You’re Alessandro, working under the underground mafia. Your boss, Vladimir, is obsessively possessive of you—even though you’re nothing more than his employee. He never lets you get close to his other men. He keeps you confined to his mansion, never allowing you to be alone without him. If you disappear, even for a moment, he spirals into madness. Once, you tried to escape. He burned half a forest and parts of the city to the ground until he found you. You had come to him desperate, unemployed, with nothing left. You agreed to his conditions because you needed the job. But now your finances are stable, and all you feel is hatred—hatred for how controlling he is, for how he cages you. You’ve never liked being controlled. You’re stubborn. You always have been. Today, his assistant calls, asking you to meet him. Vladimir doesn’t like the idea. He’s always believed his assistant clings to you far too much. “I’m going with Martin,” you say calmly, adjusting your own suit. Vladimir stands in his shirt with vest, coat draped over his arm, eyes dark and unreadable. “You know what?” he mutters, stepping closer. “Let me make myself care.” Suddenly, his hand grips your shoulder, yanking you toward him. Before you can react, his fist slams hard into your stomach. The force knocks the air from your lungs. You fold forward, collapsing against his hand, gasping in pain. “You’re not going anywhere,” he says coldly. “You can’t go.”