Chapter 1;

"End!" A voice shrill as ice.

Xander panted heavily, his chest heaving down, as damp sweat trickled down his chin, until it landed along his jaw.

A figure walked up to him, handing him a bottle of water, "Young Master." He performed a curt bow.

The cork of the bottle flew across the room, and Xander chugged it down, gazing at his opponent who sprawled on the floor, blood oozing freely out of his body, his jaw was broken, and his legs were coupled together, as one who had been electrified.

Xander gazed disdainfully at the figure. "Get him away!"

"Yes," The figure, whose name was Lucas said, as he walked towards the already crippled man who sprawled on the floor, sustaining his wounds.

"Please." The man on the floor finally said. "I am sorry, have mercy. Please."

Xander scoffed, his eyes blaring with anger. "You said you would beat me in a duel? Am I the one begging for mercy now?" He scoffed.

"I was wrong, I really was. Please forgive me." He begged.

"You can never outgrow your master, Zane." Xander said, his voice, chilling as ice. "Take him away."

"Yes." The figure was hauled away forcefully, as his feet screeched on the floor, Xander breathed in, gazing around his boxing room, he heaved a sigh, for ten years, he had been a mafia king, he had trained hard, much to the expectations of his father, he had been outstanding, cold as ice, and never let anything got through his ways.

He and his mother had moved to London when he was nearly nine, his father had trained him, brought out the beast in him, tortured him for making any mistake, he remembered, when he punched those useless bags hard, every single day, just so he could manage his fighting skills.

His father would be by his side, muttering a few words. "Damn Xander, add more effort, else.."

He would punch harder, the sweat trickling down his face, as he mercilessly punched the bag, his breath rowdy as usual.

"That’s it Xander. You are doing it great." his father would tuck his shoulders, and he would feel tensed, his shoulders quivering.

"Think of a strategy Xander to ward off your enemies, imagine, that it is the person you hate, take all your anger and imagine that your enemy was the person you hated most."

His father’s words had trickled down his ears.

And, when he fought off his enemies, he thought of the only person he hated most, and that was Nicole Hart, the woman he hated, the woman he so much hated. For unreasonable reasons, he had hated her, maybe because she was always trying to outsmart her, in nursery, she was quiet. She never talked, she was always mute.

He had hated her, when he was just five years old, they attended the same school, they never talked to anyone, and even when they talked to themselves, it was filed with so much harbor, dread, dark and shrill.

Was hating someone natural? Xander didn’t care to find out, because he had hated Nicole ever since he was little, naturally, and when they travelled to London, he had never been more glad, he hadn’t seen her for the past nine years, whether she was okay, single or whatsoever, he didn’t give a damn about her life.

But, he was grateful for one thing, thanks to her, he killed his enemies in a go, without looking back, he chuckled to himself, walking out of his fighting room and down to his living room. He sat on the couch, his hands resting lazily on the liner. "Lucas,"

Lucas ran to him, his inky dark sweeping off his face, his muscles was firm, and his face hard, but never less, he looked hot.

"Is Zane hurt?" He asked, gazing at Lucas.

Lucas sighed, his face squishing together,

"He only broke a few bones from the fight, I am sure he will be okay, if you grant him time to rest."

Xander sighed. "Let him rest, don’t hurt him."

Lucas nodded his head, casting a look full of gratitude to him, Zane was his younger brother, they had been both homeless, when Xander's father came through, he had helped them out of the cruel hands of the streets, he had given them food, care, but, he had trained them alongside with Xander since they were nearly the same age. Lucas was faster, and smart, he was gentle and only spoke when needed.

While on the other hand, Zane, his brother was nearly two years younger than Lucas was lousy, demanding he could beat Xander in a duel, and he had only ended up getting crushed. And, because of Xander’s love for the brothers, he had requested special time for Zane to heal.

"You can leave." Xander said, his voice full of power.

Lucas gave a nod and disappeared away.

"Young Master, your mother just pulled in." His men gathered around him, he waved his hands in dismissal.

"Xander. Where are you?" A feminine voice boomed across the room, and a woman walked in, her dark hair tied to her back. She gazed at the whole place, before her gaze landed on Xander.

"How have you been?" She took a seat, letting out a heavy sigh. "You look stressed."

"I am not stressed." His sharp gaze landed on his mother.

Camilla, his mother leaned on the chair, her eyes shutting for a while. "You seem to have been part of London, don’t you want to go back to New York, the weather’s nice there and maybe,"

"Don’t." he said, and Camilla gazed elsewhere.

Maybe, you could have a spark with Nicole.

The words every time hurt his brain so much, why would his own mother suggest Nicole? He hated her, yet anytime she came, it was always about her. It was frustrating.

"Sorry," she peered down. "But, I think there are things we should talk about."

"Like what?" He tilted his head across the chair, those dark eyes which he inherited from his mother sparking, she gazed at him back, dark and dark eyes, in contact.

"Marriage plans?"