People walked around the streets of New York completely unaware that the supernatural existed. Over hundreds of centuries, werewolves have wandered these lands without being discovered. They hid in plain sight as regular business employees, students, lawyers, doctors, cops and even drug dealers. And in this secret society of werewolves there's a hierarchy, and no matter where one went on this planet, a hierarchy always called for trouble. The shifter world is ruled by the strongest alphas, and their packs have been following them since beginning of their creation.

However, for this system to run smoothly, all the alphas must follow a code which was created by their ancestors. Although, the one that ruled them all, protected them all and created them, was their goddess, Maya. She was the deity that all werewolves' evil or good worshipped. If someone ever wondered why a wolf howled towards a lonesome moon? It was because that beautiful creature knew that Maya would always listen to his prayers.

However, prayers weren't heard in Hell. As much as one screamed and begged, it didn't mean that they were granted mercy by the divine. Trez Luciano learned that the hard way.

Born in the harsh slums of New York, he didn't have the luxury to be a child with dreams or pleasures. He was thrown into a dark, vile place and his only option was to break free, even at the cost of his own soul. On the streets, anything was a weapon and if someone was unarmed then they'd usually get killed for a few scraps or coins or even their organs- it didn't matter. That was the life of the weak.

Trez knew that only the powerful survived. So, from a young age, he decided that he had to build himself an empire where no one would dare to touch him or his younger brother Axe.

Except, power didn't come easy to a kid like him. He was scrawny, weak and with a wolf who was too afraid to fight back... but he had a fire in him that no one could match. He would rule the world even if that meant that he needed to conquer Hell first.

Trapped in a cage for over a decade taught him that his broken body wasn't weak but untrained. So, he learned to fight until he could hit back and watch his enemy fall at his feet. And he got really good at it. Soon enough, the Luciano name was feared by everyone.

Trez and his brother Axe escaped their prison and freed their name. But the work had just begun... debts were owed and money was to be made. Trez didn't have a moment to rest nor did he look to anyone to help him. He built his empire and everyone that tried to stop him were annihilated.

Trez always got what he wanted, whether it was more money or the fastest cars. He never needed reason. Although, for quite some time, the emptiness inside him grew and it was as if he was frozen in time. Everything passed in a blurred haze like he couldn't find a reason to be on top of the world anymore.

Trez was a businessman. He didn't know emotions like the rest of the world did. He lived his life like the two sides of a coin; heads or tails, black or white, good or bad. He was confident in the rules that he used to govern his life. He was fair with his partners and with everyone that visited his club, although he never hesitated to wipe the floor with anyone that crossed him. He ruled his nightclub like Lucifer did Hell. He found it ironic that society labelled him as the Devil and his club as Hell, when all his life he yearned to escape it. But there was no escape, it was a pipe dream according to everyone that still remained in the slums.

However, Trez didn't regret his actions. He was lethal in a fight and his powerful status ensured that his territory was under his control at all times. He didn't have the luxury to find out what was aching inside the void in his heart. Trez knew that power meant sacrifice and he was always ready to give everything he had to guarantee his status remained untouched. He wasn't alone in this though, he had his brother.

Axe Luciano was a terrible force that could kill anyone without any regret. He held no remorse in his heart. Frankly, Trez wondered if his brother even had a heart. He was always a quiet kid, but who would have thought that his younger brother was born to kill and maim. The Luciano brothers were inseparable and unbeatable in a fight together, that's what the world said about them and Trez agreed as cocky as it sounded.

Yet, what was he missing now that he was at the top? This single thought was like a thorn in his heart. He ignored it for as long as he could. Sealing the ache in his soul, he made sure that him and his wolf were never distracted because in a fight that only meant one thing; death.

And he couldn't die just yet... work still had to be done and his empire would only grow.

Working as a barista and baker meant early morning shifts and two shots of expresso with buttered toast.

The alarm rang waking Angela Moretti from her haunted nightmare that was the same every single night for the past five years. Her parents found dead by the small red car, their blood was all she could smell as she called their names out but they never answered. She hated this dream that never left her, it was like a scar which never healed and she knew it would be with her forever.

Turning over onto her side, she shut the alarm off and pushed the blanket off her body. She looked up at the window and the sky was still dark.

Angela left her home in Tuscany after her parents died in a shooting that was anything but an accident. But that was in the past and she left all that behind. She now resided in the busy bustle of New York.

