In the heart of California's financial district, a majestic 50-story skyscraper, Smith's Corporation, towered above its neighbors. The building's sleek, glass façade reflected the vibrant cityscape, its angular design and sharp lines exuding modernity and power, luminous LED lights tracing the perimeter, illuminating the surrounding streets, rooftop helipad, a symbol of Kyle's influence and prestige.

A black Rolls-Royce Phantom pulled up to the entrance, its tinted windows hiding its occupant until the door swung open. Kyle Smith emerged, the most feared Mafia lord and business tycoon in California, notorious for his ruthless tactics in the underworld, unyielding grip on the state's economy, cold, calculating personality that commanded respect and inspired fear.

At 6'4", his lean, athletic build was accentuated by black leather jacket, fitted to perfection, accentuating broad shoulders, matching black pants, crisp and pressed, showcasing toned legs,black boots, polished to a mirror finish, completing his intimidating ensemble. His sharp jawline, prominent nose, and full lips, piercing black eyes, cold and unyielding, seemed to bore into those he gazed at. His Jet-black hair, styled messy yet perfectly imperfect.

As he stepped onto the sidewalk, workers scrambled to bow, their faces a mix of reverence and fear. "Welcome, Mr. Smith," they chimed, their voices laced with trepidation.

Kyle's expression remained impassive, his eyes scanning the area before striding toward the building. His dismissal was palpable, and the employees sighed softly, their faces reflecting relief and apprehension.

Upon entering the lobby, Kyle was enveloped by polished marble floors, reflecting the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, a stunning fountain, its gentle melody a soothing contrast to the tension outside, panoramic view of the city, showcasing California's vibrant skyline,Plush, cream-colored sofas and chairs, arranged elegantly,Floor-to-ceiling mirrors, adding depth and sophistication.

The staff bowed deeply, their eyes cast downward. "Welcome, Mr. Smith," they echoed, their voices barely above a whisper.

Kyle's gaze swept the area, his presence commanding silence. His long strides devoured the distance to the elevator.

Kyle entered his expansive office, its sleek, modern design reflecting his impeccable taste.Floor-to-ceiling windows offered an unobstructed view of California's skyline,a polished mahogany desk dominated the room, flanked by two minimalist chairs,black leather sofa and chair sat in the corner, accompanied by a gleaming chrome coffee table and the walls featured stunning pieces of contemporary art.

His gaze darkened as he spotted Max Thompson, his best friend and second-in-command, lounging in one of the chairs, twirling a pen between his fingers.

Max, with his chiseled features and bright, piercing black eyes, radiated warmth and charisma. His sun-kissed skin and messy blond hair gave him a laid-back, California-boy vibe,bright, contagious smile could light up a room,fit physique, honed from years of surfing, was evident even under his casual attire.

"What are you doing here?" Kyle asked, his voice cold and even.

Max flashed his signature grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Just admiring the view... and your intimidating attire." He gestured to Kyle's outfit. "With the way you're dressed right now, not only women but also men will drool over you."

Kyle's expression remained unyielding, his piercing blue eyes narrowing slightly.

Max continued, undeterred. "Seriously, Kyle, you look like you just stepped out of a GQ spread. The black leather suits you."

Kyle's expression remained unchanged as he sat in his chair, ignoring Max's teasing. With a serious gaze, Kyle said, "Spill the tea."

Max cleared his throat, wanting to share his news, but was interrupted by his ringing phone. "Speak," Max said, answering the call and putting it on speaker.

"Boss, the Lees are invading our territory," the man on the other end said, gunshots audible in the background.

Kyle's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched.

"What! Hold on, I'm—" Max began, but Kyle was already out of his seat, striding toward the door.

"I'll drive," Kyle told the driver, who nodded and handed over the keys.

"Kyle, wait, we need a plan," Max cautioned.

"Not when they're crossing the line," Kyle replied, anger evident in his tone. "I'll go there first while you send reinforcements."

Max nodded, following Kyle out of the office. "Okay."

Kyle sped away in the car, leaving Max to enter his own vehicle. Max dialed a number.

"Alpha team!"

Meanwhile, in a quieter part of California, Lily Chen, an ordinary café worker, rode her bicycle to work, a bright smile on her face. Her long, curly brown hair danced in the wind,bright hazel eyes sparkled with joy,petite frame and gentle features gave her a delicate, ethereal quality and yellow sundress fluttered around her knees.

"Good morning, world," she said, feeling carefree.

As she approached the café, Lily noticed a crowd gathered nearby. Concern etched on her face, she hurried toward the scene.

Her eyes widened in horror at what she saw.