Xanxus was absolutely disgusted it had taken three months for word to reach the Ninth about the new Varia Storm being a child. What was Vongola Intelligence doing if they didn't notice the fact that the Storm had been replaced?

He was even more annoyed the old fucker was trying to convince him to hand over Belphegor to someone else. The Varia was no place for a child in his opinion.

"Fuck off old man. The brat killed the previous Storm and his Flame type matches, so he has a fair chance to stay as the new Officer. The rules about ascension make no mention of age, and he's bloodthirsty enough to fit right in once the grace period is over."

"Grace period?" blinked Timoteo.

"You really think I'd throw a child into the jungle without giving him a chance to find his own footing first? I don't throw children into unfamiliar environments and expect them to figure things out on their own with little to no support."

Unlike you, went unsaid but heavily implied.

"I see."

"No, you don't. I'll train the fucker for a year and then throw him to the wolves. The Storms all have one shot to take the brat out and they can't attack all on the same day."

He would allow a total of seven Storms who thought they could kill the new Officer to attack, and not all at once. However that meant that they would have to wait two days before the next batch of idiots could go after the kid. That gave Belphegor a chance to rest and the Storms a chance to devise a new strategy.

And while some might claim he was showing a bit too much favoritism to the lone child in the group, Xanxus had a valid reason for setting things up like this. One that had even the hardasses shutting up.

By giving them one shot to take out the kid and claim the spot, he was giving them incentive to train. Limiting it to a set amount every three days meant that the boy could prove he could handle multiple opponents all in the same day, while providing the next set a chance to adjust their original strategy after seeing him fight. If a half-trained child could survive that sort of test, then clearly he had earned his new titles as Storm Officer, rather than got lucky.

And if he died, then Xanxus would wait another three months while the winner defended his new position from the other Storms. Xanxus was not making anything official until the pecking order had been firmly established among the hot headed morons. Setting the kid loose as their Officer had destabilized it enough... Xanxus was firmly in damage control mode concerning the Varia's internal politics.

"I don't like this."

"And I don't give a fuck. You might be the Vongola Don, but this is the fucking Varia. You have no say in how we choose our men or our officers any more than you do CEDEF," said Xanxus, staring down the old man.

Timoteo, predictably, looked away first.

"This isn't the path I would have chosen for you son," said Timoteo.

"Just like my Guardians aren't the ones you would have picked for your brats. Unlike my brothers, I chose loyalty and ability over politics and the ability to kiss someone's ass. I trust them with my life... can you say the same for Enrico's shitty Guardians who barely know how to shoot the broadside of a barn?"

"I don't want my sons to have murderers at their side."

"Newsflash asshole, this isn't some petty civilian politics that they're playing with. This is the fucking Cosa Nostra where if you're weak they'll eat you alive. Just because the Vongola is one of the strongest famiglias around doesn't mean there aren't wolves at the door waiting to take your sons away from you because they strut about like cocks in the henhouse. I'd rather not have to go to any funerals because you got fucking complacent and refuse to open your eyes to reality," snapped Xanxus.

Timoteo would only look back on this conversation two months later...and weep because Xanxus had known what would happen and he still did nothing. The loss of Enrico had come as a shock, especially when he found out that it could have been prevented by Vongola Intelligence being at the top of their game and doing their jobs.

Belphegor stared down the last of his opponents with a sneer. Xanxus had made the rules clear to everyone, and not even the traditionalists had complained that much about them. While they had disliked the idea of a grace period, they could accept the reasoning that the Prince needed training before he could remotely take on trained Varia Storms. His initial kill was a fluke... now was the time he could prove he was truly Varia Quality.

And he had survived. Sometimes beaten and bruised, and more than a few times his other self had come out to slaughter more than a few of his opponents, but he had pulled it off.

He even had a proper nickname now among the mooks, who were starting to treat him with a wary sort of respect one would give a rabid animal.

Prince the Ripper, after the infamous serial killer Jack the Ripper. The irony was not lost to him, as he was well aware that the Boss was actually English born. He bore his new title with pride and no little amount of glee.

Now if only the Boss would quit treating him like a tiger cub while he was out of his human form.

The prince gleefully ripped into the mook, who died with a satisfying death rattle. Xanxus shot off one of his guns, silencing any attempts to make noise.

"Any more bitching about the kid being the new Storm Officer?" he asked flatly.

The observation deck was utterly silent. Most of the complaining had died off within the third week of the 'testing'. These were just the most stubborn morons who refused to believe that he was actually dangerous, but smart enough to let him be worn down by all the others.

The only thing Belphegor wanted to do was curl up and sleep for a week. He was utterly exhausted, but at least now none of the old timers couldn't bitch about him not earning his place among them because of his age.

Luss fussed over him, before plopping him down in the small kitchenette that the more paranoid of the Varia used because they didn't trust the professional cooks that made the meals.