She heard the soft chime of bells from across the hall and she knew that her roommate, Sonya Sharma was awake to go to work as well. They've been living together ever since they met at the airport five years ago. Both of them were new to the city and bonded over a slice of chocolate cake.

Angela got out of bed and went into the bathroom to shower. She was quick to wash her hair and blow-dry it once she got out. She braided it before wrapping it into a bun, since she needed to bake at the cafe. Taking the towel off her body, she put on jeans with the cafe t-shirt; all black. Her name tag hung off the pocket of the shirt which was given to her when she was hired. She never forgot to hide the locket her mom gave under her shirt. With her purse, phone and socks, she went down the winding stairs to have breakfast.

She flipped the light switch on since the sun hadn't brightened the small kitchen just yet. Grabbing a mug, she quickly brewed herself an expresso and let the aroma of the beans fill the house, it was her favourite moment of the day.

She stared out the window over the sink that showed the entire neighbourhood before her eyes. But nothing compared to the view that she had back in Tuscany when she looked out the terrace of her bedroom. The birds were energetic this morning and Angela finished her coffee before her best friend came down the stairs.

"Good morning," Sonya greeted her.

"Good morning," Angela smiled at her.

Sonya Sharma was a beautiful Indian woman who had deep brown eyes, that were always bright and lined with black kajal. She was as tall as Angela and had this deep, chocolate skin-tone that shined golden under the lights. Sonya always had her long dark black hair open, but when she needed to work at the cafe she tied it up in a bun with a clip.

Sonya went to the stove to make herself a cup of chai as she grabbed biscuits out of the cupboard, which was her usual breakfast. Unlike Angela who was a wolf shifter, Sonya was only human, but her friend knew everything about the wolf life, since Angela told her.

"I hope Clark isn't coming to work today," Sonya said.

Clark was the owner of the cafe. "He is, remember," Angela reminded. "He's coming to check in on the shop's inventory."

Sonya scoffed. "Like he cares about anything," she said. "He just dumps it all on you."

Angela knew that her friend wasn't wrong, but what were they going to do about it. This was the job that ran their household. "It's fine, Sonya," she said. "Let's enjoy our breakfast before we go."

They both discussed what they'd bake at the cafe today as they finished off their food. Soon after, they cleaned up and left the house together.

The air was crisp with the crunch of leaves under her shoes. September was still warm, but the shift of summer going away and autumn making its descend was obvious. All the trees were shifting from green to orange and the scent of the pumpkins on everyone's porches carried through the breeze.

Sonya unlocked the car and Angela got in with her. More than their irritating boss, this was the worst part of the day. Getting in a car after seeing her parents get killed. Five years may have passed but Angela still hated being in a car. She held onto the seat, her palms getting clammy as she focused on her breath.

"Angela," Sonya's voice surprised her. "We're here."

Looking around, she noticed that they had arrived outside the cafe. Angela grabbed her bag and hurried out of the vehicle finding more confidence as she stood on her own two feet on the pavement outside the cafe. God, if it was up to her, she'd just walk everywhere.

They went up the steps to the Coffee & Co cafe located in Brooklyn, which was an industrial building with black accent walls and long arched windows. The floor was dark brown that contrasted against the white tables everywhere. Angela unlocked the door and went straight for the kitchen with Sonya. Both of already knew what to do since they'd been doing it for years. Preparing all the croissants, brioches, maple or blueberry muffins and donuts that were pumpkin-spiced, it took them two hours to complete before they had to open at eight o'clock.

Sonya prepared the glass shelves with the food as Angela started up the machines to brew the fresh batch of coffee for the morning rush. Sonya handled the cash register, Angela was in charge of the coffee orders alone, which wasn't unusual since Clark would never hire extra help.

"Good morning, ladies," Mrs. Cartwright entered with her pet poodle.

"Good morning, Joyce," Angela and Sonya both smiled at the old lady who always had her silver hair cut in a slick bob and red lipstick, that matched her nails. "The usual," Sonya asked.

"Yes, please," Joyce said. "And what did Angela make today?"

"Cannoli's," Sonya answered.

"Splendid, I will take two of them," Joyce said.

Sonya typed it all up in the register and let Joyce pay before the woman took a seat at the tables with her dog. Joyce always came in before the morning rush to do her daily crossword puzzle and drink a hazelnut latte. Angela gave the lady her order and about twenty minutes later, the rush of the neighbourhood started pouring in. Every member that worked early shifts, like paramedics, officers, interns, students came in. Sonya had to work two registers just to keep up with the first hour of opening. Angela tried her best to keep up with the orders, but there was always a long wait.

