KINGMAKER.

Chapter: 2

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Eighteen Years Later:

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"Good morning, Boss," Bogo greeted as he entered the bedroom. He walked to his right and flicked on the light switch, flooding the room with blinding brightness from the chandelier. The magnificent bedroom, resembling something from a magazine page, reflected a wealth of vibrant colors. A cream-colored comforter covered the king-sized bed, complemented by a matching white quilt with gold embroidery framing the large windows overlooking the city.

To the left, an open bathroom showcased a large walk-in shower next to a marble bathtub. Glass doors on the opposite wall led out to a spacious balcony. On the far right, a walk-in closet resembled a mini boutique. Next to it, a fully stocked bar held a variety of liquor bottles. A tall bookshelf filled with books stood just off to the right. In the center of the room, facing the window, two large chairs stood. One was a high-backed throne, while the other was a simple leather recliner. Small tables flanked each chair. Shelves by the fireplace held art supplies.

A huge TV faced the king-sized bed, with the remote control resting on the entertainment center nearby. Bogo reached for the remote control and turned on the news channel. As the anchorwoman began her daily report, he walked over to the bar counter, adorned with tea lights and a coffee maker with sugar cups. He needed to make the Boss a cup of coffee, so he grabbed a mug from one of the cabinets and headed to the large, black wood and chrome coffee maker. While pouring the steaming brew, he stole a glance at the still-sleeping form. The Boss slept soundly with his back turned, bringing a smile to Bogo's face. He quickly returned his attention to the task at hand.

Just as Bogo picked up the mug to set it down on the bedside table, a knock came on the door. He placed the mug down without taking his eyes off the Boss. "Come in," he called, standing straight and facing the door.

With a soft swish, Dorian entered the room and closed the door behind him. "Good morning, Bogo," He greeted. His dark brown curls fell across his forehead, and his hazel green eyes sparkled in the light. He wore a white shirt and blue slacks, his shoes clicking against the floor as he approached Bogo.

The tall, well-built man turned to greet him. "Good morning, Dorian," he replied with a smile. "You're looking exceptionally fine this morning. Must be a good day."

Dorian lowered his head, smiling. "Isn't it too early for flattery? Unfortunately, it's not a good morning. There has been an incident..." His voice trailed off.

Bogo tilted his head, noticing Dorian's troubled expression. "What sort of incident?" he inquired, placing his arm on Dorian's shoulder.

Dorian shook his head. "One of my best men was killed last night," he sighed, running his hand through his hair. "There was an attack on the new warehouse in Barrow Street-"

"What?!" The sudden outburst from their now awakened Boss made both men turn towards the bed and quickly bow.

"Good morning, Boss!" they greeted together.

The Boss sat bolt upright, his face flushed with anger. "How many people are hurt?!" His booming voice made both men jump.

"Seven, Boss," Dorian muttered, their heads bent lower as they avoided looking into the man's eyes. They stared at the covers covering his body. "Six casualties, one death, Boss," Dorian added, trying to steady his voice. "It was quite a shock for us, Boss, and the attack was unexpected. I'm sorry, Boss."

"Who got killed?" the Boss demanded, glaring at Dorian.

"Maori, Boss."

Dirk growled deep in his throat, then stood without caution. He stumbled a bit, reaching for support, and began pacing. "Where's Jenson?"

Bogo answered as he rose from his bow. "In the hospital, Boss." Jenson had been caught in the crossfire during an attack last week, getting shot twice in the abdomen at close range.

"Eight years..." Dirk started through gritted teeth. "Eight fucking years I've run this operation smoothly, but all of a sudden, I'm getting hit from all angles!" His fists clenched, and his arms moved erratically as he spoke. "First, you come in here, acting like everything is under control, and now I hear about my second oldest employee being dead! How am I supposed to explain this?!" he yelled, turning towards them again. "Now listen to me very clearly, both of you. I don't care how you do it, but whoever is behind these attacks, I want their heads on my table in twenty-four hours... or else!" His voice dropped even quieter, matching the menace in his eyes. "I will make up with your heads. Do you understand?"

Dorian's eyebrows lifted, and he audibly gulped. "Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir," Bogo replied.

"Now leave," Dirk ordered, and as both men turned to walk out the door, he continued with a stern voice. "Make an appointment with Dr. Naam, and tell your men to get the cars ready. I'll be down in thirty minutes!" Dirk shouted.

Both men quickly bowed as the door slid shut behind them. They heard the click of the lock engaging before they were gone. Dirk let out a low growl, slamming his fists down on one of the small tables and scattering the glass top into little pieces. "God damn it!" he screamed, throwing his head back and clenching his jaw tight. He paced back and forth, his mind racing with thoughts of revenge and retribution. Rage bubbled up inside him, his breath hissing through his nose.

Turning away from the wreckage, he grabbed a packet of his special cigarettes from another drawer and lit one up. He then leaned heavily against the balcony railing, drawing deeply on the cigarette in an attempt to calm himself. After a moment, he exhaled slowly, watching the smoke dissipate into the air. His gaze wandered over his beautiful home as he rubbed his temples, reflecting on the events that led up to this day.

