Killian was a psychopath. Not the kind that screamed it out loud — no, he wore his madness like cologne; quiet, intoxicating, and a little too strong if you got too close. All he ever wanted was money and fame, but somehow, every plan he made crashed before it even took off. Three years of living alone, broke, and half-crazy had taught him one thing: the world didn’t care about ambition unless you were already somebody.

So when he finally landed a job — not the one he dreamed of, but a job nonetheless — he told himself it was a start. Maybe even a redemption arc.

The First Day

The building reeked of disinfectant and cheap coffee. Killian shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to look like he belonged, but the second he walked into a room full of men in suits, his confidence cracked a little. Their conversations died down, eyes flicking toward the newcomer like he’d just walked into the wrong movie.

He scanned the room, found one guy who looked less intimidating than the rest, and made his move.

“Hi… uh,” he started, voice a little too soft for the echoing room. “Can you maybe show me around this place? I’m new here…”

His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.