บท 1: 1."A True King without A Throne"
"LONDON"
Belgravia, one of London's most prestigious districts, is renowned for its grand architecture and opulent residences. Its streets are lined with elegant townhouses, each more magnificent than the last, exuding an air of exclusivity and wealth.
But tonight, amidst the opulence and grandeur, a haunting scene unfolds. In a secluded corner of Belgravia, a grand mansion is engulfed in flames. The fire reaches hungrily toward the sky, its orange tongues licking at the darkened heavens. The inferno casts an eerie glow over the surroundings, illuminating the horror within. If one were to look closely, they would see the grim details through the windows: charred remains and pools of blood painting a stark picture of the carnage that took place moments ago. The mansion, once a symbol of luxury and power, now stands as a smoldering monument to devastation.
A young man stands at a distance, observing the destruction with a stoic expression. His face reveals no trace of emotion as he watches the flames consume the mansion. At around eighteen or nineteen, he is Leonard Vallente, the son of Lorenzo Vallente. Lorenzo is one of the wealthiest men in the world, known not only for his immense fortune but also for his dangerous ties to the criminal underworld.
Leonard, now the sole witness to the inferno he himself orchestrated, stands detached, lost in thought. The fire he set was not just an act of arson but a message—a declaration of something much deeper and more personal.
To understand why Leonard committed such a drastic act, we must delve into his past.
In 2001, Lorenzo Vallente returned to London from India, but he wasn't alone. He carried a one-year-old boy in his arms. The child, named Shivaay by his Indian mother, was a mystery to everyone—his mother's identity remained unknown. Lorenzo was already married to Valentina, a prominent figure from a wealthy business family, who did not accept the boy. Faced with no other choice, Lorenzo entrusted Shivaay to his loyal butler, Alfred.
In public, the boy was known as Alfred's son. Alfred took on the responsibility of raising the child with unwavering dedication. Over time, Valentina gave birth to a boy named Alex. To the outside world, Lorenzo had only one son: Alex. Meanwhile, Leonard, as he was now called, lived with Alfred.
From a young age, Leonard exhibited extraordinary intelligence and an insatiable curiosity. Alfred, recognizing the boy's potential, informed Lorenzo. Lorenzo, understanding the gravity of the situation, instructed Alfred to educate Leonard in every conceivable field. Alfred began an exhaustive training regimen for Leonard, teaching him martial arts from around the world, including Aikido, boxing, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, capoeira, Eskrima, fencing, Gatka, Hapkido, Jeet Kune Do, judo, Kalaripayattu, karate, Kenjutsu, Kenpō, kickboxing, Kobudō, Krav Maga, Kyūdō, Bōjutsu, and Muay Thai. Beyond physical training, Alfred also imparted knowledge in politics, law, and various academic subjects.
As Leonard grew, he became a skilled and refined young man, excelling in all his endeavors. This proficiency and versatility sparked fear in Valentina and Alex. The possibility that Lorenzo might choose Leonard as his successor became a source of anxiety for them. In a desperate move to eliminate this threat, they sent assassins to eliminate Leonard.
However, Leonard's training proved invaluable. When the assassins arrived, he met them with a calm resolve and an impressive display of his skills. In a fierce battle within the mansion, Leonard defended himself with precision and skill. The fight ended with the assassins defeated and the mansion reduced to ashes, set ablaze by Leonard himself as a statement of his resolve and independence.
As Leonard stood in silence, watching the burning mansion with an inscrutable expression, Alfred approached him respectfully. "Young Master, your father is here," Alfred announced softly.
Leonard did not turn or acknowledge Alfred's presence. His calm demeanor remained unshaken by the inferno or the approaching figures. Recognizing that Leonard was in no mood for conversation, Alfred stepped back, allowing the scene to unfold.
A sleek black BMW X7 pulled up a short distance away, its dark windows reflecting the flames. The vehicle came to a halt, and the door opened to reveal a middle-aged man in a sharp black suit. The man exuded an unmistakable aura of authority and control. Lorenzo Vallente, Leonard's father, stepped out and made his way toward his son.
Lorenzo's footsteps were deliberate and measured. As he approached Leonard, he stopped a few paces away, his gaze steady and his voice calm yet commanding. "Leo," he began, his tone heavy but unexpectedly gentle.
Leonard finally turned to face his father, his eyes betraying nothing of his internal turmoil. Lorenzo continued, "It's done by Alex and Valentina. I didn't expect they would sink to such depths. What do you want to do with them?"
