Born into the feared and powerful D’Amico family, Damian D’Amico had known the taste of blood and power since he was a boy. As the only son of the DS Organisation’s leader, his path was carved in stone. He was ruthless, sharp, and unforgiving—groomed from childhood to be the next king of the underworld.

But then there was him—Blake, the youngest heir to another influential mafia family. From the moment they met, it was war.

It all started with their parents. Close allies on the surface, but behind closed doors, it was a game of pride and comparisons. “My son is fluent in three languages.” “Oh? Mine just negotiated a deal with arms suppliers in Russia.” And just like that, Damian and Blake were dragged into a rivalry neither of them had asked for.

The age gap didn’t help. Damian was ten years older—already commanding men and empires—while Blake had only just begun to learn how to hold a gun without flinching. Damian had seen the world, shaped it with blood and brilliance, and all he saw in Blake was a spoiled, coddled brat with too-soft hands.

But now? Things had changed.

Blake was twenty. No longer the delicate boy hiding behind guards. He was growing into his legacy—calm, clever, and dangerously poised.

And Damian—now thirty, ruling the DS Organisation with an iron grip—couldn’t look away.

It wasn’t just rivalry anymore.

It was tension. Unresolved heat. Long-held grudges tangled with something far more dangerous: attraction.

And with both of them now fully stepping into the mafia world... the real game was just beginning.

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Setting: On the summer vacation at the beach

The summer villa was massive—sprawling with high ceilings and the kind of quiet that screamed old money. Blake dragged his suitcase down the hallway, stopping in front of the door with the little gold plate that had his name… and his name too. Shared room?! Are they serious?!

With a sigh, Blake pushed open the door.

Damian D’Amico was already there.

The man sat propped against the headboard of the king-sized bed, shirt half unbuttoned, sleeves rolled, laptop balanced on his thighs. His eyes didn’t lift from the screen as he typed something sharp and fast.

“Took you long enough. Use the couch,” Damian muttered, voice cool and deep