Or in the case of Xanxus, because they enjoyed cooking and didn't feel like fighting for space. He usually left the leftovers on the stove for anyone to come up and grab if they were hungry and didn't want to fight the crowds in the main hall. They rarely lasted a full night, or were devoured by morning.

If Xanxus wanted to kill them, he wouldn't bother with poisoning them. He'd shoot them outright in the face.

Belphegor eagerly accepted his bowl of food and the bread... he had learned early on that Xanxus was actually a natural cook. He had only gotten better with proper lessons in the more fancy dishes, but he always preferred simple, easy to make food compared to the multi-course monstrosities that the prince was used to.

Once he finished (leaving almost nothing left, to the amusement of the actual teens who had been equally ravenous) he went over and plopped into Xanxus' lap without a word.

Xanxus had made it perfectly clear that around the mooks and the rest of the world, he was the Boss and thus couldn't be seen coddling him or showing him too much favor.

But alone, when it was just him and his Guardians? He could let his real self show. Belphegor treasured his stuffed tiger doll that Xanxus had given him when he was finally able to start lasting a full hour against the older, more vicious Wrath. When they were around Xanxus could actually let his guard down, the older teen treated him firmly like a treasured member of the family. As if Belphegor was his little brother in all but blood.

Which meant the prince had quickly gotten used to being scooped up and settled against the Wrath, or listening to the boss read from one of the many books he had lying around when things were relatively calm. He didn't even care about being picked up by Erebus and treated like a cub, since the tiger didn't mind him riding him like a horse.

For the first time in his life he was wanted and treated like actual family. Even if he found the medication they made him take annoying. He didn't know why he had to take the specially designed pills every morning, just that Luss insured he did.

Xanxus rolled his eyes and let the little princeling snuggle up against him. He had earned it.

"Just so we're clear brat, you're never going on a solo mission until you're thirteen. Mammon has graciously agreed to be your semi-permanent partner," said Xanxus.

Only because the Mist had found out very quickly Belphegor had absolutely no sense when it came to money. Oh, he knew how to balance his bank account... he just didn't care. He had born to some a rather well-off royal line and never had to worry about such things and it showed.

It also meant that they could gouge him for minor fees and he wouldn't bitch about it.

That being said... Belphegor perked up when he saw the bowl of ice cream put down.

"Enjoy it brat. You earned it."

"So what are we going to do to reward the little princeling?" asked Luss.

She still found the boss' private nickname for the bratty blond hilarious.

"And how is he prince when everyone knows Squalo is the second in command?" asked Mammon.

"Same principles that allow there to be multiple princes in the British monarchy," rumbled Xanxus. "He's close enough to the royal line to carry the title, but distant enough that inheriting isn't likely to happen any time in his lifetime unless a major shift occurs like everyone in the main line is wiped out or rendered incapable."

"You know it's really weird that I keep forgetting Boss is technically British," said Squalo.

Taking a look at the teen and you'd never guess he wasn't born Italian.

"I still find it amusing that instead of hoarding gold, he hoards books," said Mammon.

"Still qualifies," rumbled Xanxus.

"I know that, but most people think of hoarding shiny things when they think dragons, even if you haven't quite gotten the hang of the transformation yet."

Xanxus was in a foul mood. While the matter of Belphegor's status as Storm Officer had been settled once and for all (he was still a brat, but at least he respected Xanxus enough to behave to a certain extent...and stabbed anyone who made fun of his title as prince) there were still rumors that had him digging in to his paperwork trying to find something to shoot at.

That was when he started hearing rumors of a coup against the Vongola.

He was not happy. While he couldn't stand the Ninth generation he was fond of his nonna and to a smaller extent his brothers... even if they were a pain in the ass.

"Voi. Still no idea who's trying to take power from the old bastard?" asked Squalo.

"Whoever it is, they're hiding their tracks."

If Xanxus hadn't already known he was adopted, he would have suspected himself of trying to claim the title of heir. After all, Massimo was a joke and Federico wasn't nearly strong enough to hold the famiglia together. And forget Iemitsu... that asshole had happily taken the role of External Adviser and head of CEDEF, which meant that he was excluded unless everyone else died first.

Even if some of the families in the Alliance were starting to whisper that perhaps now was the time for the youngest Vongola son to rise and take his place as heir. Xanxus knew it was pointless... his only connection to the Vongola was through Giotto, and it was blood-locked to his specific branch of the family. The odds of him being able to successfully claim the ring were so damn low it wasn't worth the headache.

Besides, he was king of his castle and in no mood to have even more reason for the shitheads that made up the Ninth Generation to bother him already! If he was the Decimo, he'd have to listen to them bitch and moan on top of the paperwork, and he had no interest in that! He liked being head of the Varia!

