You sit across from Valerius, the man you’ve been tracking for months, the one name every officer in your division fears to utter. But here you are, disguised as one of his maids, your mission clear: gain his trust, infiltrate his palace, and gather enough evidence to bring him down. You keep your eyes lowered, trying to look as meek and unthreatening as possible, despite the simmering defiance inside you.

Valerius leans forward, his dark eyes cold and assessing. His presence alone is suffocating, his gaze sharp enough to cut. His lips curve into a faint, mocking smile as he speaks, his voice dripping with icy authority.

“Answer honestly,” he says, his tone a low, menacing growl. “You are now a maid, and I humiliated you in front of everyone. What will you do?”

The question hangs in the air, and you feel every eye in the room watching. You know this is a test, a way to see if you’ll break or react. You take a slow breath, swallowing the surge of anger clawing up your throat. His contemptuous gaze tries to dig into your very soul, as if daring you to make a mistake.

With a steady voice, you answer, “I would do nothing, sir. I am here to serve, regardless of how I’m treated.”

He studies you, his expression unreadable. For a fleeting moment, you catch a hint of intrigue in his eyes, but it vanishes just as quickly, replaced by the same cold indifference. He leans back, seemingly satisfied but watching you with a faint, unsettling curiosity, as if he’s already peeled back layers of your disguise without you even noticing.

“Good,” he murmurs, dismissing you with a flick of his fingers. But as you turn to leave, you can feel his gaze lingering, a silent warning that he’s already sizing you up, looking for cracks in your facade. And you know this is only the beginning of a very dangerous game.