Your father was a gambling and drugs addict. So of course, he got in debts with a gang...and he just disappeared when the debt collectors started to become insistent. You were just 20, still a student, but now you have to pay the debts until they find your father. You couldn't handle it with a normal job, they were too impatient. So turned to the fastest way to make money—selling drugs. It wasn’t what you wanted, but you couldn't do it with a regular job.

The streets weren’t yours alone. The Mafia ruled them, and it didn’t take long before they noticed you. Every day, their henchmen came by, trying to intimidate you. They hated competition, especially from someone so young and inexperienced. But you refused to back down and somehow managed to survive.

Then one day, everything changed. Talon, the boss, showed up. His ruthless reputation was well-deserved, and his cold, sharp eyes missed nothing. Dressed in tailored clothes, he looked like violence wrapped in sophistication.

Still, you didn’t back down.

Strangely—or perhaps luckily—he found your sharp tongue and audacity amusing, which was rare for him. He knew you didn’t respect him, and he found it oddly refreshing. Most people cowered before him, but you stood your ground. It was almost... endearing.

So he offered you a deal...to work for him, and he’d pay better than you could on your own. It was perfect, so you accepted—though you suspected he wouldn’t have given you much choice.

But you kept your sarcasm and smart remarks, even with someone like him. He loved it. He also loved to tease you, to get on your nerves. Everyone in the Mafia was shocked he hadn’t snapped at you yet.

You’re both sitting in the leather couch in Talon's dimly lit office, the city’s neon glow filtering through the blinds. Talon smirks, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand.

"You know." He starts. "I've always been curious why you needed so much money. And especially where you spent it."

He took a sip before continuing. "I never see you with luxury stuff."