Chapter 1
Not an Ordinary Evening
The club was dimly lit, its elegant interior illuminated by the soft glow of countless lights. Couples occupied the tables, lost in their own little worlds, while the low hum of conversations blended with the music playing in the background.
To anyone else, it was just another ordinary evening.
But to Lucian Voss Moratti, it was supposed to be a business meeting.
A contract for a new project was expected to be signed that night. It was a familiar setting, one where negotiations were conducted over expensive drinks and fortunes were built with a simple signature.
Yet something was different tonight.
His right-hand man, Marco, had been acting strangely throughout the evening. The older man's unusual silence and restless behaviour had not escaped Lucian's attention.
And Lucian Voss Moratti was not a man who overlooked details.
"Where are they? You know perfectly well that I don't like being kept waiting, don't you?" Lucian asked, his voice carrying a hint of impatience.
Marco hesitated before answering.
"Boss, I think they might have called off the meeting. Perhaps we should head home."
Lucian turned towards him, narrowing his eyes.
"Called it off? And you're only telling me this now?"
Marco said nothing.
That was enough to raise Lucian's suspicions.
As Lucian approached the club's entrance, his black Mercedes came into view. The family crest, proudly displayed on the vehicle, caught the light hanging above the entrance.
It was a symbol of the Moratti family—a name that commanded respect, loyalty and, above all, fear.
As the current heir to the Moratti family, Lucian had been raised to recognise the smallest changes in people's behaviour. He had built much of the Moratti empire from the ground up, learning through years of hardship that trust was a luxury few could afford.
And yet, the man sitting beside him was someone he had never thought to doubt.
Marco.
The same man who had taught him to read people, to recognise lies and to never let his guard down.
The same man who had become a father figure to him after his mother's death.
And now, that very man was hiding something from him.
"Marco," Lucian began as he settled into the back seat. "Are you hiding something from me?"
The elderly man glanced at him through the rear-view mirror.
For a brief moment, their eyes met.
Marco's eyes were reddened, his expression strained. It wasn't anger that showed on his face. It was something far worse.
Guilt.
The car continued through the quiet streets before eventually coming to a halt in a deserted alleyway.
Lucian frowned.
"Why are we here?"
Marco kept his eyes fixed on the windscreen.
"I'm sorry, but your father doesn't need you in the family anymore."
For a moment, Lucian simply stared at him.
The words took a few seconds to register, as though his mind refused to accept what his ears had just heard.
"What?"
Marco swallowed.
"Your father says he has a biological son to inherit the family estate. He doesn't want an adopted son interfering with his future."
He paused, his voice growing unsteady.
"Boss... I'm sorry. But you have to leave."
The words came out in one breath, delivered with a painful finality.
Lucian remained silent.
His father.
The man whose approval he had spent years trying to earn.
The family he had sacrificed so much for.
The empire he had helped build from almost nothing.
And all of it could apparently be taken away because he wasn't born into the family.
A biological son.
That was all it took.
Lucian slowly turned his gaze towards the window. His reflection stared back at him, but for the first time in a long while, he couldn't quite recognise the man looking back.
He could have questioned Marco. He could have demanded answers, or asked him to take him back and let him confront his father.
But what would be the point?
A man who had already decided that his son was replaceable was hardly someone worth begging.
Lucian finally opened the car door.
"Goodbye, Marco."
His voice was surprisingly calm.
"I hope we never have to see each other again. And... thank you for everything you've taught me."
He stepped out of the Mercedes, the same car he had bought with money earned through countless sleepless nights, endless weeks and months of relentless work.
He stood beside it for a moment, looking at the vehicle that had once represented everything he had worked for.
Now, it was simply another thing he would have to leave behind.
"Lucian..."
Marco's voice stopped him.
The older man looked at him through the open window, his expression filled with regret.
"I'll always be there for you. All you have to do is call. Just one call, and I'll come to protect you."
Lucian didn't turn around.
Perhaps those words would have comforted him once.
Perhaps, on another evening, he would have believed them.
But tonight was different.
He had just learned that even the people he trusted most could become strangers.
Marco finally drove away, the sound of the engine fading into the distance.
And just like that, Lucian Voss Moratti was left alone.
No family.
No home.
No place in the empire he had helped build.
Only the name he had carried for years—and the knowledge that he would have to find his own way forward.
It was not an ordinary evening after all.
