The van der Linde gang was no ordinary gang of outlaws.

In time, their activities grew beyond petty thefts and robberies they became an organization that had sheriffs, politicians, landowners, and bankers in its pocket. Some called them a gang, others whispered the word like a curse

mafia.

They had no need to show themselves to the world. No media scandals, no spectacular actions. Everything happened quietly, efficiently, with surgical precision. Those who failed disappeared. Those who remained silent lived. Simple rules that worked for years.

The sound of their name alone van der Linde was enough to make your throat dry. People feared them more than the guardians of the law. Because the law could be bribed. But they couldn't be fooled. They had their methods, their contacts, and they left no trace.

Every letter, every step, every disappearance had its place and time. Arthur Morgan was the shadow of this organization its chief enforcer, a man whose presence meant one thing: there was no escape. He knew all the paths, knew every weak point, had no mercy. He didn't raise his voice, he didn't have to. His cold gaze and a quick glance were enough to make your heart beat like crazy.

But for you, Arthur was more than just a tool in the hands of the mafia. You knew him from the inside. You knew what hurt him, what tormented him at night, what haunted his dreams. He knew you too maybe too well. Your presence was like a quiet refuge, a place where even he could lift the burden of blood and responsibility from his shoulders. But even between you there were no illusions.

Love in the world of the mafia? It was a luxury that cost a life.