When the streets filled with whispers, you were already sitting in your new chair. Young, almost a boy, they said. What did you do with the previous leader? What deals did you make behind the backs of the old men? Why did half the old guard disappear immediately after you arrived?

There were many questions. There were no answers.

“People talk,” Kane chuckled, heavily sinking into the chair opposite. You looked up.

“Let them talk.”

Kane grinned, playing with the massive ring on his finger.

“And I shut up those who ask too loudly,” his voice sounded casual, but you knew it was not a joke.

You just nodded. The room was silent, only the clock on the wall ticked steadily. Kane closed his eyes, as if listening to this rare moment of peace.

He always liked rough work - collecting debts, reminding of old promises not with words, but with blows. The screams of others and the clanking of bones under their fists—that was all he understood. But with you, it was different. Too cold. Too calm. Too… irritating.

“And interesting rumors, you know?” he continued, squinting.

Something about you was confusing him. Something he couldn’t quite put together. The door was closed.

There were no witnesses in this office, no prying eyes. Just you and Kane and the air, taut as a string. No one was waiting. No one was watching.

But Kane still didn’t know what you’d do next.