The casino Blue Flamingo was filled with vibrant neon colors. The outstanding luminescent shades of royal blue with orange added more fame to the casino, attracting gamblers like that if the bioluminescent underwater organisms attract their prey with their bioluminescence. The lavishly decorated interiors proclaimed that the casino was not for some ordinary gamblers, but the gamblers and players with deep pockets. 

The constant undertone of slot machines in action filled the area, sounding like a robotic background theme. The gamblers seemed to be focused on the machines, some sighing while some grinning in joy. 

Weylin Turner, standing all tall and proud, entered his casino - The Blue Flamingo. His side-parted jet-black hair was combed sideways, leaving a few naughty locks on his forehead. Dressed in a Brioni suit with black gloves covering his hands, he walked amidst the casino, towards the private luxury room which was specially booked for him. His hawk-like hooded eyes glanced at the surroundings, observing the atmosphere of his casino. His bow-shaped thin lips curved upwards forming a smile upon seeing everyone enjoying themselves. 

He walked gracefully, attracting the attention of almost every single person present at the casino, making them drool at him. Having a much better build at the young age of twenty-five years made him look like a mighty leader. He seemed like a descendant of Adonis walking gracefully on the earth. He was followed by his best friend and his assistant Jace Smith along with a few of his bodyguards. 

"How's the situation?" Weylin asked with his head held up, without turning back to his friend as he proceeded towards the room. 

"Charles Brown already reached five minutes ago," Jace replied in a serious professional tone, adjusting his Armani suit. 

Sniggering, Weylin shook his head slightly, almost reaching his destination. 

Tonight Weylin Turner was supposed to play with Charles Brown, the leader of The Vipers, one of the most deadly mafia organisations in the USA. Weylin gained the title 'The King' when it came to gambling. Countless people lost their bets against him, making him unbeatable. Playing against Weylin Turner meant only one thing - digging your own grave. 

With a creak, Jace opened the door of the private room, allowing the young leader to go inside. 

"Here comes Mr Turner." The assistant of Charles Brown stood, greeting the young man. 

"Mr Turner, don't you think it's rude to keep your guest waiting?" Charles Brown, a man in his mid-thirties spoke, irritated. 

"My bad. I was caught up with something really important," Weylin gave an apologetic smile as he took his seat on a fancy chair. 

"I postponed all my meetings just to meet you and you say you have something more important than this meeting?" Charles huffed, clenching his hands into fists. 

"My apologies, Mr Brown. I will play all fair and square to make it up to you," Weylin smiled, cards getting arranged for the game. 

"Fair and square, you say," Charles Brown sneered, animosity evident in his low voice. 

"Mr Turner, what's your deal for the night?" The dealer who didn't belong to any of the organizations asked, glancing at Weylin. 

"All of my casinos in the USA, my entire property, and my organization Black Panther," Weylin smirked. 

The dealer's eyeballs almost popped out. Never ever did he see such a deal before. Then it hit him that the player wasn't an ordinary player but Weylin Turner who was a man with tricks up to his sleeves. Quickly controlling his expression, he turned towards Charles Brown. 

"What's your deal, Mr Brown?" The dealer asked. 

Charles Brown glanced at his assistant, feeling uncertain. He was confident about winning but he wasn't so confident to put such a huge bet as Weylin Turner. Weylin smirked upon seeing his opponent's dilemma. He glanced at Jace who smirked in return. 

"Oh my...I thought the great Charles Brown wouldn't be hesitant to place a bet. I guess I feel a bit disappointed upon seeing my idol in a dilemma like that," Weylin let out a deep breath, pretending to get hurt. 

Bastard! He knows how to make people feel helpless! Charles Brown frowned, gritting his teeth. 

But it was too late for him to take a step back. If he didn't place the same bet as Weylin Turner, it would hurt both his pride and dignity as the leader of the deadly mafia organization. That's when he realized that he had already set his foot into Weylin Turner's trap. 

"Mr Brown?"

"Huh?"

The dealer's voice brought Charles back to reality. He glanced at Weylin to find the latter looking eagerly at him. 

"What's your deal, sir?" The dealer asked in a gentle tone. 

"Same as Mr. Turner - all of my property and my organization," Charles replied, glaring at the younger leader.

"Whoever gets the closest count to 21 shall be the winner," the dealer declared, shuffling the cards. After setting everything, he glanced at the players. "It's all set. Let the game begin."

In the blink of an eye, the room became deadly silent while the people in the room watched the two people play, biting their lips out of nervousness. The only sound of flipping the cards prevailed in the room as both the players glided the cards on the fancy table. After around 30 minutes, the game came to an end with Weylin Turner putting the ace and the face card in front of his opponent, making him the winner. 

"Mr Brown lost," the dealer declared.

"You freaking trickster! You cheated!" Charles Brown yelled, getting up from his seat. 

"I played all fair and square, Mr Brown," Weylin smiled as if nothing happened. "Moreover, I don't dare to use tricks in front of someone senior to me."

"Weylin Turner! Don't think that you won everything. Just wait for tomorrow. I'll make sure that you won't be able to see tomorrow's sunset," Charles Brown scoffed, storming out of the room, followed by his subordinates. 

"Tsk…what a loser!" Weylin smirked, sitting on his fancy chair. "Jace, proceed with the plan."

"Roger that," Jace smirked, signaling two of his men to proceed with the plan. 

Adjusting his suit, Weylin stood up. His gaze turned cold, more like a predator's gaze. Smirking, he walked out of the room, getting ready to hunt his prey. 

