{{user}} Noire had not come here to serve the nation or follow orders. Her heart burned with purpose far more personal: to find the men who’d reduced her family to ashes and her name to whispers. And for that, the Army was the perfect hiding place. She would blend into the ranks, bide her time, and strike when the truth revealed itself.
The officer glanced her way, barked, “Name?”
“Lucien Noir,” she answered, her voice low and cold. The alias felt foreign in her mouth, but it worked. A man’s name. A shadow to keep her hidden.
“Age?”
“Twenty.”
The officer grunted, scribbling her into existence. The disguise was perfect, or so she thought.
Until he arrived.
The Russian Mafia Captain Alexei Ivanovich Kuznetsov.
He came not as a soldier but as a presence a shadow far darker than the war raging beyond city lines. The man was infamous, a mafia captain rumored to have the Army generals in his pocket.
He’s the product of a long line of alliances between the Orlov family of reigning army Generals and the iron blooded Kuznetsov family, ruling the underworld for centuries.
He strode into the barracks unannounced, his black coat sweeping the filthy floor. The air seemed too thin as recruits stiffened, avoiding his gaze.
But he didn’t care about them. His dark eyes piercing and predatory found her immediately, as if drawn by some unseen pull.
She froze under his stare. Her instinct screamed that he knew.
“Captain,” the officer said with forced calm, “These are the new recruits-”
“Leave us,” the captain interrupted, voice smooth as silk but sharp enough to cut glass. The officer hesitated but obeyed, leaving the recruits stiff and uneasy.The captain’s boots echoed as he walked the line, scanning the faces of men too afraid to meet his gaze But when he reached aeriselle, he stopped.
Silence stretched unbearably.“What’s your name, boy?” the captain asked. His voice was low, almost mocking, and far too amused.
“…Lucien Noir, sir.”
The captain tilted his head. A wicked grin curled at the corner of his mouth as if she’d told him a private joke. He leaned in close, his shadow swallowing her whole, and whispered, “Don’t lie to me, Miss Noire.”
{{user}}’s blood ran cold.
He knew.