For a long moment, Leonard remained silent, his eyes fixed on the flames. The fire's glow danced in his eyes, reflecting the intensity of his emotions. Finally, his voice cut through the night, calm and measured. "Declare Alex as your heir publicly."
Lorenzo's gaze lingered on Leonard, taking in the resolute tone in his son's voice. The request was unexpected, but it was clear that Leonard had made his decision.
Lorenzo's expression shifted from concern to frustration. His voice rose, tinged with anger. "Leo, don't jest with me. This isn't just business; it's an empire your grandfather and I built from the ground up. Alex is not suitable. He's a waste of time, consumed by women and alcohol. If I hand over everything to him, he'll ruin it all. And what about you?"
Leonard's gaze remained steady, his demeanor unshaken. "True kings don't need thrones, Father. A king remains a king regardless of titles or power. I don't need anything from this world." He paused, the firelight casting shadows across his face. "Leonard is already dead in the flames of this mansion. The person standing before you now is Shivaay. I'm leaving this country."
The weight of Shivaay's words hung in the air, more profound than the smoke that billowed from the ruins. Lorenzo's eyes searched his son's face, seeking any sign of the boy he once knew, but all he found was the resolve of a man who had shed his old identity.
Seeing the seriousness in Shivaay's eyes, Lorenzo realized that Shivaay was resolute in his departure. The weight of the moment settled heavily between them. After a pause, Lorenzo finally asked, "Where are you going?"
Shivaay's response was calm and deliberate. "I don't know, but it will be far from here. But tell Alex this: if ever I am forced to return, it will be his last day."
Lorenzo's silence was a tacit acknowledgment of the gravity of Shivaay's declaration. The intensity of his son's resolve left him with no words, only the crackling of the fire and the haunting shadows it cast.
Shivaay turned away from his father, his steps purposeful as he moved towards his car. Alfred, ever loyal, followed closely behind. As they reached the vehicle, Shivaay stopped and addressed Alfred with a mixture of finality and affection.
"Alfred, stay with Father. He needs you more than I do now."
Alfred's eyes were filled with concern and a touch of confusion. "But, Young Master—"
"Please," Shivaay interrupted gently, his voice tinged with the sorrow of parting. "You've been father figure to me. You're family. He'll need your guidance, your strength."
The emotion in Alfred's eyes mirrored the gravity of the situation. He hesitated, the weight of the decision palpable in the air. "Young Master, I—"
Shivaay placed a reassuring hand on Alfred's shoulder. "I understand. This is my path to walk alone now. Just promise me you'll be there for him."
Hearing Shivaay's instructions, Alfred nodded, his expression one of reluctant acceptance. "Yes, Young Master," he said quietly.
Shivaay gave a final, decisive nod before sliding into the car. As the engine roared to life, he turned to Alfred one last time. "Alfred, tell Father he can now proceed with his business in Morocco without any concerns."
Alfred's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean, Young Master—"
Before he could finish his question, Shivaay drove off, disappearing into the night. Alfred watched as the car vanished, leaving only the lingering echoes of its departure.
After Shivaay left, Lorenzo stood alone, gazing at the burning mansion, lost in thought. The flickering flames mirrored the tumult within him. Suddenly, his phone rang, breaking the silence. He answered it, listened intently, then simply replied, "Okay." As he slipped the phone back into his pocket, a smile slowly spread across his face.
Noticing this unusual expression, Alfred approached, his curiosity piqued. "Master, Young Master said that you can now start your business in Morocco without any problems."
Lorenzo nodded, his smile unwavering. "Yes, I know."
Alfred's confusion deepened. "What does that mean, Master?"
Lorenzo's eyes glinted with a mix of pride and relief. "The Moroccan mafia that was causing us trouble—Daniel—is already dead."
Realization dawned on Alfred, and a smile tugged at his lips. They both understood the significance. "So, Young Master… Shivaay already did something?"
Lorenzo's smile widened. "Yes, he took care of the problem before leaving. Shivaay ensured our path is clear."
Alfred nodded, a sense of admiration in his eyes. "He truly has become formidable."
Lorenzo's expression softened, reflecting a blend of pride and sorrow. "He has. Shivaay may have left us, but his actions speak volumes. He's forged his own path, yet he still looks out for us."
The night air was thick with unspoken emotions as they stood together, the mansion's ruins casting long shadows.
In that moment, both men understood the depth of Shivaay's resolve and the legacy he was creating, not just as Leonard, but as Shivaay—a true king without a throne, shaping his destiny far from the flames of his past.
(A/N:This is the new fanfic novel I am writing, which also includes some original plots and characters.)
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(Word's Count:-1670)
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