steve Jay, who had held the position before him as chief executive. So the rumours that Serena and her son shared "bad blood" were not just idle gossip. Still, Rain had never openly defied his mother. To outsiders, he looked like a deadly puppet on her strings. Or perhaps, they wondered, he simply lacked the power to cut them.
Xavier Mandis had chosen today's meeting place himself.
When Noah first stepped inside the casino, he immediately noticed the excess. His boss had gone out of his way to flaunt wealth tonight. The usually dim-lit halls blazed with golden decoration, chandeliers scattering warm light across polished floors. Members of the Mandis group lounged across tables, laughing and playing games—ping pong, cards, roulette—money and chips stacked high in piles, a gaudy show of dominance. It was Xavier's territory, and every glittering coin was a show off to that factor.
"It's not as though Rain Rhaengon has never stepped into a casino before," Noah muttered under his breath, his blue eyes scanning the room cautiously. But what caught his attention wasn't the games; it was the people.
Xavier was nothing if not cunning, and tonight he had ensured every man present was more than a gambler. Each of them was a guard, weapons carefully hidden beneath silk and wool. The security was almost overwhelmingif anyone looked carefully, so tightly drawn that Noah's stomach twisted. Whatever he claimed, his arrogant and prideful master was still wary, fearful of Serena Rhaengon, the woman he mocked so freely yet never dared confront outright.
Rain Rhaengon had arrived early, beating them to the meeting spot. He sat lazily on a velvet sofa, glass in hand, idly sipping wine. His other hand moved with casual precision, signing instructions to the man playing cards at his side, as if the game mattered more than the negotiations about to take place. When Noah entered, Rain's heavy-lidded eyes lifted just enough to meet his own. They exchanged small, silent nods.
"Mr. Xavier is attending a private matter. He'll be joining us shortly. I hope you don't mind." Rain gave another curt nod.
Noah, still carrying Xavier's attaché case, set it carefully beside the table. His eyes searched for the figure his boss had demanded to see. His jaw clenched.
He remembered Rain well. For years, since the boy had been barely seventeen, Rain had appeared at gatherings—not as Serena's son, but as a low-ranking guard. Running errands, standing in shadows, faceless among the organization. Yet today… today felt different. Rain's presence had flipped. The way he sat, the small gestures of authority, the effortless way he made others orbit around him—he carried himself like someone born to command. That realization alone made Noah irritated to bone.
"...Nora, wasn't it?"
Noah stiffened.
Receiving no reply, Rain leaned forward and placed a hand flat on the table. The dullness in his eyes sharpened into something mischievous. "So I was right, wasn't I? My memory's pretty good, you see."
"It is Noah." The correction came with a scowl barely contained.
"Ah… Noah. Forgive me." Rain's eyes glinted with false apology. "But no surname? Just Noah? Like a stray, perhaps—"
"Yes, sir. Just. Noah." His fists curled discreetly behind his back.
Rain hummed in amusement, leaning back as a masked female guard silently approached to pour wine into his glass. She moved with practiced grace, but Noah's sharp eyes recognized her instantly. His breath caught, though his face betrayed nothing.
Hidden beneath a mask, reduced to a guard at her own son's side. The sight unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.
"Tell me," Rain's voice cut through again, "does it always take your boss this long to handle his… private matters in the restroom?"
Noah blinked, pulled from his thoughts. "As I said, sir—"
"Come now. We've crossed paths too many times for this sir nonsense. Drop the formality." Rain's smirk widened, needling, deliberate. He was enjoying this.
"You're unusually chattery today," Noah said flatly.
"You'd be chattery too, dear Noah," Rain countered, swirling his glass of wine lazily, "if you were sitting in this chair instead of standing there like a loyal hound waiting for scraps. Who knows, hell, you might've even felt like chirping." He tapped the armrest beside him, pointing at the empty seat across the table—reserved for Xavier.
The atmosphere thickened instantly. The two young men locked eyes, tension crackling between them. Rain sat high, gaze angled upward in mocking amusement, while Noah stood looming over him, restrained like a dog leashed to a master he secretly despised.
The silence broke when a shadow finally moved into the room.
"Enough chatter," Xavier's gravelly voice carried across the floor. "Let's begin."
The old man's arrival cut the tension like a blade, his warm smile smoothing over the air with practiced ease.
He was going to play his game tonight. That much, at least, was what he thought.