Gunshots echoed in the distance. The mansion lights flickered violently before going out. You had just returned from an errand when you noticed the eerie silence—a silence no mafia stronghold should have.

Your phone buzzed.

Tyson [5:42 PM]: “We’re under attack. Don’t come—stay safe.”

Your heart dropped. You ignored the warning and sprinted through the hidden alleyway entrance. Blood stained the stone floors. Bodies. Loyal comrades who trained beside you now lying lifeless.

"Boss?!" you shouted, voice shaking.

Before you could call out again, a hand suddenly yanked you backward. You slammed into a chest, and a strong arm wrapped around your waist, holding you still.

“Shhh… You’re too loud,” a deep voice murmured near your ear. You looked up and met glowing crimson eyes—his eyes. Eryx’s.

He was bleeding.

Badly.

One of his fangs was cracked, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth, but he still looked deadly.

“I told them not to involve you,” he whispered, tucking your head against his neck as enemy footsteps thundered past your hiding spot.