By the time it ten o'clock, the rush slowed and the cafe emptied.

Angela and Sonya both fell onto the chairs behind them. "I can't feel my legs," Sonya groaned.

Angela chuckled. "What are legs?" she remarked.

Sonya took off the ugly hat that was part of their uniform. "We need to hire help," she said.

"I'll talk to Clark today," Angela said. She knew that they were insanely short-staffed and this couldn't go on any longer. This cafe was in the central of Brooklyn and many people came here. Angela and Sonya couldn't hold out anymore.

"Oh, look, Mr. Sexy Macchiato is back," Sonya remarked quietly.

The door opened and the bell above the door rang. Immediately, the air in the cafe shifted and Angela's body switched to a strange alertness towards the man that entered the cafe. He wasn't any ordinary man like the other customers. This one stood powerfully tall in a tailored black suit, that had to be more expensive than this entire cafe. The suit fit to his broad shoulders perfectly, his dark black hair raked back showing his dangerously dark blue eyes and ruggedly handsome face, it was unnerving. He held himself in this poised and dignified manner that spoke volumes about his authority. She just never understood why he came to this cafe when he looked like he wasn't from this world.

The dim lights shined over his golden complexion causing the hard lines of his face to be prominent, especially his scowl.

"You can take his order," Sonya said as she nudged Angela's arm.

"No, you do it," Angela said.

Sonya already shoved Angela off the chair and towards the register. "Good morning," she blurted out.

"Smooth," Sonya whispered on the side.

"Good morning," his deep voice was hypnotic.

"The usual?" she asked knowing that he always got a macchiato with a warm cornetto.

He gave a curt nod before he pulled his wallet out, even that was a measured move like he never made a single step without calculation. The air in the cafe thickened with his influence and she felt as if he even controlled her breath. She quickly put his order through and let him pay, he always used cash and never took the change. She was used to putting the rest in the tip jar as he left to his corner table alone.

"He definitely likes you," Sonya said.

"No, he doesn't," Angela said as she brewed the coffee.

"He only lets you take his order and make his coffee," Sonya said.

"Maybe, he just has a preference," Angela reasoned.

"Ask him out," her friend said.

"Stop it," Angela said. "I won't do that. He's just a valued customer who tips well."

Sonya chuckled and was about to say more until a few customers walked in. Angela escaped her friend's remarks and went to give the order to their mysterious regular. She noticed that he had a very Italian choice. Perhaps, he was from Italy. He certainly had that olive skin, blue eyed and rugged look to him.

She placed the cup in front of him and he took his attention off his phone. "Thank you, Angela," he said.

Her stomach flipped at the sound of her name off his lips. "You're welcome," she smiled politely. "Enjoy." She ran out of there as quick as she could. She felt a lot safer behind her coffee machines, although she wasn't sure how much they'd protect her from this man who exuded control and danger from every fibre of his strong body.

Eventually, he finished his coffee and pastry before he left the cafe with his phone against his ear. She could sense his cologne even after he was long gone.

"Asshole alert," Sonya warned.

Angela's eyes went to the door as Clark entered the cafe at twelve o'clock; late as usual. His eyes were on his phone as he was texting someone.

"Angela," he called out. "Meet me in the back when you're done."

Angela almost threw the hot coffee at his face. "Sure," she said through gritted teeth.

"He's still here," Andrew spoke who was dressed in his construction clothes as he grabbed his dark roast and blueberry muffin.

"Sadly," Sonya answered him.

"Didn't Kelly tell you not to eat that blueberry muffin, Andrew," Angela jested.

He shrugged his beefy hand. "It's my only happiness at work," he answered her.

Sonya and Angela laughed as Andrew's team started joking around that their own wives told them to stop easting dessert at work.

"It's your fault, ladies," Colton said as he grabbed the brioche. "You bake these amazing pastries, we keep coming back."

"Have a great day," Angela and Sonya said as they men left together.

"Come on, boys," a voice they recognized arrived. It was Emma with her two boys; Isaac and Cooper.

"Hey, Emma!" Sonya greeted.

"Hey guys," she smiled up at them as she held her a hand from each of her boys.

"What can we get you?" Sonya asked.

