Halo's account
I have faced demons, but the worst ones were those tailored in tuxedos and lies… like me.
The Grand ElleDuer summit, where corruption wore suits and potbellies, had not been convened since I was a teenager. As I entered the gala's golden glow, chandeliers reflected off a sea of silk tuxedos and cufflinks. Murmurs and whispers followed, probably surprised to see me representing my father. The air was thick with old money and older men.
For years, my father handled all the business of the Riven empire, from insider trading to embezzlement and, best of all, money laundering. He knew every legitimate way to conceal illegal funds. I wasn't proud, but that's how it had been since I was little. As the first son, it was inevitable that I would take over my father's legacy and our loyal mafia ring.
My chest tightened under the weight of their stares. I kept my face calm, but my hands were cold, clenched tightly behind my back. I knew they expected me to fail. I wished this was a dream I could wake from, but reality wasn't so kind.
I greeted one of my father's confidants with a business smile and a slight bow.
"Senator Victor."
The middle-aged senator's eyes scanned me, taking in my tailored suit and chiseled features.
"Little Halo all grown up. Shouldn't you be out enjoying life instead of playing daddy's puppet?" he said, his tone laced with condescension.
"It was my choice to get involved in the family business early," I replied, noting his scowl briefly before he masked it with a smile.
They all wanted to see my father, but that was impossible. My father was critically ill, and we had to keep it a secret. Otherwise, it would spark a war with his business partners, who would want nothing more than to take over the Riven mafia—one of the strongest mafia rings in the country.
"Well, you're in for a surprise only your father could manage," the chubby senator grinned ominously.
I frowned, a strange prickling sensation crawling up my spine.
"What surprise?" I asked, though my voice lacked its usual confidence. The room seemed quieter now, shadows cast by the chandeliers flickering across the suspicious faces around me.
"You'll see," Senator Victor said, tapping my shoulder before walking away, a grin still plastered on his face.
As I tried to shake off the senator's words, the shadows shifted and there he was. Jokel. My heart stilled. A ghost from a past I'd tried to forget, now standing before me. He emerged from the shadows, eyes locked on mine with cold intensity. Anger spread across his face as he raised his hand, pointing a sleek silver gun at me.
"Long time, princess," he sneered, malice dripping from every word. "Miss me?"
My heart raced. I froze, my gaze fixed on the gun. The world around us seemed to melt away, leaving only Jokel and me.
"You're brave, I'll give you that," I spat, trying to keep my voice steady. "But pulling a gun at the Grand ElleDuer summit? Still haven't lost your brain fat, I presume."
Jokel chuckled, sending a shiver down my spine. His hazel eyes glinted with forced amusement.
"I don't care if I die today, so you better fucking tell me where your owner is, you bloody lacey."
I smirked, boldly taking a step closer to the gun.
"You mean my father? Well, he's alive and unable to come. Unlike yours."
Jokel's eyes darkened as he thumbed the gun's safety off. Gasps rippled through the crowd. My heart pounded in my chest, but I forced myself not to blink.
"Shut the fuck up, you bastard," he growled. "Where is he?"
The air around us was thick with tension, every eye on us. No escape for me.
Senator Victor and several others hurried forward, attempting to persuade Jokel.
"Jokel, please stop this!" Senator Victor commanded, but the tremble in his voice betrayed his fear."You know the consequences of killing someone in ElleDuer."
"Back off, old man," Jokel snarled, his eyes never leaving mine.
"This is between me and the lacey."
In a flash, my fingers closed around cold steel, the barrel of my gun now aimed at Jokel's head. The room gasped, shook, and fear rippled through the crowd even more now that two guns were drawn.
We stood frozen, guns aimed at each other's heads, an unsettling silence hanging between us.
"Don't start something you can't finish," I warned, my voice low.
"I'm not starting anything, just ending what your damn Rivens began," he shot back.
The silence was heavy and suffocating. It had been years since I last saw those cold, hazel eyes. He hadn't changed much—still broad-shouldered, with the same sharp jawline and that small mole beneath his brow, a mark I once found familiar. My chest tightened with old pain, but the past was unchangeable, just like him.
I cocked the safety on my golden gun, swallowing hard, bracing for the worst. In the past, I would've sworn Jokel would never harm me, but now he was a different man. His eyes were devoid of emotion, filled only with darkness and rage.
"Put down your gun, Luciano," I urged, knowing he wouldn't back down.
"Don't call me that," he snarled, swiveling the gun toward the crowd. "Draw your fucking guns and aim at him or anyone with him!"
I scanned the room, my heart pounding as I searched for a traitor. No one drew their guns; they knew better than to provoke the Rivens while our leader still drew breath. Still, I was relieved that I wouldn't have to punish anyone so soon. The Rivens never forget.
Jokel's face flushed with anger as he turned to me, making his declaration.
"Since you all fear the rats more than you fear L'Ordine Nero, consider your merchandise and shipments under my protection permanently destroyed and our alliance over."
Almost instantly, the businessmen and their sons drew their guns, all aiming squarely at me. The so-called fear was gone. Only a few kept their guns holstered, not aimed at me.
Jokel's smirk widened, his gun unwavering.
"So, what's it gonna be, pretty boy? Surrender your father, or watch me put you down like a dog."