Leon Vercetti sat in the backseat of a yellowed taxi, the leather cracked and sticky beneath his palms. The rain hadn't let up. It streaked down the windows like tears, smearing the city skyline beyond into ghostly shadows. He leaned forward, staring at his reflection in the glass.
Younger. Sharper. A face full of hope, with no idea of what the world would do to him.
He didn't recognize the man in the mirror. Not really.
The driver glanced at him through the rearview. "You alright, boss?"
Leon gave a curt nod. "Just drive."
His mind was elsewhere. Focused. He hadn't slept since waking up in this second life. There was no time. Every move now was about precision.
Gabriel's betrayal had reset the entire game board. But it also meant he knew exactly where the pieces would fall—unless he tipped them first.
And it would begin with a straightforward act: changing the outcome of today's bank meeting.
The lobby of Ulysses & Finch Banking Corp. hadn't changed.
High ceilings, marble floors, and gold-trimmed columns. It still reeked of old money and quiet power. Leon strode through it like a man twice his age and ten times more dangerous.
Daniel walked beside him, practically bouncing with nervous energy. "Okay, we rehearsed this pitch like fifteen times. You sure you don't want to—"
"I know it by heart," Leon said.
Daniel hesitated. "You sound different today. Like colder."
Leon paused before the elevator, hitting the button. "That's because I've already seen what happens if we fail."
"What?"
Leon forced a smile. "I meant I've already imagined every outcome. Let's go."
The doors opened, and they stepped inside. Floor 21. The pitch room. Leon felt it before he saw it—the turning point of his original life.
Ten years ago, the bank had approved their funding, but only on condition. That decision put them at the mercy of other investors, some of whom would later screw them, one in particular.
Gareth Tolland.
A parasite dressed in silk, Gareth was the first domino. He bought into Vercetti Global during its early, fragile days, then used that leverage to sink hooks into the company. Bled it dry from the inside while pretending to be its savior. Later, he sold his shares—illegally—to Gabriel.
The rest was history.
But not this time.
Inside the boardroom, four executives sat behind a long table. Suits. Cold eyes. Calculators in skin.
"Mr. Vercetti. Mr. Summers," one of them greeted. "Let's begin."
Leon slid into his seat and opened the binder, but his eyes were already locked on the one man in the room who hadn't spoken.
Gareth Tolland.
Not yet an investor. Not yet a problem.
Leon took a slow breath.
You don't belong here yet. But I'll make sure you never do.
Daniel began the pitch. He was good—energetic, passionate. But they weren't listening to him.
They were watching Leon.
He sat like a man twice his age. Every answer he gave was sharp. Confident. Almost rehearsed—but never stiff. When they tested the financials, he offered a deeper analysis than he had the first time around. When they questioned scalability, he had the ten-year plan memorized.
One of the bankers leaned in. "You speak as if you already know how this ends."
Leon smiled. "That's because I do."
The room quieted.
Then, after a long pause, Gareth chuckled. "Well, confidence is half the game."
Leon didn't look at him. "Only when it's backed by certainty."
An hour later, they shook hands.
No conditions.
No, Gareth.
Back outside, Daniel exploded. "What the hell was that?! They loved you! Did you blackmail them or something?"
Leon smirked. "Something like that."
"You were incredible," Daniel said, shaking his head. "I mean, I thought we'd just scrape by, but that was—who are you, man?"
Leon paused. "Just someone tired of making the same mistakes."
Daniel stared at him. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Leon clapped him on the back. "I'm better than alright. I'm in control."
That night, Leon returned to the apartment and cracked open his old laptop. Slow. Glitchy. But functional.
He began compiling a list.
Targets. Threats. Allies.
Gabriel Kane – Inner circle. It must be neutralized at the right time. Watch for signs of early manipulation.
Gareth Tolland – Prevent all investment. Watch for secondary interest through shell companies.
Vivian LeClair—Legal counsel. Future traitor. It can be turned if handled early.
Elena Rowe—marketing genius. Overlooked in the first life. Recruit early. Loyal if respected.
Daniel Summers – Trusted. Protect.
He leaned back, rereading the names. The list would grow. But it was a start.
His phone buzzed. An unknown number. He stared at it for a moment before answering.
"Leon Vercetti."
A familiar voice answered. "Mr. Vercetti. My name is Annalise Ward. I represent a private investor group. We've heard about your pitch this morning."
Leon's eyes narrowed. She hadn't called him the last time.
"We'd like to meet."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because we believe in second chances," she replied smoothly.
Leon froze.
Was it a coincidence? Or something else?
He hesitated. Then: "When and where?"
"Tomorrow. Café Del Mare. Noon."
The line went dead.
Leon stared at the phone, then rose to his feet and looked out at the city.
Something was shifting.
His death hadn't just rewound the clock.
It had changed the playing field.
New players. New moves.
And if someone else remembered the past like he did.
Then he wasn't the only one who'd come back.
In this game of shadows and power, only those who adapt fastest survive, and Leon was ready to be the one left standing.
From this moment on, his every move would be calculated, precise, and ruthless.
There was no room for mistakes, no second chances beyond this rare opportunity life had presented once more.
With each breath and every heartbeat, he could feel the burden of his past pressing down on him, but also the fierce fire of determination burning brighter than ever.
The city lay before him like a chessboard, and he was the player who refused to face the threat of being checkmated again.