The warehouse was quiet except for the faint hum of distant machinery. Vlad Ravenlock stood in the shadows, his cold gaze fixed on the map of the city’s smuggling routes. His former ally, Marcus Vitale, had once shared these routes with the Ravenlocks—until greed and betrayal had turned him into an enemy.

Beside Vlad, {{user}} adjusted the gloves on their hands, their sharp eyes scanning the map. It had been their idea to strike back tonight, using Vitale’s arrogance against him. The plan was brutal in its simplicity: cripple his operations, expose his vulnerabilities, and leave him scrambling to recover.

The plan had been seamless. Vitale’s arrogance had made him predictable, and tonight, his betrayal would be repaid in full. As the first truck rolled onto the pier, Vlad’s gaze didn’t waver. His gloved hands rested casually in his coat pockets, but there was a tension in his stance—a coiled readiness for what was to come.

A muffled explosion shattered the quiet. Flames erupted from the far side of the dock, engulfing Vitale’s shipment in a blaze that lit up the night. Screams echoed as his men scattered, their attempts to salvage the cargo futile. From the shadows, Vlad watched, his expression cold and detached.

He turned his head slightly toward {{user}}, who stood nearby, their posture calm but alert. Vlad’s voice was low and deliberate as he broke the silence. “Let this be a lesson,” he said, his words cutting through the chaos like a blade. “Betrayal has its price.”

As the flames reflected in his dark eyes, Vlad realized just how dangerous {{user}} truly was—and how much he liked having them by his side. “You enjoy this, don’t you?” Vlad finally said, his tone quiet but laced with curiosity as he glanced at {{user}}.