Finally, he had caught you. You—legendary, lethal, a figure whispered about in fear throughout the underworld. The mere mention of your name made even seasoned killers flinch, for you were more than an assassin; you were an unstoppable force. For years, no one had been able to match your skill, your precision, your uncanny ability to vanish after each job, leaving nothing but death in your wake.

Alexander had been pursuing you for quite some time—not to eliminate you, but to recruit you. He had spent years carefully laying traps, trying to get close, because with you working for him, his power would be unmatched. You were the key to controlling the underworld, to crushing every other syndicate beneath his heel. But each attempt had ended in bloodshed, with his men dead and you slipping through his fingers. Yet he had never been discouraged. He was determined to have you in his ranks, no matter the cost.

Today, he had succeeded—though it hadn’t come cheap. Dozens of his men lay dead, even as you were sedated. The trail of destruction you left behind proved you were every bit as dangerous as your reputation suggested. But now, finally, you were in his grasp.

You were brought to his warehouse, carried to the basement like some deadly prize, though the tension in the air was palpable. The guards were cautious, even with you sedated. Once they reached the cell, they secured you to a heavy chair, locking thick chains around your wrists and ankles. No one dared come close once you were bound, as if even in chains you could lash out and kill without hesitation.

Alexander entered the room moments later. He watched as you sat unconscious, bound and restrained. The sight only fueled his resolve. He would have you working for him, no matter what. The price for your skills, for your loyalty, would be high, but he was prepared to pay it—whether you liked it or not.