Chapter 28: Reaper

Darius leaned back into the sofa, one arm draped lazily over the armrest, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Interesting. You’re not bothered by the fact that I want the Wild Hounds. You’re bothered by why I want them. That tells me you’ve already accepted that I might actually be capable of taking control of them. Unlike your sister, it seems you have no doubts that I have what it takes to deal with gangsters."

Leo held his gaze. "I’ve dealt with all kinds of people in my line of work. I’ve negotiated with businessmen, politicians, smugglers, mercenaries, and more hardened gang leaders than I can count. But I’ve never met anyone quite as unsettling as you, Your Highness."

He folded his hands together and leaned forward. "Men who build organizations powerful enough to dominate an entire district usually leave a trail of blood behind them. That’s how these things work. But you..."

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "...you don’t look like a killer. You don’t carry yourself like one either, yet—somehow, you’re far more intimidating than most of the killers I’ve met."

Darius raised a brow, his smile deepening slightly. Leo continued.

"That’s why I’ve come to a conclusion. You’re not an ordinary person. The fact that you already knew where our headquarters was located proves that. You’re clearly connected to things people who aren’t part of this lifestyle should know nothing about, and you’re definitely not someone I’d be foolish enough to underestimate."

Rowan’s eyes shifted from Leo to Darius.

The fact that a gang leader was speaking this cautiously to the prince was unsettling in its own way. It was becoming increasingly obvious that the people in this room were seeing something in Darius that Rowan himself couldn’t fully understand yet.

Darius stared at Leo for a moment before letting out a quiet chuckle.

"You’re right," he admitted. "I’m not new to this lifestyle. The waiter job was nothing more than a front to blend into your district without attracting attention. I certainly didn’t expect to catch your sister’s eye, and I definitely didn’t expect to turn out to be some long-lost prince." His smile widened slightly. "Though I suppose those things ended up being rather fortunate surprises. They pushed several of my plans forward much faster than expected."

Leo watched him carefully.

"Who are you really, Your Highness?"

Darius’s fingers tapped lazily against the armrest. "Let’s just say I’m someone who doesn’t want anything standing between Prince Basil and the throne."

Rowan frowned immediately.

What did that even mean? Wasn’t Darius the legitimate prince? The moment he was found and acknowledged by the royal family, he automatically became the biggest obstacle standing between Basil and the throne.

Apparently, Leo had reached the same conclusion. "Aren’t you already doing that?" he asked. "The fact that you’ve been recognized as the real prince already makes you the number one person standing between Prince Basil and the throne."

"I’m not interested in the throne," Darius said flatly. "And I never will be."

The certainty in his voice left no room for argument. He waved a hand dismissively.

"Now, let’s get back to business."

His gaze settled on Leo. "As for who I am..."

A slow smile spread across his face. "In the underworld, I’m known as the Reaper."

The reaction was immediate. Leo’s eyes widened. Marcus’s head snapped toward Darius. The two men exchanged a stunned look. Across the room, Rosé gasped.

Rowan looked between them in confusion.

Why were they reacting like that?

He had never heard the name before, but judging by the expressions on their faces, Darius had just revealed something far more significant than a simple alias.

"You’re the Reaper?" Leo asked. "The same Reaper who’s been taking territories and forcing gang leaders to submit?"

Darius raised an eyebrow.

"Why? Do you find that hard to believe?"

"I’m afraid I do," Leo admitted. "Not only are you too young to be the Reaper, but the Wild Hounds haven’t done anything to provoke him, so..."

Darius lauged. "So you’re wondering which question to ask first? How I managed to achieve all that at my age, or why I’m suddenly interested in the Wild Hounds?"

"The latter will do," Leo said.

"Which means you already believe me. You just find it difficult to process." Darius leaned back comfortably. "Tell me, Leo. You’ve been working with the Prime Minister, haven’t you?"

Leo and Marcus exchanged a glance.

"How do you know about that?" Leo asked.

"It doesn’t matter how I know." Darius waved the question away. "What matters is that the Prime Minister intends to use the Wild Hounds to strengthen his influence around Prince Basil once Basil has a child with his daughter. From there, he’ll slowly push the royal family out of the center of power and move control into his own hands."

His eyes hardened slightly. "I won’t allow that to happen." Rowan glanced at Darius.

The more he listened, the more confused he became. What exactly had Prince Basil done for Prince Darius to earn this level of loyalty?

Because from the sound of things, Darius hadn’t started protecting Basil recently. He had been building influence, gathering power, and expanding underworld forces long before anyone knew he was a prince.

Leo exhaled slowly. "It seems our small greed for power has finally come back to bite us."

"Greed always does eventually," Darius said. "The difference is whether you’re lucky enough to survive when the bill comes due."

Leo rubbed his jaw.

"Fine. I’ll hand it over. But can I at least remain in charge of the Wild Hounds? I can’t abandon the people under me."

"Of course." Darius looked almost amused. "That was always the plan. Every gang I’ve taken over has kept its leader. I’m far too lazy to actually play gang leader myself."

"When will the handover happen?" Leo asked.

Darius looked at him.

"Why do I get the feeling you’re surprisingly eager to hand over your organization?"

Leo barked out a laugh.

"Because there’s no point fighting the Reaper. You’re already far too strong for us."

Darius chuckled. Then he rose to his feet.

The movement prompted everyone else in the room to stand as well. "I’ll let you know when the handover happens," he said. "I’m just glad I didn’t have to spill blood to make my point."

Leo nodded. "Thank you."

Then curiosity got the better of him.

"I still have to ask. How did someone your age accomplish all this?"

Darius smiled. "It’s a secret."

His gaze drifted toward Rosé. The smile widened. "Now it’s time for your sister to pay for her mistakes."

Rosé immediately stiffened.

Leo frowned.

"What are you going to do to her?"

"Just a slap on the wrist."

Darius turned toward Rowan.

"Rowan. Slap Rosé until her mouth splits."

The room froze. Rosé’s eyes widened.

Marcus stared. Even Leo looked caught completely off guard. Rowan hesitated.

How could His Highness order him to hit a woman?

Darius’s eyes shifted toward him. "What did I say about making me repeat myself?"

Rowan’s jaw tightened. Then he straightened and walked toward Rosé.

Rosé backed away immediately, until her back hit the wall. There was nowhere left to go.

The slap echoed through the room. Her head snapped sideways. A cry escaped her lips.

Blood appeared almost immediately at the corner of her mouth where the skin had split open. Rosé stared at Rowan in shock, one trembling hand rising to touch the wound.

Rowan stepped aside and looked toward Darius. Darius clicked his tongue.

The sound carried clearly through the room.

"Disappointing." He looked at Rowan.

"I thought it would take at least six or seven slaps before her mouth split. I guess you hit harder than I expected."

Rosé’s face turned white.

"Well." Darius adjusted his jacket. "Let’s go." 𝘧𝓇ℯℴ𝓂

He turned and headed for the door.

Back in the car, Rowan still couldn’t quite believe what had happened.

If Prince Basil knew how ruthless Prince Darius truly was, and how much he had done behind the scenes to clear a path for him, would he still think Darius was trying to take his place? The thought lingered as the city lights drifted past the windows. Up ahead, the warm yellow glow of a patisserie came into view against the darkness.

Rowan eased the car toward the curb.