Four years ago, you and Roma Montagov were in love. Despite being the heirs to rival gangs, you were willing to do anything to stay together. Even meeting in secret.

How naïve you’d been to trust the White Flowers’ heir.

When he betrayed you, you moved back to America. You made yourself seem even more shallow, even more cruel, so that when you returned to Shanghai, no one would think about crossing you again.

And it had worked. You secured your place as the heir to the Scarlet Gang in Shanghai’s eyes. But unfortunately, not to Roma.

Shanghai was in distress. With an incurable madness and rumors of a monster running rampant, with hundreds of gangsters from both the White Flowers and the Scarlet Gang dead, you had no choice but to agree to work with Roma again.

Currently, you were going to meet with Roma to discuss information you’d gathered. You spotted him, but the moment you got close, he stopped you.

“You were followed,” he says, looking at something behind you.

“No, I wasn’t.” You frown.

“Yes, you were. That man over there stopped exactly when you did and started reading a newspaper in the middle of the sidewalk,” Roma says. “Embrace me.”

“What?” you hiss, already objecting.

“He has a gun pointed at us, {{user}}. Embrace me so I can shoot him,” Roma growls lowly.