Heir In The Shadows

EPISODE 10

The next day at Luciano's Mansion, Luciano leaned back in his leather chair, the smoke from his cigar curling lazily toward the ceiling. Around him, his men laid out reports: shipments secured, territories held, rivals pushed back. His empire was thriving, expanding piece by piece, but tonight his mind was elsewhere — circling the enigmatic fighter who had somehow gotten under his skin.

The sharp buzz of his phone snapped him from his thoughts. He glanced at the screen — a secure message from the man he had assigned to track Damon. With a flick of his thumb, he opened it, his eyes narrowing as he read.

The photo of you and Ghost was sent to Damon. They fought. Ghost left the penthouse in a rage.

Luciano smirked faintly. So Damon had taken the bait. Jealousy was a delicious poison.

But the next line made his smirk freeze.

I followed Ghost. Sir… you need to hear this. He drove into the Kingmaker’s estate.

For a moment, Luciano sat utterly still. The words burned in his mind, daring him to believe them. He read it again. The Kingmaker’s estate.

His man followed with a voice note, trembling on the edge of fear: “Boss… I don’t know who this Jax really is, but he’s not someone we should play games with. The Kingmaker’s Mafia… it’s alive. And Ghost… he’s tied to it.”

Luciano’s cigar burned down between his fingers, forgotten. His mind raced.

The Kingmaker. A name spoken in hushed tones, a shadow that once ruled the underworld like a god before disappearing from the stage. Luciano had built his empire in the vacuum left behind, clawing his way up the ladder with blood and fire. And yet — if the Kingmaker’s Mafia was still breathing, still watching — his power was nothing but a candle against a raging storm.

And Ghost… Jax… the man he thought was just a street fighter with too much discipline in his fists… was walking into that estate.

Luciano leaned forward, pressing his elbows to his desk. His eyes darkened with something he rarely felt: a mix of fascination and unease.

“Jax…” he murmured under his breath. “What the hell are you?”

His men paused their reports, sensing the shift in his tone. Luciano waved them off coldly, dismissing them. Alone, he let the mask slip, jaw tightening as he considered his next move.

The attraction he felt for Jax now burned even hotter, but it was tangled with danger. If Jax was connected to the Kingmaker’s Mafia — or worse, if he was the Kingmaker’s heir — then Luciano wasn’t just falling for a man. He was falling into a war.

And he didn’t know yet if he wanted to escape… or dive deeper.

Luciano swiveled his chair toward the city skyline, the neon lights glinting off his sharp features. His cigar was nothing but ash now, forgotten on the desk. Jax wasn’t just a distraction anymore — he was a puzzle. And puzzles had to be solved.

He pressed a button on the intercom.

“Nic. Matteo. Get in here.”

Two of his most trusted men entered within moments, both sharp-eyed, dressed in tailored black suits that carried the weight of blood on their sleeves.

Luciano didn’t waste time.

“I want everything on Jax — Ghost. Birth records, military history, school, family, enemies. I don’t care if it takes digging through the Vatican’s basement or breaking into government files. If he’s tied to the Kingmaker, I want to know how.”

The men exchanged uneasy glances. Matteo cleared his throat.

“Boss… digging into the Kingmaker is dangerous. People who even whispered about him vanished. If Ghost is connected to that—”

Luciano cut him off with a cold stare.

“Did I ask for your opinion, Matteo?” His voice was low, sharp as a blade. “I asked for results. If Ghost is connected, I want proof. If he’s not… then I want every crack in his armor. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Boss,” they both answered in unison.

Luciano leaned back again, steepling his fingers.

“Start with Damon. Trace his contacts. Find out how he met Jax, where he pulled him from. No one just walks into Damon’s life out of nowhere. Someone planted him there, and I want to know who.”

Nic nodded and moved to leave, but Luciano’s voice stopped him.

“And Nic… make sure no one outside this room knows. If word gets out I’m sniffing around Ghost, it’ll reach him. And if he’s really the Kingmaker’s…” Luciano’s eyes narrowed, the thought unfinished but heavy in the room. “Then we’ll have bigger problems than Damon.”

The men left, and silence swallowed the office once more.

Luciano turned back to the skyline, but his thoughts weren’t on the city anymore. They were on Jax — the way his eyes stayed guarded even when his lips curved into the faintest of smiles. The way his presence felt heavier than any man he had met before.

Danger. That’s what Jax was. Danger wrapped in mystery.

And yet…

Luciano smirked faintly, whispering to himself,

“I don’t care if you’re the Kingmaker himself, Ghost. I’ll peel back every layer until I know you.”

His phone buzzed again. Another message from his informant. He tapped it open, his eyes sharpening instantly at the words:

Boss, you won’t believe this… I think Ghost isn’t just tied to the Kingmaker. He might be blood.

Luciano’s grip tightened around the phone.

Blood.

If that was true… he wasn’t just chasing a man. He was walking into the lion’s den.

---

On the other hand Inside the estate, Jax sat in his private study, glass of whiskey untouched on the desk before him. The room was dark, lit only by the glow of the monitors lining the wall—each feeding him information about movements in the city, men he didn’t even need to see in person to control.

Draco, his most trusted man, stepped forward after a respectful pause. His expression was sharp, voice calm but edged with warning.

“Boss,” Draco said, bowing slightly, “Luciano’s men are digging. Hard. They’ve already hit surface files, ghost traces, and they won’t stop until they reach something real. Do you want us to handle him?”

By “handle,” Draco’s meaning was clear—wipe Luciano from the board before he became a threat.

Jax leaned back in his leather chair, expression unreadable, but his eyes glinted with something cold and dangerous. He swirled the whiskey once before setting it down without drinking.

“No,” Jax said flatly, his voice like steel wrapped in silk. “No one touches Luciano. No one touches his men. No one touches his business.”

Draco frowned, his jaw tight. “But Boss, the more he digs, the closer he comes. He’s reckless. He’ll find things others died trying to uncover.”

Jax’s lips twitched in a humorless smirk.

“Let him dig. Whatever he wants to know, let him have it. If the Kingmaker’s shadow doesn’t scare him away, then maybe he deserves to see what lies beneath.”

“But why protect him?” Draco asked quietly, almost testing the waters.

Jax’s gaze shifted to the monitors, though his mind was elsewhere. Luciano’s sharp smile at dinner. The stubborn fire in his eyes. The way he was unafraid even when standing too close to danger.

“That’s my business,” Jax said finally, voice dropping an octave. “And yours is to follow my orders. Luciano is off limits. Spread the word—any man who raises a hand against him… raises it against me.”

Draco gave a slow nod, though unease lingered on his face.

“As you wish, Boss. But if this comes back to bite us—”

“It won’t,” Jax cut in, tone final. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his eyes hard as stone. “Luciano thinks he’s chasing answers. What he doesn’t know… is that I’m already ten steps ahead.”

Silence thickened between them. Draco bowed his head. “Understood.”

As Draco left, Jax allowed himself a rare exhale. He rubbed his temples, muttering low, almost to himself,

“You really want to play this game, Luciano? Fine. But remember—once you see the truth, there’s no walking away.”

---