GOD OF CHAOS

PROLOGUE

LANDON KING

He had always felt like the odd one out in his family, though paradoxically, he also felt like he fit right in. Landon pondered which feeling he preferred. Their grandfather often remarked that he resembled his father, yet Landon only knew his father as a family man. Himself? He was nothing like that. Chaos was his domain, and the sound of terrified screams was a symphony to his ears. He found solace in causing turmoil, and he could easily orchestrate it again if he so desired.

Brandon accused him of being narcissistic, but Landon considered himself self-aware. Was it really a fault if he was always correct? Playing with people for his own entertainment was his guilty pleasure, and they never seemed to resist. It wasn't his fault they were so easily manipulated.

As he entered the mansion, his gaze fell upon his twin brother rushing down the stairs, absorbed in his phone. Their eyes met, and Brandon froze under Landon's scrutinizing stare. Landon narrowed his eyes. "Where are you off to, Bran?"

"A group project," Brandon replied with an air of nonchalance, a bit too nonchalant for Landon's liking. He tilted his head, studying Brandon's appearance. Brandon always maintained a pristine image, the epitome of neatness and cleanliness. Lately, however, he seemed to be experimenting with more unconventional color combinations.

"What kind?" Landon prodded.

Brandon frowned. "Why do you care? You think they're a waste of time anyway." Landon's jaw clenched. Not much managed to affect him. He couldn't deny that he cared about his parents and his sister because that was logical. However, Brandon was different. He was a part of Landon, the only person Landon truly cared about.

"You need to get over your self-loathing attitude," Landon retorted.

"And you need to be more compassionate. Guess neither is happening today," Brandon snapped. Landon's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Did Brandon King just snap? The realization seemed to dawn on Brandon simultaneously. His Adam's apple bobbed, and his shoulders hunched forward as he let out a heavy sigh. "I'll be home later." With that, he walked past Landon, avoiding eye contact.

Part of Landon wanted to follow him, but he restrained himself. He wasn't going to give Brandon more reasons to hate him. Turning around, Landon ascended the stairs to his bedroom. It had been a long day, and he needed a lengthy shower to relax before sleeping-or, well, indulging in whatever pleased him at the moment.

About thirty minutes later, Landon emerged from the shower, the warm water having washed away the tensions of the day. He draped a towel around his waist and stepped into his bedroom. The comforting warmth of the room welcomed him as he ran his fingers through his damp hair, scattering water droplets around. With the intention to unwind, he approached the bed, but before he could even consider removing his towel, a tingling sensation prickled his skin, signaling the presence of another person in the room.

"Are those goosebumps I see, King?" The unmistakable voice of Jeremy Volkov echoed in the room. Landon chuckled, turning to face the mafia prince who held sway over the underworld.

"I can get you a pair of glasses if you're having trouble with your vision," he retorted with a smirk. Jeremy's glare intensified. Landon noticed the gun in his hand, though he didn't need to look to confirm its presence. But he knew Jeremy wouldn't harm him. Jeremy was calculated and strategic, unlike his hot-headed friend Nikolai, who couldn't sneak into this house without raising an alarm. Landon sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You know exactly what."

Landon shrugged nonchalantly. "Can't think of anything." Truth be told, he could think of plenty of reasons why the heathens might be upset this time, but he wasn't about to give Jeremy the satisfaction of knowing. As Jeremy stepped closer, Landon noticed a slight tremor in his body, a telltale sign of anger.

Good.

"Cut the shit," he snapped. "Why was your brother at the initiation?" His words wiped the smirk off Landon's face. His insides turned cold. What the hell?

Ignoring the rising turmoil within him, Landon kept his composure. "You think I'd tell you why?"

Jeremy scrutinized his expression, his anger evident. "You've got no other option as far as I see it."

Landon rolled his eyes. "So now you're going to point your gun at my face, make some threats, and when I don't comply, you'll tell me to stay away from your barbaric gang and leave. Let's just skip to the part where you leave, please. I've had a long day." To emphasize his point, he stretched his arms and let out a yawn.

Now, don't get him wrong, he was fast, incredibly so. His occasional scraps demanded it, or he could end up seriously injured. But Jeremy operated on a different level of speed and sheer strength.

Before Landon could even blink, Jeremy's fingers were wrapped around his neck, and he was slammed onto his mattress, knocking the breath out of him. Jeremy straddled him, his knees digging into his hips, rendering him immobile. "Damn," Landon wheezed. "Take your kinks elsewhere, Volkov. Not interested."

His grip tightened around Landon's neck. "You talk too much for someone who can't even fight their way out of my hold. Don't you have any survival instincts?"

"I'm not even trying," Landon said, though it wouldn't have made a difference. He didn't need to know that.

"Then try," Jeremy growled through gritted teeth.

Landon chuckled. "Does it turn you on?"

Jeremy looked like he was about to explode. "You need to stop going after people you don't stand a chance against."

"And what are you gonna do if I don't? Break into my room and try this again?" Landon challenged, noting the subtle twitches in Jeremy's muscles as his anger simmered. For someone he considered somewhat intelligent, Jeremy was a disappointment. He was easy to provoke if you paid close enough attention, making him a great source of entertainment.

Jeremy scowled, his grip firm around Landon's neck. "No, I'll make sure your brother pays for it instead."

Landon's thoughts raced. Fuck this guy. He thinks he can manipulate the Landon King?

"You think I care about that?" Landon scoffed. "I wouldn't have sent him to the initiation otherwise." Bran had some explaining to do about that.

"So you'd let me hurt your brother?" Jeremy asked.

No. I'd kill you before you could touch a hair on his head, Landon thought.

"Go for it," Landon retorted instead. A look of disgust crossed Jeremy's face. He pushed off Landon and stood up. Gasping for air as he filled his lungs, Landon grinned. "Did I ruin your plans, mafia prince?"

A smirk played on Jeremy's lips as he shook his head. "No, king. You gave me exactly what I wanted."