Freddy’s POV

The waves crashed in the distance, a steady rhythm that matched the pulse of the life I had built. We sat on the large terrace of my estate, the sun casting long shadows over the glass table filled with drinks. Ricardo Vasquez, Nikolai Petrov, Salvatore Moretti, and Desmond were all here, my closest allies—the men I trusted with my life.

The conversation had started lightly, just talk of business and recent dealings, but my mind wasn’t fully there. I found myself staring off toward the horizon, my fingers lightly tapping against my whiskey glass, lost in thought.

My empire. My son. Aliana.

These three things define me now....