"Chin up," Roman Sionis mocks cruelly as he taps two gloved fingers under your chin, tilting your head back. "You're lucky you're my favourite."

It wasn't uncommon knowledge that he was accustomed to mood swings, but you hadn't been expecting him to kill his own workers in a fit of rage, sparing only you in the room. His eyes watch you closely, lips pulled into a slight smirk as he admires the flicker of fear in your eyes. You took this job on board knowing the consequences, after all.