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[ On the night of September 10]

In someplace in Europe.

Francesco de Medici was the twenty-seventh head of the glorious House of Medici. He was a direct descendant and heir to one of human history\'s most famous family names.

The de\' Medici Dynasty, which created the Italian Renaissance, symbolizes unparalleled historical contributions to art, politics, banking, cuisine, medicine, accounting, philanthropy, commerce, geography, agriculture, religion, textiles, and fashion.

But now, most of it was forgotten; he had to live in shadows under a false identity. Although money was not a big problem, it can never be compared to what the family had in the past. He often lamented his ancestor for losing everything over pointless feuds and silly pride.

He had a personality to adapt to any situation; that was how he made what he currently had. His father lived a modest life, but he could never have been satisfied with it.

He pursued excellence; perhaps it was in a questionable direction, but at least he had success and the power he could leave behind for his two sons.

" Someone disposed of that kid? Hahaha, good, good."

" Sir, it is a big problem. They would try to connect it to us." Antonio Salviati was the younger brother of Francesco, but he was born out of wedlock and was never considered to belong to the family.

He was milder than his older brother; their relationship was not great, but at least there was no friction.

" How can they do that? Aren\'t you the one who made the plan?"

" I did, but we have to be careful. It is foolish to underestimate them." Antonio helped in the clean-up when Rothschild got too close to the truth. With Grant gone, they had nothing to worry about.

Despite that, he felt pretty bleak; his instinct was flaring up and telling him something was wrong. He always trusted his gut feeling.

" It\'s fine, he is not dead right? I don\'t think they would suspect us. I mean I am not that stupid even if I ask your help for running things occasionally."

" That is true. Whoever it was will pay a big price for it."

" It\'s pointless to discuss it. I will see you tomorrow morning. Also call my son, I want to know what he is doing behind my back."

" Alright, It is getting late. I will see you tomorrow."

They were still oblivious to what the \'young master\' had done; if they knew that the person responsible for the attack was from their guild, they would be running for their life right now.

Next day, early morning

Piero Romola de\' Medici, the oldest of the two sons, was the heir to the House of Medici. He had seen with his own eyes his father\'s ambition. When he was born, their business was already flourishing; thus, he was spoiled since his childhood.

He inherited his father\'s hunger for power and dominance, and with the past, as a guide, he wished to bring the family name to the forefront no matter what the cost. Francesco adored him because he saw his younger self in Piero, unlike his youngest, who was timid and hated his family\'s business. Piero was a natural; he was a genius who started handling business in his teenage years.

Even after his son\'s recent blunder, he had complete trust in him.

" Father, you called?" Piero asked as soon as he entered his father\'s chambers with the head butler and head of security.

He was responsible for managing the main forces of the family as well as handling foreign assets. His father was slowly increasing his responsibility to make him comfortable. It was also apparent to Antonio and another family member that Piero was going to succeed Francesco as the next head.

Francesco and Antonio were waiting for him inside; Francesco wanted to ask him about the report that he had received late last night.

" Yes. Sorry for calling you suddenly but I wanted to ask you something." Francesco said.

" Yes."

" I received this; I don\'t remember we have any business in the UK. Did something happen for you to send Nine back?" Nine, the same person who was responsible for taking care of Grant.

" How does he know about it? Is he keeping a eye on me?" Piero thought. He noticed Antonio\'s gaze and understood everything.

" Little shit! Father is not that calculative; it must be him! How should I play this?" He concluded, and he was right too, but now he had to devise an excuse.

" There was a little hiccup, I just wanted to close all the loose ends that\'s why I asked him to keep an eye." He gave a vague answer.

" I made sure that everything was perfect but now because of you we have a situation." His father might have believed him, but Antonio was suspicious.

" I never asked for your help. It annoys me when you keep getting in my way!" Piero lashed out. He never liked Antonio; Piero always thought he held his father back, which is why his father was so timid with his approach.

" Piero! He is right, I was informed that Nine has not contacted us for two days now. If he gets captured or worse if the Rothschild find out about him, it will be difficult for us to escape."

" Escape? Father, what are you saying? We are AXA; we should not fear them!" Hearing his son, Francesco could only sigh. He knew his son was young, but he was too headstrong to accept reality.

" Son, there is nothing wrong to accept that we are weaker than them. They are the most powerful family in the world. But we are on the right path, I know you hate to admit it but sometime we have to keep our head down and accept few losses." He tried to put some sense in his son\'s head.

" It was not just few losses, ten percent of our business was lost because of them. Father, if you could just-"

" No." His father flat out rejected him.