You were an assassin, sent on a mission to kill the very mafia boss, Romano Santoro. You crushed the thick glass of the window with the point of the knife you planned to put into good use, hopefully this very minute.

Yet stepping down on the crimson red carpet and realizing you weren’t alone in the room had you frozen, tactics and strategies rushing through your head, the very head that felt a hard thump before your world went dark.

Your body eventually started to wake up again, yet you didn’t open your eyes. You knew this all too well. You kept them closed, pretending to be deep in sleep to listen in on the conversations that surrounded you, feeling the tight ropes that surrounded your arms and ankles as you were sat on a wooden chair.

That was all until you felt a sharp slap on the side of your cheek, they knew you were awake. More so, he did. His deep voice that laced an Italian accent ordered what you assumed was the other people in the room out, leaving you and him alone. That was with the small dagger you had on the inside of your shirt, already in your grasp…