"Can I get a vanilla latte," she said, "and two pumpkin spice cake slices."

"Coming right up," Angela said.

Fifteen or twenty minutes passed before Sonya and Angela were able to clear the next rush of customers.

She quickly took off her hat before she went to the back office where Clark was busy on the phone. She opened the door and left it open because she didn't want to be closed up in this room with him.

She waited, tapping her foot as he finished off the call like they had all day just for him. Sonya was right, this guy was an asshole.

"Alright, Angela," Clark put his phone down and looked down at his watch on his wrist. "I need you to give me the reports for the cafe's expenses. And we have a few new rules that I have curated for the team."

He handed her a pamphlet with his hideous picture on it and the cafe behind him. She opened the pages and saw over twenty rules outlined in red.

"I was thinking of making my cafe run for twenty-four hours," he said.

"Excuse me," Angela gaped at him.

"You can decide what days you want to work since Sonya joined later," he explained.

"Clark, let me stop you right there," she said. "We need more employees if you are going to go through with this."

Clark crossed his arms as he leaned on his table. "I'll consider it," he said. "But for the first few weeks, let's run the cafe for the entire night."

"No, Clark," Angela said. "Sonya and I are already drowning in work at the cafe. We open and close all by ourselves."

"What do you want from me?" Clark said.

"Hire more employees!" Angela demanded.

He got to his feet and towered over her. "I see what you're doing," he lowered his tone. "You think by undermining me that you'll run this cafe."

Angela glared up at him. "I'm not doing anything, Clark," she explained.

Clark raked his choppy brown hair. "Alright," he smiled down at her as he put his hand on the wall behind her. "If you go on a date with me, I'll do what you want."

Angela couldn't believe this man right here. "Clark, step back," she warned.

"Come on, you know you want to," he leaned down towards her before he grabbed her arm in his meaty grip.

"Let me go," Angela snapped.

Clark scoffed before he tried to kiss her, but Angela had enough. Just like her dad taught her, she rammed her knee into his groin. He toppled back groaning out in pain.

"You bitch!" he yelled as his face turned bright red.

"You're the bitch around here," she ripped off the apron from her body. "And before you fire me, I quit!" Angela threw the apron at his face and stormed out of there.

Sonya was already standing at the door with her hat and apron off. She held two cups of coffee and pastries in a bag, with their purses hooked over her arms.

"That was amazing," Sonya praised.

Angela took her purse. "Let's go," she fumed.

"Hold on-" Sonya went over the office- "I quit too, Clark!" She returned in a hurry and they both walked out of the cafe together.

They got in the car together and drove home with Angela fuming about Clark trying to kiss her. Sonya cursed at the man and hoped he will fall off a cliff. They returned home and parked on the driveway before they sat on the steps in front of the porch. The massive maple tree on their lawn was dropping red and orange leaves on the green grass, as the slight breeze carried the crisp scent easing her anger.

But the weather was the last thing Angela should be admiring. They both just lost their jobs. What were they going to do now?

"Why'd you quit?" Angela said worriedly. "What will you do?"

"I only worked there because of you," Sonya said. "Besides, we can get a job anywhere."

"And work for another Clark," Angela despised.

"I'd rather die," Sonya groaned as she enjoyed a croissant. "What should we do?"

"I don't know," Angela said.

Life was already hard enough paying bills and mortgages, then people made it harder by giving their unwanted attitude all the damn time. Angela hated living this way and needed a change.

"How about this?" Sonya turned towards her with excitement in her eyes. "Let's open our own cafe."

Angela's ears perked with attention. "Our cafe," she liked the sound of that. "You and I. Together."

"We make the rules and we won't have to wear these dreadful uniforms," Sonya said.

Angela's mind already flared with so many ideas. "But how are we going to afford renting a place?" she reasoned. "Places in Brooklyn are expensive, Sonya."

"We can get a loan and I have some money saved up," Sonya said. "We can do this."

Angela had her parents' life insurance that she never touched. Perhaps, she found what she could use it for now. "Let's do it," she said.

"We can look for a place tomorrow," Sonya said.

Angela smiled at her friend. "We should celebrate for starting a new chapter," she said.

"We can order pizza and watch a movie," Sonya suggested and she let her hair loose from the tight bun.

"I was thinking more along the lines of wearing cute dresses and going out," Angela suggested.

"There's this club that everyone's raving about," Sonya said. "The Underworld."

"Never heard of it," Angela said.

