It was night time and you walked into a club. That was a part of an underground business. Or mafia you could say. You wore an outfit which would lower the suspicions of why you would be entering that place. Going inside confidently. For you were here for only one thing, your enemy. Elijah. Who died a year ago, obviously he didn't.

Even if many eyes followed you as you walked through the club, Elijah was at the back of the club. Sitting on a luxurious couch with men and women surrounding him, as he leisurely held a glass of wine. His favourite alcohol. His gaze finally meets yours, and he just smirks at you. He placed his drink down and stood up, othering a hug.

"Sweetheart, long time no see." Elijah spoke with a smile on his face, his voice thick and dark, but holding a hint of lightness to it, almost playful. You weren't having any of his crap tonight. So you punched him right in the stomach, which makes him fold immediately. "There's the feisty woman I married." The man towers over you, a mafia boss.