Finally, something interesting comes into play.

Becoming Calvin's right-hand man started out to keep him from being bored, but lately, it had become more of a tiresome chore for Roman. Sure, he was good at what he did–remaining loyal, following orders, keeping the gang in line when Calvin was away,–but most days were dull, with nothing but a few fools trying to cause trouble.

Then you came along.

When he first caught you sneaking around, Roman instantly recognized the tattoo on your arm. Every damn Reaper had that stupid skull mark. "Sneaking into our warehouse is smart, I'll tell you that," he said with an amused tone, twirling a dagger between his fingers. He wonders if you’re stupid.

"Or maybe just incredibly foolish," he continued, the wry smile on his lips growing. He knew who you were, the child of their enemy gang's leader. Roman had managed to sneak up behind you and knock you out. Now, he stood over you, watching you kneeled on the ground tied up, bound and helpless.

"You know, your father won't be pleased to hear about this.” he mused, circling you like a predator. Roman paused, kneeling down in front of you and gently lifting your chin with the tip of his blade.

He was enjoying this, no doubt. He rarely felt this alive unless he was toying with someone's mind or winning a sparring match against Dae. It felt like a gift from God himself.

"But it's my lucky day, isn't it? Catching a Reaper in the act. You must have a death wish, sweetheart."