The Shadow's Inheritance

Chapter 2: The Echo of Iron

Chapter 2: The Echo of Iron

The scent of stale champagne and synthetic Beta pheromones clung to the penthouse suite, mixing unpleasantly with the overwhelming, cloying jasmine of Enzo's expensive Omega perfume. Jungkook Alessio Deluca stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, the first rays of the Milan sun doing little to warm the room.

His shirt was open, his hair slightly damp from a shower meant to scrub away the memory of the previous night—a night spent attempting (and failing) to find distraction among the city's most beautiful and compliant. He was the most sought-after Alpha in Italy, rich enough to buy loyalty and powerful enough to enforce silence, but the effortless conquests left him colder than the marble floor. He was a playboy by reputation, but now, the term felt synonymous with empty.

He was bound to Enzo, his current Omega husband, whose pregnancy secured the Deluca lineage. That bond was one of convenience and genetics, devoid of the complex, consuming fire he had shared with Taehyung. Jungkook had traded passion for security, and every day, he felt the heavy cost of that exchange.

"Capo," Salvatore, his Head of Acquisitions, entered the study. He wisely kept his distance, his Beta scent minimal. "I apologize for the early hour, but the situation is critical."

Jungkook didn't turn, his gaze fixed on the endless stretch of concrete and commerce—his kingdom. "Speak."

"We have confirmed a hostile takeover maneuver, executed with impossible speed. The target is the Banca Vecchia, but the attack is structured as a feint. The real damage is aimed at the subsidiary funding the attack: Deluca Luxury Holdings."

Jungkook finally spun around, his eyes flashing with the first genuine interest—or rather, pure, unadulterated rage—he'd shown all morning. Deluca Luxury Holdings was his private fund. It managed the assets for his yachts, his private island holdings, and the extravagant allowances he gave to his associates. It was his personal, non-essential shield against the serious world of Deluca finance; the place where he kept his "playboy money." Attacking it was not a financial strategy; it was a brazen, personal insult.

"The attack on Banca Vecchia is a distraction, correct?" Jungkook growled, crossing the room to stand over Salvatore. His Alpha aura immediately expanded, a silent, terrifying pressure that commanded focus.

"Precisely. They are forcing us to overcommit to a minor, historical bank, while the primary action is designed to disrupt the liquidity of DLH. It's a surgical strike—they seem to know exactly where the pressure points are, Capo. The funding is massive, entirely untraceable, channeled through a shell called Terra Nova Investments."

Jungkook's blood ran cold. He recognized the pattern of calculated destruction. Only someone who had spent years inside the inner circle, observing the hierarchy of his priorities—and knowing the shame he attached to his playboy habits—could have designed this.

"The signatory," Jungkook commanded, his voice dangerously soft. "The individual behind Terra Nova. The true power."

Salvatore clicked through the projection, visibly nervous under the Alpha pressure. "We cracked the fiduciary registration. The business alias is 'The Shadow,' but the legal name used to incorporate the initial funding... it's Rossi."

The name landed like a physical blow. Rossi. It was impossible. Taehyung was abroad, broken, and had no resources for this. He was an Omega without a scent of business ambition, let alone the power to orchestrate a strike that threatened the foundations of the Deluca playboy fund.

Yet, there it was on the screen: the elegant, impossible flourish on the document—the exact signature Taehyung had used to sign their marriage license.

Jungkook stared at the screen, the rage boiling over, fueled by a terrifying cocktail of Alpha possessiveness and absolute regret. This was no greedy former wife looking for a payout. This was war.

"I want a profile on this 'Shadow.' I want to know who is funding him," Jungkook ordered, his voice echoing with absolute authority. "And I want the Banca Vecchia defended. But prioritize the defenses around Deluca Luxury Holdings. We will not be humiliated on the global stage."

He had destroyed Taehyung with the accusation that he couldn't provide an heir. Now, the Omega wife he had thrown away had returned, using the very hedonistic weaknesses Jungkook had embraced to humiliate him.

Jungkook walked back to the window, the sun now high enough to illuminate the opulence he had built. It all felt like a fragile, beautifully painted glass house.

You came back, he thought, gripping the window frame until his knuckles were white. You came back, Taehyung. The disposable wife has returned to take the crown.