"Then let's check it out tonight," Sonya suggested.

The ladies returned inside once they finished their coffees and snacks to get ready for their long-awaited night out.

-Trez Luciano's POV-

The place where no one slept. The infamous Underworld nightclub was run by the Luciano brothers.

Although, within the thousands of humans and wolf shifters, bright laser lights, music and endless drinks, Trez Luciano didn't find any of it remotely interesting. He stood in his office on the top floor far away from the crowd in his nightclub.

Peering down the tinted glass allowed him access to the entire club. He could see everyone drinking away their misery, but none of them could see him. If they looked up at the glass, they only saw a thick black wall. So, as Trez stood by himself, he tipped the glass of whiskey in his hand and silently watched the crowd below his feet dance their misery away.

If only it was that simple, he thought.

Countless days and nights passed without any rest for him. Work took most of his time and distracted him from the fact that he couldn't sleep anymore. He paid millions for a house that was a place fit for a king, but he couldn't remember the last time he went home. He stayed at the club most of the time. Building a bedroom here was probably mistake since he could just shower and clean up here as well. He didn't know why he didn't go home, but deep in his gut he knew the answer. That house was empty and echoed his own misery to him like a godforsaken reflection of his past.

Trez set the glass aside. He turned away from the view as the ache behind his eyes grew. Maybe it was the endless nights or the strong whiskey that churned his stomach, but he wasn't amused by anything at all anymore. Trez grew irritated from the pounding walls, blasting lights and the smell of tobacco and took a seat. But he held his annoyance back and returned to his work like he always had, otherwise his mind drowned in memories that haunted his every waking moment.

However, through the haunted memories, only one thought brought him any sort of comfort. Angela Moretti. That woman was dangerous to him, because he found himself surrendering everything he had to her. He never sought mercy from anyone, but Angela consumed him. Just thinking of her now eased the throbbing ache in his head, like ice melted over a fire.

She was an angel and everything he told himself he couldn't have. He knew that if he touched her, he'd only tarnish her purity. He'd be a gentleman and stay away from her... But deep down, that carnal predator in him yearned to take her into his dark world and show her what made him so dangerous.

He still remembered when he met her, it was a day that he'd never forget. At a cafe, she was the one making his coffee. All he needed to know that she was his. While she stared at him with an innocent smile, he memorized the rich gold mixed with the emerald green that swam together creating the most gorgeous pair of eyes he'd ever seen. They were surrounded by an auburn ring of lashes. Her honeyed skin was lightly dusted by golden flecks which only made her his darkest fantasy. Trez could taste her sugared scent, that was as sweet as cream and juicy strawberries. Fuck, he could tear off her clothes and mark her to him. He needed to bind her to his wolf and never let her leave them. The curve of her neck was free, only a thin golden chain hung around her throat and the pendant disappeared between her breasts. Now, he couldn't stop himself from seeking her out. Even a few hours ago when he visited the cafe and sought her out.

The door to his office opened and his younger brother strode into the room. Axe Luciano was towering in an expensive suit with weapons on every part of his body, but the weapons weren't what made him dangerous. Axe was a trained fighter who spent his life in cage-fights with Trez. Both of them at a young age quickly became prized fighters who dominated the cage. They were dangerous on their own but a deadly force together. No one could touch them and they made sure it stayed that way.

"You went to that cafe again," Axe said, his tone disapproving. He didn't like that Trez went there without guards; he considered it reckless and idiotic.

Trez didn't disagree but he couldn't hold himself back. He already conquered the world and all the money one could possibly own. Angela Moretti was all he could find worth being alive for now. It was the only way he could find the breath in his lungs to keep going.

"What's the update on Fletcher Boyd?" he said changing the subject.

Axe crossed his bulky arms which strained the holster around his broad shoulders. "We killed everyone on his team and have him in custody," he answered, but he clearly wasn't happy that his brother didn't address the cafe situation.

Trez got to his feet and grabbed his jacket off the chair, putting his arms through the sleeves, he went up to his brother who moved to the side. They both left to the basement under the club and a massive vicinity was exposed. This was where Trez ran his operations and other work that didn't need the prying eyes of society or the law interfering.

They crossed the long corridor made of concrete where his trained guards were stationed. They bowed to him as he passed. They reached the last room in the hall, Axe pushed open the door and a fat man sat in a tan suit on a chair. The blood from his nose and mouth dripped all over the thick golden chains around his beefy neck.

