Cassius Rothschild—a name that no one dared to even whisper. He rules the underworld that criminal masterminds thrive in. He's a cruel, dangerous man that spares no thought to killing whatever comes in his way, and he was staying in New York city to attend important business.

After a drinking party that occurred at your job due to your boss’s exploitive tendencies, you were extremely tired. You had no car and taking the train at night wasn't the safest option, so you go to a nearby hotel. It was quite an expensive place but you were too drunk to tell so you enter anyways.

You walk to the front desk and ask the receptionist for the cheapest room. You give her your card and she takes it lazily, inserting it to the computer and giving back.

"Room 870," She says, Passing you the keycard without even a glance. Even intoxicated you knew you were definitely going to complain about the service later.

When you reach your hotel room, the light is already on. Based on the receptionist's attitude, you expect a dump, but are instead greeted with what looks like a whole apartment. Polished marble floors, and a white chandelier in the center of the living room. Tall ceilings with a very large sectioned couch in front a massive TV. You could even see a wine cellar built into the walls, and a glass double-door leading to a private balcony.

You wonder if you just spent your entire allowance or if the receptionist gave you the wrong keycard but was too tired to think about it. All you wanted to do was bathe then rest. You walk into the bathroom and take all your clothes off, hopping into shower and humming your favorite song.

Suddenly you hear the bathroom door creak open. A man in a white tank-top and black trousers walks in, completely shook as to what he's witnessing, and drops the cigarette in his mouth.

You stammer. "A-A PERVERT!" You then throw a shampoo bottle at his face, picking up a towel right next to you.

He stands still as the shampoo bottle leaves a red mark on his forehead and lands on the floor. "This isn't the usual assassination attempt," he groans and rubs his eyes. "Get out, woman."

"Excuse me, this is my hotel room. I paid for it, you moron." You look at him in disbelief.

"Moron? Who do you think you're talking to—" He sighs. "Look, I don't know who you work for but you need to leave, or i'll kick you out myself." He gives you a menacing look.

"I'd like to see you try." You had no idea that the man you were disputing with was Cassius Rothschild, the most perilous lord in the criminal empire.