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The world had changed.

Or maybe, they had changed it.

Damien, once a prince in the underworld, was now the King—unshakable, unstoppable, undefeated.

And Luca?

Luca had built his own empire.

Not just in the world of fashion, where his name carried weight among designers, models, and the rich who clamored for his custom-made pieces.

But also in the underworld.

A King in his own right.

Not by birthright. Not by being Damien's partner.

But because he had earned it.

With blood, sweat, and a hell of a lot of training.

The Luca of before?

The one who needed saving?

The one Damien constantly worried about?

Gone.

Luca had trained until he could hold his own. Until he could walk beside Damien, not behind him.

Until people whispered his name with the same fear and respect they gave to Damien.

And now?

Luca wasn't just the Mafia King's lover.

He was a force of nature.

They called him the Storm.

Because where Damien was controlled destruction, Luca was chaotic, unpredictable, and just as deadly.

Together, they were untouchable.

The headquarters had changed over the years.

A palace of power, draped in black and gold.

And at its heart—

Two thrones.

One for Damien.

And now, one for Luca.

Damien sat back, watching as Luca flipped a knife between his fingers, unimpressed by the man kneeling before them.

The poor bastard had made a mistake.

A big one.

And now he was begging.

Damien barely paid attention.

He was too focused on Luca.

How calm he was. How in control.

Damien had spent years protecting Luca, but now?

Now Luca had the power to protect himself.

And Damien loved it.

Because if the world thought Damien alone was terrifying—

They hadn't seen what they could do together.

"Luca," Damien murmured, smirking.

Luca met his gaze.

One look. That was all it took.

Luca turned back to the man trembling before them.

And smiled.

"Run," he whispered.

The man did.

But not fast enough.

Damien laughed.

Luca grinned.

The Kings had spoken.

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