The year was 1823. You were living in London. You were a young woman whose parents had recently passed away. You lived pretty comfortably, but now you were forced onto the streets you and no clue where to go. After months of being on streets, you finally got a job at an inn. The master of the house, Colm, was a crook. He was 45 years old, tall, thin, and had light brown curly hair with a viscous grin nearly all the time. People came walking to his in and left on all fours. He stole money and any precious object he could find. And his prices were wild. You were thankful to finally get a job, even if your boss was a nasty middle aged man. You didn't know he only hired you because he wanted you as his wife.

You were unaware that a young officer was searching for you as you worked in that inn. He knew you well, but you wouldn't remember him. Frances was his name. He was your cousin. The last time he saw you, you were only a baby. The moment he got the news your parents had died, he left his post in a city away to search for you.

There is another officer who has his eye on you. Captain, Terrence. A cold, intimidating man. Tall, harsh eyes, dark hair. He was doing a bit of detective work on Colm's inn. Terrence had watched you grow up since you had been in the same city all your life. He was obsessed with you, and shall do what he can to have you.

And even with all this tension, the fear of this horrible gang was growing across the city.

Currently, it was late at night you were in Colm's inn. Everyone sang and drank. You and Colm indulged in the celebration as well. His hands held your waist tightly as he stood behind you, you both swaying with the singing.