Xanxus growled...whoever was staging a coup was making his relatively calm days hectic. Especially since he knew better than to trust Iemitsu to actually do his job.

"Voi...maybe you should visit Daniela. She might have some ideas...and you know she adores spoiling the prince brat," said Squalo.

Xanxus rubbed his tired eyes.

"Fuck it. I'm visiting Nonna tomorrow... I have a splitting headache and her usual tea group should be around so they might have some ideas of where to look," said Xanxus.

The next afternoon

While Daniela wouldn't let him drink around the small children, just being away from the paperwork and the crazies that made up the Varia was helping his mood immensely.

"So you heard someone is going to try and stage a coup within the Vongola?" said Daniela, sipping her coffee.

"From what I heard, you were the one preparing something big," commented another.

Xanxus let out a sarcastic laugh at that.

"Me, stage a coup? What would be the point? There's no way the rings would accept me to begin with and even if I did succeed it would mean having to put up with that annoying idiot currently in charge along with his menopausal Storm!" said Xanxus, editing his usual language in respect to the fact there were small kids under ten around.

"What do you mean the rings wouldn't accept you? Aren't you his son?" asked Lilou.

Daniela and Xanxus both shook their heads.

"My darling grandson belongs to a different branch of the Primo's original family. From what we found out, the Primo was actually the third son of another Sky-heavy family in England, only he left to make his own name and fortunes and ended up creating a branch line. Xanxus is from the 'main' branch, which means he's ineligible to inherit since his line is from an older, more established one," explained Daniela.

All the other women stared at Daniela.

"Tell them the rest. My birth mother was actually related to three of the Primo's Guardians."

"Don't forget the fact that you're related through Daemon Spade through your paternal grandmother," said Daniela exasperated. "Considering the inbreeding issue over there, it's not as surprising as you'd think, though that many bloodlines managing to marry into each other is a bit odd unless they were naturally drawn together."

"Details, leave nothing out!" said Lilou. She loved tracking down old bloodlines and family histories.

Xanxus grinned, and it wasn't long before Belphegor was quietly sitting in his lap drinking his lemonade.

"As it turns out Lampo, the Lightning Guardian managed to knock up G's younger daughter and ended having three kids with her after the Primo disappeared off to Japan. From there the line more or less continued until only one descendant was left, a girl named Rosemary. The Primo's Cloud Alaude had a younger sister, and her descendants moved around a bit until one of them was in Germany where Rosemary met a young soldier from France named Matthew, who was Alaude's many times great-nephew. The two fell in love and had two children, Petunia and Lily. Petunia married some fat pig and has a son with a record that's been sealed until after he's old enough to be considered an adult, while Lily went and got married to some prick named James...who is in fact from the main line of the family that Giotto left behind in England, along with being indirectly related to Daemon because Daemon was from the French side of James' mother Dorea. So in a way I'm related to five of the seven men who made up the Primo's generation, though most of it is indirectly," explained Xanxus. "Never mind that apparently Giotto was nobility in his own right, which would explain how he even met Daemon and Lampo in the first place."

"Apparently the family Giotto left was an 'ancient and noble' house in England, even before he founded the Vongola. So in a way, our family is technically a noble one since it's a branch of Xanxus' original one," said Daniela openly amused.

The women were beyond fascinated.

"Wouldn't that mean that he has a stronger claim on the Vongola rings?" asked Lilou.

"It's locked to Giotto's branch, not the main one. And even if I did try to fold them back into the main family, then they would have to take my name instead of being called Vongola. I don't know about you, but I don't find the name Potter to be as inspiring as Vongola...even if it does mean 'clam'," said Xanxus dryly. "Personally I'm just waiting for the perfect time to tell that old idiot that I've known from the start he wasn't my father... Never mind the fact we look nothing alike, the time line alone would have made it impossible for him to be my father."

Xanxus liked cold, hard fact. So much so that he had more or less confirmed that Timoteo wasn't his biological father by tracking down where the man was. He had been in a conference surrounded by several other mafioso for over a month during the time frame when he could have been conceived...and there had been no 'special entertainment' involved, so the only women he could have knocked up would have been females all too happy to try and sink their claws into the Vongola with an illegitimate child they could claim was the Ninth's.

A child would have been worth his weight in gold, even if the infant wasn't born in wedlock. After all, there were plenty of people all too eager to get their hands on the infamous Vongola bloodline.

Xanxus had no idea how this conversation would end up biting Timoteo and the Ninth generation in the ass less than a year later. Openly admitting to Daniela's gossip circle, who were all too happy to spread his actual heritage among the mafia elite since he honestly didn't care about it, that he wasn't Timoteo's son or even from the bloodline the man claimed he was meant that he had far more support after the incident. After all, he had made no bones that he wasn't interested in being Decimo and already knew he was ineligible from the start.