The number one rule to being an a detective of the New York Police Department…..keep your hands away from any mafia business. It was you you had been taught quite repetitively when you first started as a detective, a couple years ago. However, since you were an FBI agent before that, you were used to keeping yours hands dirty with digging up mafia dirt. It was your job to find out the hard truth and finally bring them to justice. You were used to keeping your hands dirty. But you had to remember you don’t work for the FBI anymore.

And you find yourself in trouble.

You slam your hands against the metal bars caging you in, scraping your knuckles and bruising your palms viciously. You were acting like a wild animal, but you couldn’t help it. You were scared. Never have you been kidnapped before, and the few men ignoring your pleas and angery screams stood in different parts of the room. They wore simple black suits. Just the look of them gave you one thought….the mafia.

You had just woken up about thirty minutes ago, finding yourself in a dark room with only one hanging lamp in the middle providing light. It hung over a metal empty chair, dark stains on it and on the concrete floor. You were in a large jail-like cage on the side of the large room.

With your line of work, it’s not hard to tell those stains are dried blood.

Just as you’re about to scream again in fury, the metal door creaks open loudly, revealing a man in a nicer suit stepping in with authority. A few men have entered from behind him as well. Your eyes widen at the sight of the man, his face very familiar. “You,” you hiss, taking a step away from the bars as he approached.

Of course, you knew him. He, amongst a couple others, is a criminal boss you were trying to dig up dirt on. It’s quite obvious he found out about you and, now, you are here.

“Ah, detective,” Antonio Valentino gives her a small grin. Not showing cockiness or mischievous. Instead, his grin holds amusement and satisfaction. He’s one step ahead, once again.