----------------------

Charles Brown returned to his mansion heavy-hearted. Not only did he underestimate Weylin Turner but also lost everything to that young man. As he entered his house, he was welcomed by an unusual silence. Generally, he was greeted by the butler and was served by the maids. 

Feeling suspicious, he glanced at his assistant who seemed to be on the same page with his master. 

"Where did everyone go?!" Charles shouted, trying to summon his people. 

Out of the blue, a few men in black appeared, holding Charles's maids and butler at gunpoint. Before he could get hold of anything, his assistant and his bodyguards were held at gunpoint, making them armless. 

"Who are you!?" Charles Brown yelled. 

"Guess…"

A cold yet mocking voice was heard, making Charles look in the direction of the source of the sound. 

"Who's there?" Charles shuttered.

Slowly, the men in black started to move aside, paving the path of the intruder. A man dressed in a black Armani suit walked in, looking as proud as a peacock. Charles's jaws slacked as soon as he recognized that man. 

"Y-you!"

"Yes, it's me," The man smirked, glancing at his surroundings. "How does it feel to stand this much helpless in front of your enemy?"

"Weylin Turner, don't you fucking dare to play with me!" Charles huffed, gritting his teeth. 

"Tch…" Clicking his tongue, Weylin snickered. "Look around you, Charles Brown. Does it still seem like I am in the mood to play with you?" Weylin's gaze turned cold as he glared at the other man. 

"Accept your defeat, Mr Brown. Your life might be spared," Jace Smith said, standing behind Weylin. 

"Charles Brown never bows to anyone!" Charles roared.

"Hah! As if you are in the position to talk," Weylin rolled his eyes, hand itching to pull the trigger of the gun and end this game for once and all. "I am giving you two choices - surrender or die."

"Charles Brown never surrender- ah!"

Before he could complete his words, the sound of a gunshot echoed in the room and the next moment, Charles Brown's body went limp in front of everyone. 

"Too noisy," Weylin clicked his tongue, looking at the tip of the gun which took away a life just a moment ago. 

"What should we do with these people?" Jace asked, pointing his gun at the butler, assistant, and the maids. 

"Eliminate the ones who are still loyal to that bastard and the remaining will join our gang," the young leader replied in a cold, stoic voice, sending shivers down the spines of Charles's people. "He wanted me to kill before tomorrow afternoon, right? Aish...poor Charles Brown, he won't be able to see the beautiful sunrise tomorrow." 

"Roger that!" Jace bowed to the leader.

"Spread the word that The Vipers are under Weylin Turner's dominance now. And make sure to spread the word in such a way that other organizations would clearly understand that they shouldn't dare to fuck with me. Charles Brown dared to lay his eyes on my gang - The Black Panther and he faces the consequences." 

"Sure," Jace nodded. 

"I am returning to my mansion. Take care of everything," Weylin said, walking out of the house, leaving behind the panicked people. 

-

Upon reaching home, Weylin relaxed himself with a warm bath. Getting into the warm water in the bathtub, he let all the tensed muscles relax. Running his hand through his hair, he threw his head backward, letting out a deep breath. 

"This was bound to happen," Weylin mumbled, serving himself a glass of champagne. Taking a sip from the glass, he stared at the blank space, eyes red with rage. "How dare that bastard hurt my people? He dared to lay his eyes on my gang and his hands on a female dealer in my casino, yet he thought there wouldn't be any consequences. Aish...how immature." He closed his eyes, to relax. 

Suddenly he opened his eyes upon remembering that the next day he had to return to England. 

"Ah...so finally the day came." A small smile appeared on Weylin's lips. "Finally I am going to meet my dad again. It has been so many years since I heard anything from him. I missed Dad so much. Did he miss me? I wonder how he looks now. Did his hair turn white? Is he as healthy as he used to be?" He chuckled subconsciously. "Tch. Sometimes it feels good to think like a teenager."

Quickly finishing his bath, he walked into his room, planning to pack things for the next day. After around two hours, he was almost done with the stuff. Feeling exhausted, he slumped into his bed, taking in a deep breath. 

Suddenly the door opened and a familiar face walked in. 

"Jace?"

"All done," Jace reported, taking off his blazer. "Very few of the servants were loyal. The butler was a sly fox. So he was eligible to join us."

"How many were killed?" The young man asked, again closing his eyes.

"Not much. Only ten."

"Great! Taking over a gang before going to visit my hometown is really satisfying," Weylin chuckled. 

"Are you done with packing?" Jace asked, glancing at the backpacks. 

"Almost."

"I'll take care of my stuff then. Did you have dinner?" Jace asked, standing at the door. 

"Yeah."

"Good night. Have a tight sleep," Jace smiled a bit before closing the door. 

By the time Jace closed the door, Weylin already slipped into a deep sleep. 

Weylin Turner, who was sent to the USA when he was just ten years old, grew up differently, completely detached from his father and his hometown. Blake Turner feared that his son might become the target of the bloodthirsty mafia organizations in England, causing him to make the harsh decision of sending his only son away from him. Since then, he underwent hard, ruthless training. 

As time passed, Weylin Turner transformed himself into the most powerful person and founded one of the deadliest mafia organizations - The Black Panther. He owned innumerable casinos all over the USA as well as other parts of the world. He was the sly fox when it came to expanding his territory. He left no stone unturned when it came to establishing his influence, making him one of the most feared mafia leaders at such a young age. 

Almost no one knew that Weylin Turner and Blake Turner were related to each other. Blake Turner was an expert when it came to having control over something and his son seemed to follow his father's steps. 

After almost fifteen years, Weylin Turner got to return home. This thought alone was enough to make him feel relaxed amidst his heavy responsibilities as a leader. So it seemed that sleep conquered him way faster than he had expected.