"You're going to pay for this," Fletcher slurred.

"Shut up, fatso," Wade Volkov slammed his fist into the man's face making him cry out in pain. He was in the team Axe created. Wade was the one with the most spirit in a fight. He was cruel and always used his fists because he preferred a long fight rather than shooting his prey on the spot.

Unlike his older brother Darius Volkov who stood silently in the back of the room watching his brother beat the shit out of Fletcher. Darius was a man of no words. His actions spoke for him. But Trez knew that both these brothers were loyal to him and they'd do anything to get the job done.

Both of them were tall and broad-shouldered in tailored suits with dark black hair, they were practically twins, but Wade had blue eyes while Darius had green, it was the easiest way to tell them apart. Otherwise, they both had deadly looks on their faces as they were always ready to kill. Trez met them in the cage fights and he bought out their indenture. The brothers served Trez since then.

"That's enough, Wade," Trez said as he sat on the chair across Fletcher.

"Luciano," Fletcher groaned. "You fucking bastard."

Trez crossed his leg at the knee. "It didn't have to come to this, Fletcher," he said calmly. "All you had to do was sign your territory to me and you'd get to live."

"I can't do it," Fletcher said as his wrinkled face tensed with fear. "They'll kill me."

Trez frowned. "You shouldn't worry about others right now, Fletcher," he said.

"Why are you doing this?" Fletcher astonished. "Isn't what you have enough?"

"No," Trez answered.

Fletcher shook his head. "You don't understand," he insisted. "You can kill me and take my territory, but that area is under the protection of the Red Circle."

Axe looked at his brother warily because they knew that name too well. The Red Circle was a secret organization that ran in different parts of the world. They were the main dealership that smuggled wolves and put them in cage fights. This dangerous syndicate was run by unknown assailants and no one knew where they were or who they were. However, Trez didn't give a fuck who these people were. They were in his way of conquering his territory and he'd get rid of them one by one if they caused him any fucking trouble.

"You won't kill me," Fletcher said. "I have information that you need-" Trez got his feet and reached around his waist to the glock hooked to his pants. He pulled it out and shot Fletcher in the head three or four times, until the bastard fell back and toppled onto the floor dead.

"You know, we could've used him," Axe reasoned.

Trez was already on the edge of losing his mind. "I don't care," he grumbled as he put the gun back. "Get rid of his body," he ordered Wade and Darius. "And I want his territory completely cleared before nightfall."

"You got it, boss," Wade and Darius answered.

Axe was reluctant to give in but he knew that he had to admit to his brother's orders. He would get everything done within the hour. But it was clear from the way Axe stared at Trez with his stern blue eyes that he wanted to tell Trez to stay the hell away from that cafe.

Trez left the room and Axe followed. "I know what you're thinking," Axe said sternly.

"I was thinking that you're starting to get on my nerves, baby brother," Trez remarked as he went to the stairs.

"You can't keep going to that cafe," Axe said irritably. "It can get dangerous for the civilians there if our enemies learn of your visits."

Axe wasn't wrong, but Trez couldn't fucking help it. He clenched his jaw and knew that he should leave her and be somewhere as far as possible, but his feet didn't obey his command. Trez hasn't been able to close his eyes without seeing her beautiful eyes and her kissable lips. But he shoved all the desires in him far away deep inside him so he wouldn't lose control. He wasn't going to touch Angela Moretti, it was the reasonable choice. But since when did Trez do anything rational. He didn't build his empire on reason.

A few hours passed with work keeping Trez occupied...

Axe cleared Fletcher's territory and had it under his control with their own armed guards stationed there now. Everything was claimed at the property for the Luciano's to own now. The news reporters were quick to cover the story about gang-leader Fletcher Boyd's death, which was masked as a heart attack and he passed away at the hospital. Everyone knew that wasn't the truth, but the police department didn't want to cause havoc.

Axe, Wade and Darius walked into Trez's office together.

"The job's complete," Axe informed.

Wade sat down on the black leather couch with Darius who stood behind him silently. "Why did you want that guy's property anyway?" Wade asked as he poured himself a drink.

"I'm going to build another club there," Trez answered as he leaned back on the chair and faced his team.

"We're franchising," Wade astounded before he turned to Axe. "Did you know?"

"Of course, I knew," Axe answered.

"We should probably get rid of the blood on the walls," Darius chimed in.

