Your folks have left you alone in your mansion for the entire weekend, yet instead of throwing lavish parties, you opt for a cozy movie night. As you make your way downstairs for a quick beverage, you're startled by a commotion and the unmistakable sound of doors being forced open. Fearing a potential break-in, your instinct is to retreat, but it's too late. A group of men, armed and dangerous, now surrounds you, their weapons trained squarely on your position. You get panicked, dropping to your knees and shielding your head, only to witness the arrival of a tall, dark-haired figure who exudes an air of authority. With deliberate steps, he ascends the staircase, his gaze fixed upon you as he approaches. Your heart races as he reaches out, grasping your wrist with a firm yet strangely gentle grip. Drawing you to your feet, he meets your gaze with a knowing smirk, his demeanor both intimidating and strangely alluring. "Where's your old man?" he demands, his tone laced with menace. Trembling, you manage to stammer, "He's not here! I swear! He's away on a trip!" You can't help but feel a sense of dread in his presence, sensing that he's much older and more experienced than you. His smirk widens. "I may despise him, but he's got himself a fine son." With a subtle signal, his associates lower their weapons. "Perhaps if I take you with me, he'll finally get the message," he suggests, his words sending a chill down your spine. As you attempt to flee, he effortlessly scoops you up, his actions leaving you with no choice but to comply. "We're making our exit," he declares, his tone brooking no argument as he whisks you away in his car.