The sun was already high above Budapest when Drake stepped out of the base's shadow. The people surrounding him stood in tight ranks, each gaze fixed on their leader. He was no longer the young, uncertain boy — now he was the living symbol of the Vasari clan's bloodline, the new lord of the city.
Drake closed his eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath of the heat-swollen air. The spirit of anger and revenge coursed through his veins, and everyone around him felt that flame. With a small gesture, he gave the order, and the command spread swiftly:"Tonight, every place linked to the Lazarus will be set ablaze. This is not just an operation — this is my introduction. Let them remember us. No mercy, only destruction."
The clan members stood silent for a moment, then as if they were a single entity, a growl and rage-filled shouts erupted from them all at once.
Drake stood at the edge of the city, and in the rising wind, illuminated by the dancing flames, he stood like a true prince — the face of vengeance and power, showing that the Vasari name was no longer a game.
The deep silence of the night was broken by the dull rumble of the Vasari clan's footsteps as they drew closer to the Lazarus's main base — a luxurious yet ominous nightclub, one of the most important meeting places in the city's underworld. The neon lights flickered dimly on the rain-soaked pavement as Drake halted his team in front of the door.
"Innocents out," he ordered grimly, then his gaze swept over the crowd before them. "I don't care about the fate of those here by chance, only those who serve the Lazarus family. Everyone else leave while you still can."
At the gate, they acted immediately. The guards quickly but not cruelly herded out the civilians sipping drinks or deep in conversation — among them not just simple partygoers but also the vulnerable and naive. The criminals, drug dealers, traitors, and loyal soldiers of the Lazarus, however, remained inside the dark, smoky interior, ready to face the flames of revenge.
Drake took a deep breath and then scanned the room for a moment. The old gilded walls, the soft velvet chairs, the filtered light, and the music underscored a world of endless danger — a world he was about to change forever.
"This night is a reminder of who's in charge here," he said in a low, threatening voice. "Let's begin."
With a single motion, he signaled, and the fire starters flashed out. Within minutes, the first flames ignited in the corners of the nightclub, choking smoke curled up from the gilded ceiling, and chaos slowly engulfed the space. Resistance was swift but futile. People raged trying to extinguish the flames, but the strict discipline of the Vasari clan swept everything away.
Drake strode toward the exit with his team as the initial blaze already encircled the entire building. He paused for a moment, his face touched by the moonlight piercing through the smoke.
"This is just the beginning," he said. "The entire underworld will learn that the Vasari clan doesn't joke around."
Amidst the raging flames, smoke, and chaos, Drake was already standing in another location — a dark corridor — facing a younger Lazarus member. Fear was etched on the man's face, but in his eyes something else flickered: desperate honesty.
"Please... don't kill me!" the man whispered, his voice hoarse from the smoke. "The whole attack wasn't because of you… It's because the Lazarus heir… is jealous of you. He's in love with Livia."
Drake listened motionless, his face expressionless as if he hadn't even heard the words. The tense silence of the moment was broken only by the crackling of the fire.
The man's body trembled as Drake slowly and deliberately pulled the trigger.
The shot whistled through the corridor, and silence returned once more.
Drake closed his eyes; his fingers still felt the coldness of the trigger, even though the shot had long been fired. It was the first time he had pulled it — the first time he had taken a life. Yet it was as if he himself had not been the one to pull that trigger.
That man... the desperation, the fear in his eyes... Still, what he said, the Lazarus heir's jealousy, the love... sounded ridiculous. Killing for a woman? For a woman he hadn't even seen?
Drake let out a bitter laugh to himself. This whole thing is an absurd soap opera, he thought as the mask of emotionless calm slid across his face. Someone dares to attack our clan because they're jealous over an imaginary love triangle...?
There was no pity in him. Only cold contempt. This world was not about romance. It was a fight. A survival.
And now he was part of it.
The firelight faintly reflected off the base's walls as the smell of smoke and ruins slowly mixed with the cool night air. The operation against the Lazarus clan was over, and though the destruction had dealt a deep wound beneath the city, the Vasari clan's base was now a vibrant, living center of events.
Drake stood quietly in the middle of the main hall, his face still holding the thrill and tension of battle. People gathered around him, their eyes shining with respect and admiration. He was no longer just their young heir — he was their leader, capable of defending the family's honor and steering the bloodline with a firm hand.
Giorgo Vasari stepped forward, his shoulders carrying the weight of centuries of experience, his eyes glowing with pride. His voice rang deep through the room:
"His name is Drake, and not by chance. Tonight, he proved that a new era of the Vasari clan begins with him. He does not fear the fight, nor does he run from responsibility. This is the strength of our bloodline. Keep it up, my grandson."
The others began to applaud, louder and louder, more fervently. A faint smile appeared on Drake's face, but inside he felt the fight was far from over. This was only the first battle.
As the noise slowly died down, Drake was left alone for a moment with his thoughts. Moonlight cast a pale glow across his face, and he only thought that although he had won today, the darkness of the city...
Still deep and dangerous. But he was no longer the child who hid in fear. He was the Prince of Vasari — and he would live, fight, and rule as such.
At the Moretti Family Manor
Under the light of a gilded crystal chandelier, Livia gazed out the window of the family's living room when a quiet opening of the door broke her thoughts. Her mother entered, her face tense — she immediately knew something was wrong.
"Livia, have you heard?" the woman spoke softly as she sat down in the armchair. "Drake Vasari — only fifteen years old, yet already acting with a confidence we didn't expect. Tonight, he set one of the Lazarus clan's most important bases on fire. That's his message to everyone."
Livia's heart skipped a beat. The name — Drake Vasari — had never left her mind. She had never seen a single picture of him, yet as her mother spoke, a deep emotion stirred inside her. Not fear, but excitement and a strange attraction. A boy becoming a man so young, unafraid to make the hardest decisions. One who doesn't hesitate to protect what he loves.
"I didn't know someone so young could be so determined…" she whispered almost to herself.
"That's right, Livia. He's no longer just a child. He has become the living symbol of the family. And maybe he's the one who will finally protect us all." Her mother's words only strengthened the feeling that this unknown young man was something special.
Livia turned back to the window and almost saw before her the dark, confident figure who had become the city's new lord. Slowly, something began to build inside her heart — a kind of hope that he might be the key to change.
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Hello everyone, I am the writer, what do you think, should I continue the novel? A little encouragement would be nice if you are interested in Drake's story :) I will listen to any useful advice, write in the comments, thanks :)
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