The Lucero anniversary wasn't just a party, it was the grand ball, the kind where everyone showed up to flex.
All the capos came dressed to the nines, drowning themselves in women, omegas, food, music, even drugs they wouldn't dare touch on normal days.
It wasn't about pleasure. It was about showing everyone just how far Lucero had come under Lucien's reign.
The whole thing was held in one of Lucero's biggest, most hidden manors, sitting on top of a forested hill near the Astrix coast.
From the balcony, Lucien could see the cars lining up along the dark, twisting road, headlights winding like a glowing snake toward the manor.
This was the same place he spent his childhood. The same place he last saw his father.
"Can't believe I'm here again," he muttered, sipping his white wine, "right before my own kidnapping… and with the same bastard who killed my parents. What a damn irony." He downed the glass and let the sea wind hit his face.
The sounds of the party downstairs drifted up to him: music, laughter, voices he didn't care to recognize. Security filled the halls, stricter than a presidential summit, tighter than any diplomatic guard.
"And the Hound's gonna get blamed again," he said, shaking his head.
"I should give that poor bastard a raise. Maybe a seaside manor for retirement."
He glanced at his reflection in the wine glass. Hair slicked back, crisp white tux, a white rose in his pocket. Perfectly put together. Handsome enough that any man would want him.
He smirked. "Alphas are weird, but damn, I do look good tonight."
Still, he couldn't figure it out. Why were they so desperate to have him? Was it power? Was it ego?
To say they owned the Don of Lucero, the most powerful mafia in the country? Maybe. Whatever the reason, he was ready for it.
Because unlike them, Lucien knew exactly what he wanted.
He smiled to himself, sharp and mocking. 'I can finally show my true desire as omega and the most satisfying part is…'
Seeing his brother go down from the sideline while he suck and fuck some delicious dick. The alphas would think they owned him even when it was the other way around.
The thought made him chuckle. "Hm… it does give me some boost of ego thinking about it."
A knock came at the door. "Boss, everyone's ready."
Lucien set down his glass, straightened his jacket, and took a long breath. Then he turned toward the hall, ready to walk straight into the wolf's den, wearing the skin of one himself.
***
The moment Lucien stepped down the stairs, everyone swarmed him like chicks around a mother hen.
Compliments, fake smiles, business proposals, flashy gifts, and—oh, look—another business proposal.
He only gave them nods and polite "thanks," the bare minimum, as long as no one stepped out of line.
Then the crowd split like water, clearing a path for a man who stood out without even trying. Tall—at least 192 cm—golden hair catching the light, eyes calm as a forest but sharp enough to remind you there were beasts hiding inside it.
Edmund Hale. The Gilded Leopard.
Two shadows flanked him, the so-called Twinster: a stupid nickname for two men who weren't even twins but moved so in sync it creeped everyone out.
Edmund's smile was all grace and poise as he greeted, "Happy anniversary to Lucero. May your reign remain prosperous."
He then reached Lucien's hand and kissed his index finger where that tattoo of a star belongs, making him tremble.
Especially when those emerald eyes that as shining and beautiful like the gemstone looking at him.
But Lucien has great control as he just let out a low laugh.
"Don't hit me with that ancient language. Still, thanks for showing up. I didn't expect someone as 'efficient' as you to waste time at a party."
"Efficient?" Edmund repeated with a glint in his eye, his smile never faltering.
He leaned in just enough for his voice to drop. "Why don't we talk over some tea?"
Lucien's brows knit at the words. It was a code for a private meeting between the two of them and that twinster behind that kept following their lord command like puppets.
'Tea, huh? Aren't they supposed to try kidnapping me after the party? That was the plan…'
But then he remembered Obscura's report. Vincent had only planned to rope Dominus in, while Lunox had somehow slipped in with their own deal. The so-called "alliance" wasn't even solid.
'So what's this then? A side deal? A chance to get me before the others?' He closed his eyes briefly. 'No. Too many eyes here. Edmund's not reckless enough to try it now.'
"Sure, why not?"
Lucien turned to the man standing behind him, Dante, his cousin. Jet black hair, sharp jawline, soft voice, amethyst eyes that mirrored his own.
Makes him wonder why everyone in his family is so damn hot and an alpha. It was just him who was an oddball.
"You handle the rest," Lucien whispered. "I'll deal with Edmund."
"Without guards? Should I call the Hound?" Dante asked, voice edged with concern.
"No need. I'll be fine."
With that, Lucien turned back to Edmund, his smile sharp as glass. "Let's go."
They walked off together, leaving Dante behind with eyes full of suspicion.
***
"So what do you want to talk about?" Lucien asked bluntly as he sank into the couch.
Edmund sat across from him, cigar between his fingers, smoke curling up lazily while his Adam's apple bobbed with every slow drag.
Lucien watched him in silence. The veins on that thick neck made his eyes flicker for a second, he hated himself for noticing. Damn it, Edmund was still too hot for his own good.
That calm but commanding expression. The soft-spoken words that carried weight. Those broad shoulders and big hands inked with tattoos, the crown jewel on his palm, the faint mark at his neck. Gentlemanly to the core, at least to him.
No wonder he'd had a crush on him when they were kids.
Yes, childhood friends. Their fathers were close, and whenever Edmund's father came to see Cesare in a private room…
While the two of them were left to play together in the gardens or in Lucien's room.
Lucien with his endless toys, Edmund simply nodding and humoring him like an old soul trapped in a young body.
But then, out of nowhere, the thought hit him like a bullet.
'Wait. Was my father secretly screwing his father?'
Lucien nearly choked on his own breath, eyes narrowing. 'What the fuck?!'
He was so lost in that revelation that he didn't even catch Edmund leaning to whisper something to Adrian. The silver-haired man moved forward, pouring liquor into crystal glasses with practiced ease.
"Let's drink first," Edmund said smoothly. "It's been too long since we've sat down like this."
Lucien chuckled dryly. "We're not kids anymore."
His gaze fell on the drink, suspicion crawling up his spine.
He wasn't sure if that glass had poison in it, and he only carried the antidote for Lunas kiss.
Edmund noticed his hesitation. His voice dipped, hurt but controlled. "You don't trust me?"
Then, without missing a beat, he switched their glasses and slid the full one toward Lucien.
"Drink mine."
Lucien's lips twisted as he picked it up. "Of course, I don't trust you. You didn't lift a finger when I first became Don. Not even once."
He downed the liquor, bitterness burning more than the alcohol itself. His image of the "perfect Leopard" cracked long ago, and all that was left was the sour taste of betrayal.
"You're still hung up on that?" Edmund sighed, putting out his cigar. "I had my hands full. My men's opinions carry weight. That doesn't mean I didn't want to help you."
Lucien scoffed, legs crossing in sharp defiance. "Right. Still the same passive child you were back then. And stop using that gentle tone with me, we're not friends anymore."
Edmund leaned back against the couch, unfazed. His composure was infuriating.
"Nor are we enemies," he replied, his voice cool and even.
At that, the second shadow moved. The man with tied black hair and piercing blue eyes placed a document on the table between them. The sound of paper against wood echoed louder than the music from downstairs.
Edmund tapped it once with his finger, his gaze holding Lucien's.
"Your stepbrother betrayed you."