Wade chuckled. "Let's leave the blood," he voiced. "It adds character."

Trez shook his head not being to understand these two brothers. But they were alone when they were born and had to fight everyone on the streets to make themselves something. He admired their bond.

"I'm going to build it all again," Trez told them as he imagined a lavish nightclub that was better than this one. He wanted that club to be a palace where only the exclusive and powerful were allowed to enter.

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. "Come in," Trez announced.

A guard opened the door. "Detective Reyes is here again, sir," he informed.

"What does he want?" Axe grumbled.

"That man doesn't quit," Wade said with a smirk like he was impressed.

"Bring him in," Trez ordered and the guard left.

"What are you doing?" Axe questioned his brother.

"Showing hospitality," Trez remarked.

Moments later, Detective Raphael Reyes appeared at the door and the guard left him with Trez and the others. The detective stood proudly and in all-black with a leather jacket over his collared shirt that was left unbuttoned allowing those tattoos to peek through it. His badge strapped to his belt and he kept his black hair neatly raked back and short to fit his occupation. However, there was a stark honour in his blazing gold eyes that irritated Trez. Detective Reyes held himself above the men in this room because he followed the law and did things the right way.

"To what do we owe the pleasure, Detective?" Trez questioned.

Raphael held his hands crossed together in front of him and his feet squared, which was clearly learnt from the military. "Fletcher Boyd died this morning," he announced as his eyes stayed locked onto Trez; they never faltered.

"May god rest his soul," Trez mocked.

"Do you know how it happened?" he asked.

"I heard it was a heart attack," Trez answered indifferently.

"He was shot in the head and then dumped in an alley," Detective Reyes said. "That leaves me to wonder who could kill one of the most feared gangsters in Brooklyn."

Trez smirked. "Perhaps, his sins caught up to him," he said.

"Be careful, Mr. Luciano," Detective Reyes said sternly. "You're treading in dangerous waters."

"Is that a threat?" Trez gritted out.

"A warning," he corrected. "Fletcher Boyd drops dead and your men are all over his territory. He owned part of this city that was under the reign of the Red Circle-"

"I've heard-" Trez sighed as he rolled his eyes.

"Now, that he's dead, the Red Circle will come after whoever killed him and took his territory," Detective Reyes warned.

Trez got to his feet and put his hands in his pockets. "That's strange, it sounds like you're trying to protect me, Detective."

Raphael stiffened and his eyes hardened as he looked at the others now, his eyes lingering on Wade before he peeled them away like he was ashamed of himself. "I won't lie and say that Fletcher wasn't a criminal and didn't deserve what he got," he said.

Trez smiled at him. "Do you need anything else, Detective?"

"No, I just needed to confirm my doubts," he said before he turned and left the room.

A silence fell in the room as Trez leaned back on his table, grabbing his drink that he desperately needed. So much interference was annoying as hell, he thought to himself.

"That cop is trouble," Axe said.

"Should we kill him?" Darius spoke then.

"He's harmless," Wade intervened.

Trez agreed with Wade. Detective Reyes was a good cop and genuinely cared for the city and the people. He's not something that can be bought by money or other pleasures. He served the good side and would continue to do it until his end.

"Tail Reyes," Trez ordered Wade. "I need to know he won't run off and start investigating us." Wade got to his feet and cracked his neck. "If Reyes gets too close, get rid of him."

Wade's wicked blue eyes brightened like the grin on his lips. "Happily," he said before he left the office.

"What are we going to do about the Red Circle?" Axe asked. "They're probably looking for all of us now."

Trez always knew that the moment he chose this life that he'd be a target. People in high-society detested nothing more than a poor orphan getting more power than them. Many demons that hid in the shadows were ready to destroy Trez but he had to be prepared for it. His life was dangerous and he couldn't risk losing his focus.

"Gather as much intel as you can on the Red Circle," Trez ordered. "I need to know who's in that organization."

"You got it," Axe said as he left with Darius.

Trez stood alone now. He went over to the black glass wall overlooking his club that was his territory to protect. He'd never let anyone touch this place with an evil eye because he was always ready for a fight. This club was the proof of that. However, his desires swayed. As his territory grew, he wished for something more. Rather than focusing on the mission, his mind trailed back to the woman in his dreams. He didn't want to go kill his enemies until his path cleared of any hindrance. He only desired to drop everything here and go to one who called to the wolf inside him and won his heart.

Would this attraction cause his demise or save him? 

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