Leonardo di Santis stood at the base of the grand marble staircase, his eyes fixed on the mansion looming before him. The sprawling Volkov estate was every bit as imposing as its reputation suggested—a blend of Russian aristocratic grandeur and modern luxury, its façade illuminated by soft golden lights that spilled across the manicured gardens. A sweeping driveway curved toward the entrance, lined with towering pine trees that seemed to stand like sentinels guarding the secrets of the family's illustrious past.

As he studied the mansion's intricate architecture, Leonardo’s jaw tightened, the familiar glint of controlled anger flashing briefly in his dark eyes. He had faced many adversaries in his life, but none had managed to twist the blade so deeply as Viktor Volkov. The old man’s voice echoed in his mind, the veiled threats and carefully chosen words replaying like a bitter melody. It wasn’t often that someone dared to use leverage against him, let alone succeed. But Viktor had found the one weakness even he could not shield—his brother, Salvatore.

Leonardo’s hand clenched around the polished handle of his walking cane, a simple yet elegant accessory that matched the tailored lines of his black suit. The fabric clung to his broad shoulders, emphasizing his powerful build and lending an aura of quiet menace to his otherwise composed appearance. His expression remained impassive, betraying no hint of the seething resentment that lay beneath the surface. This arrangement, this alliance by marriage, was a maneuver of necessity rather than desire—a chain draped in the guise of opportunity.

He exhaled slowly, steadying himself before crossing the threshold. The heavy double doors swung open as he approached, and a servant in a crisp uniform bowed slightly, ushering him inside with all the deference one might show to royalty.

"Mr. di Santis, welcome," the butler intoned, his voice carrying a hint of an accent. "Mr. Volkov is expecting you in the study."