His Innocent Sera

NINE YEARS LATER

The skyscrapers of Italy lined the horizon, challenging the birds' sovereign claim to the sky. Ambition carved in steel and glass, those shimmering buildings stood tall as a testament to their owner's power and force. The shadow they casted over the city wasn't just physical. It was an inspiring sight- the one that would make a dreamer dream bigger, a hustler grind harder, a conqueror reach for higher. And amidst this city of power and influence, his building soared above the rest, not merely challenging but owning the sky.

"Nate, Erlando is here," Dave announced. Nate looked away from the view and turned around to face Dave, who stood waiting for his response. Dave had grown accustomed to his cold, unfeeling eyes now. The only spark ever lit them was pure, seething rage, that too was a rare occurrence. It was as though she had shut off every emotion in him before leaving. If he was bad before, he was now something far more terrifying.

"Bring him inside," Nate said, making his way to the chair. Dave left. Nate claimed the chair, aka his throne, that marked his supreme authority over the entire Italy. It was his Kingdom, his empire, where mercy was a forgotten myth. Where rebels were crushed and enemies were slaughtered with utmost brutality.

"Ciao, Signor Serano," Elrando greeted as he walked in. His mouth curling into a half smile that conveyed anything but goodwill.

Nate turned his gaze upon him. Silver eyes studied the visitor with unconcealed disdain, but only a fool would miss the menace lurking beneath them.

"Bueno Dias, Elrando," Nate responded, a cocky smirk found its way on his lips. It was a tight slap wrapped in a formal greeting. A Spanish man seated on Italy's throne- nothing wounded Italian mafia lords' ego more than this. The edges of Elrando's smile grew stiff, suggesting he had hit a nerve.

"Must be a good reason you're here," Nate mocked before offering him a seat.

"As you already know, we've seized your multiple shipments. Now we're offering peace. Hand over your two warehouses, and we'll consider it settled," Elrando proposed, eyeing him with keen interest.

Nate didn't look serious, if anything, he looked amused.noveldrama

"So you came all the way here to blackmail me. What made you think I am up for negotiation?" Nate questioned. A flicker of frustration crossed Elrando's face. His calm demeanor was infuriating.

"You have no choice. We've got your shipments and your men," Erlando reminded him but Nate just stared back, calm and composed, like none of it mattered.

"Where have you hid your bastard of a leader?" Nate asked in a mocking tone. Bruno had vanished ever since he cracked down on his gang.

"My dad isn't a bastard. He is our pride," Erlando remarked, looking affronted.

"Your dad is a top-tier bastard who uses his children for a shield. He fled at the first chance he got and left you behind to clean after his mess. That bastard sent you to die and you walked right into it," Nate declared.

"I'll die for my dad if I have to," Erlando stated firmly. Nate was amused. He leaned back in his chair asserting his dominance without uttering a word.

"I appreciate your guts. If only your dad thought the same..." Nate remarked, his gaze assessing every subtle shift in his expression as he called, "Agnes Lopez... The woman you loved," Nate added, causing Erlando's breath to hitch.

He watched him closely as he revealed, "your dad killed her." Erlando was visibly astounded.

"That's not true," Erlando denied but his voice didn't sound firm as usual. Nate glanced over at Dave who stepped forward and showed him all the evidence. Of course, they didn't tell him Agnes Lopez was a spy who had honeytrapped him. Nate watched him closely, certain he had him now.

"I want revenge," Erlando growled, his eyes burning with fury. Nate smirked.

"Of course," Nate said, before shifting his gaze to Dave and said, "serve him our finest wine. He is an ally now." Dave did as told. Nate

Nate lit a cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating the sharp lines of his face. He exhaled slowly before speaking again."Your revenge is ours now. Tell me, where's Bruno?" A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes as he added, "And the Crowned Trinity."

Eversince he claimed the throne, the possession of crowned trinity had been one of his goals. The Crowned Trinity wasn't just a collection of

им

firearms, it was a legend forged in steel. Each weapon was worth bittions, not merely for its craftsmanship, but for the blood, history, and power it represented. These weren't guns; they were symbols of absolute dominance. Nathaniel Serrano already ruled Italy. But the moment the Trinity will grace his hands, there would be no debate, no rebellion, no whispers in back alleys. The message would echo through every gang, every city, every empire that Nathaniel Serrano is not just a king. He is the King.

The Trinity was preserved in a museum until Bruno stole it, and since then, he had kept it hidden somewhere.

"Dad is living in London and only he knows about the Crowned Trinity," Erlando revealed. That was all Nate needed to know. He told him to release his men and shipment which Erlando agreed to do.

"What are you planning to do now?" Dave asked as soon as Erlando left.

"Inform the pilot. I am flying to London tomorrow," he said.

Nate returned to his empty house, laced with all imaginable luxury yet lacking warmth. He lived alone in this vast mansion, a masterpiece of architecture and sophistication. Every inch of it spelled affluence and refinement. Vaulted ceiling adorned with chandeliers, floors covered with deluxe carpets, rare art pieces hanging across the walls- the

residence exuded unrivaled

grandeur. Surrounded by woods,

nestled in the lap of nature, he had

purposefully chosen this spot for his

abode.

He would come here only to spend the night. The relentless nights that would

offer him no mercy, no warmth.

The maids flitted around him on

their toes, waiting for his next command as he ate his meal in silence. But he rarely ever interacted with them. They knew their job and only bothered him when unavoidable. After dinner, he entered his room. A wave of room freshener

hit his nostrils as he opened the door, but it was nothing like the scent he longed for. He met a cold,

sterile space that mirrored the emptiness of his heart. Contray to other parts of the mansion, his room's walls were bare and unadorned. The space unmarked by any presence. Too organized for someone actually living in it, as if it existed in a state of perpetual stillness, untouched by life and happiness.