A thin blanket of rain covered a side street in Budapest, softening the city's noise. A man stumbled along the dark, cobbled street, his steps heavy, his body bent forward by pain. With his right hand, he tightly gripped a bleeding wound on the side of his abdomen — a bullet hole that not only tore through his flesh but also wounded his soul.
Despite his refined appearance, he couldn't hide the marks of the struggle. His dark, silky hair was slicked back from his forehead, highlighting his strong, distinctive face, which radiated both strength and depth. His deep, jet-black eyes occasionally flashed with pain and anger, but behind them lay a deeper sensitivity, seen by only a few. His attire was immaculate, a black, tailored suit and a pristine white shirt, now stained by a mix of rain and blood. Though his steps were weak now, they remained firm, like a man fully in control of his surroundings.
Ahead, on the edge of the pavement, a woman lay unconscious. Her cold, pale skin shimmered with raindrops, her hair spread out like a dark veil. The man's eyes reflected a whirlwind of emotions: betrayal, abandonment, sorrow, disappointment, and anger all raging within him at once. He did not know if the woman he risked everything for was still alive.
From the distance, the headlights of an approaching car danced in blue and red patches on the wet road. The lights slowly came closer and then shone directly into the man's eyes — like the first rays of the rising sun that end the night's darkness but bring new challenges.
As the car stopped, it was as if the story had been abruptly cut, and time rewound. A boy rose into the sunlight, and another life was beginning before him.
The sunlight grew warmer as it poured into the room where the boy stood, watching the clock. Today was his fifteenth birthday — a day that marked not only his age but also his passage into a new world.
Suddenly, the sound of "Happy Birthday" filled the house as his younger sisters sang cheerfully, their childish voices bringing life to the home. A faint smile appeared on the boy's lips, but his gaze drifted away, lost among swirling thoughts.
He eagerly awaited the meeting with his grandfather, the head of the family. His father had long disappeared from his life, and now he was the one meant to take his place. His grandfather had said to him: "Today your journey begins by my side. From now on, you carry forward what must be done for the family."
Since childhood, the boy had been raised like a prince — not for an easy life, but because they knew that as the head of a criminal family, he could not be weak or broken. The weight of the role already rested on his shoulders, though the hope and curiosity of youth still shone on his face.
Every step the family took was watched, every decision was a key to their future. The boy knew that power and danger alike were in his hands.
As his sisters surrounded the birthday cake, the candles flickered softly. For a moment, all fell silent, then the boy took a deep breath and blew out all the candles at once. Laughter and joy filled the room, his sisters clapped with shining eyes, and his mother smiled happily.
Not long after, they moved to the dining room where the whole family gathered for breakfast. Around the table, the familiar routine wrapped the space in warmth, even though everyone knew the day held serious turns ahead.
At the end of breakfast, the grandfather nodded to signal it was time to leave. They went out to the yard, where one of their men opened the car's rear door. The boy slid into the back seat, surrounded by his family members who briefly came together in a silent, close-knit group.
The car engine started, and the street awaited the beginning of new stories.
Thus began the story of Drake.