He had made two major decisions in his life. The first had been rejecting his mates on the night of his sixteenth birthday, and the second had been running away from home. He knew he had left heartlessly, abandoning everyone he cared for, but it was necessary. Without knowing the fates of the Alphas he had abandoned while they lay dying, running away was the only choice. What if they were dead? He would be hated not only by all the PackLands worldwide but also become an outcast. Running away was the only option left, and he took it. However, in doing so, he had entangled his destiny in a web of darkness. In a world ruled by Alphas, a runaway Pride like him had to blend in seamlessly, and that was exactly what he did. He found himself in the City of Qiemont, dealing with deliveries in the hopes of survival. It was a rough business but not impossible. Then he discovered that Qiemont was home to vampires, but he managed to blend in just fine.

Qiemont was ranked with Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, with only Alphas ruling the city. Betas kept the city free of troublemakers, while Omegas were protected at all times, hardly seen unless they were Mated. Qiemont was a beautiful city, with wide streets lined with elegant shops and restaurants. Sleek black marble skyscrapers sparkled like gems, and smooth asphalt roads gleamed in the bright sunlight. Tall parks and large gardens filled with colorful flowers adorned the city. However, beneath its beauty, the city harbored the world's dirtiest businesses, from illegal gambling rings to brothels. One could say that the city, as rich as it was, was not safe.

It was especially difficult when he had stumbled into the city, unwell and hopeless. Dirk had to survive. Survival in Qiemont for someone with nothing, like him, a runaway, meant death in two days. But on his third day combing the city for crumbs and scraps to feed on, he met Maori, a leader of one of the popular rings in Qiemont. Call it a curse or a blessing, but Maori took a liking to him. Maori saw a strength in him that he didn't know he possessed, even with his current condition. Maori gave him jobs, and soon he was running the streets, making deliveries for Maori.

This quickly paid his bills, got him a shabby but livable one-bedroom apartment, and took him off the dangerous streets. It provided him with food on his table and clean clothes on his shoulders. Maori's trust in him grew over time. He was now part of the pack, and Maori's pack was a powerful one. However, Maori was not the one who controlled the city. That was Domezio 'The Viper' Mandracchia. Domezio was a ruthless Alpha, always looking out for himself and his interests. He was feared by many, and even the laws were influenced by his wealth. Many people hated him because he had everything: the power to make or break lives and the wealth to spend on whatever he wanted. He owned all the rings in the city, and his wealth and power extended beyond Qiemont.

Dirk wanted all that for himself.

On one of his delivery runs, a car sped past him and splashed water all over his outfit. At nineteen, he was taller and more well-built than all the vampires in Qiemont. His true identity as a werelion remained unknown. The runner in the sports car who had splashed him was the daughter of The Viper, the man he had admired since hearing of his fame. The man who controlled the city.

"Oh, my, I am truly sorry. How much is your outfit? Here..." She reached into her purse, easily yanked out a wad of cash, and tossed it into his hands. Then she was gone.

Dirk knew he had to see her again, so he began asking questions. It wasn't long before he learned who she was and where she would often be found hanging out with friends and acquaintances. As the only daughter of The Viper, she had the world in the palm of her hand. Dirk started seeking her out. He may not have been rich, but he had his good physique to make up for it, and she agreed to this fact the first time she walked up to him in the dimly lit strip club and slid her slender hand into his shorts.

He heard her gasp, and from then on, a connection was formed. He saw love and a possible redemption from his cursed fate, while Floridia saw a well-endowed play toy. But Dirk didn't mind that one bit. He had plans. He wanted to get off the streets for good, and the only way he could do that was by making what he had with Floridia permanent if she would allow it, of course. So, they dated for two years. She became his first everything, and his emotions for her grew over time. However, Floridia was growing tired of him, and he knew that soon she would discard him and move on to the next best vampire in town. But during the time they dated, she had introduced him to her father, who saw what Maori saw. In a month, Domezio bought him off Maori, who claimed he owed him money.

Dirk didn't hold that against the man. Their friendship didn't waver. Either way, Maori still answered to Domezio, and now that Dirk worked directly under Domezio, Maori answered to him. Dirk trusted Maori as much as he did Domezio. Life improved. He lived well, partied, drove expensive cars, and got his hands dirty during those years, but it was all part of the job description.

At this point, his relationship with Floridia had hit a rocky bottom. The Viper's most trusted right-hand man betrayed him, and the bullet he left in Domezio's heart was what killed the great kingpin in the end. But before his death, being the loving and charming Pride that he was, Domezio adopted Dirk as his son. As a man without a son, and with a daughter who didn't care about his business, he willed all that he had to Dirk. This decision earned him many enemies to this day. The deal was sealed with Domezio 'The Viper' Mandracchia's blood, and Dirk became La Sala, the Kingmaker of the underground. A few challengers arose after Domezio's death, but when Dirk shifted for the first time and single-handedly ended the lives of fifty business partners in a single board meeting, he struck fear and respect into the hearts of many who dared to challenge or question his capacity in the future.

Floridia left the city shortly after her father's death and moved to another country with her then-boyfriend. She has not been heard from since.

Dirk knew he had enemies all around the world, but none had surfaced until recently when his warehouses began to be raided and attacked, and now his men were dying. If there was one promise he made and hoped to keep, it was the promise of protection to those who worked for him, both for them and their loved ones. And now he was failing to keep that promise.

He brought his cigarette to his mouth and frowned when he realized the light had gone out. Instead of relighting it, he tossed the cigarette into its case, shut the lid, and turned to his bathroom to clean up.

He had noticed some changes in his body recently, and Dr. Naam had promised him this wouldn't happen, but now it was. He had to see her, and she had better find a permanent solution to this problem.

Now was not the time to show any form of weakness.