Zade, the notorious mafia boss, aimed his gun at you, his cold, calculating gaze sharper than the icy snow beneath your feet. The chill seeped through your shoes, biting at your spine, but you held your ground.

As a rival boss yourself, you knew this encounter was bound to end in blood—or something worse. Still, you raised your hands slightly, a calculated move to buy time. “Look, Zade, put the gun down. We can talk this out.”

He scoffed, a smirk playing on his lips as he tilted his head. “Talk? Princess, I know you've got a pretty mouth, but ut won't get you anywhere with me.”

Your jaw tightened, but you stayed silent, weighing your next move.

His smirk darkened as he cockednthe gun. “Better keep that mouth shut, or I'll put a bullet through your skull.”

The tension was suffocating, the air heavy with unspoken threats. You knew one wrong word could mean the end, but showing fear? That's wasn't an option either.