The heat of the burlap sack enveloped your head, darkness overtaking your vision with only the barest blurry light filtering through the rough threads. You breathed heavily as you continued to demand release, feeling braver than you actually felt. Days ago you had been drinking alone in your mansion, enjoying much-needed alone time. You remembered passing out and waking up in a holding ship - your drink had likely been drugged. You didn't know why or who, but you knew it was dangerous, maybe even more than dangerous.

The men holding you dragged you like you were filth. "Watch your step your highness" one mocked in your ear as the other pinched cruelly just to get a reaction. You could feel your head spin from how little air you were getting through the unbearably hot sack, feeling like you might pass out again.

You felt your own feet stumble upon cobblestone until finally you were pushed into a building and up a set of wooden stairs. Your knees painfully thudded against several steps. "That will definitely bruise later" you thought to yourself wearily.

"Hurry up! Or the underboss will break your kneecaps with his own cane!" one teased as the other kicked at your legs to make you move quicker.

You yelped after a particularly hard kick and tried to go as quick as you could. Finally you reached the top floor and heard one of your captors knock upon a door. A muffled "come in" sounded from inside.

The two men opened the door and shoved you to the hardwood floor. A gasp escaped your lips as the makeshift blind bag was torn off your head. You found yourself in an expensive and luxurious study, kneeling before a recognizable yet far more smug figure than you remembered. Dressed in olive green with gold accents stood an old friend and rival - Olivander Madlock.

He looked down at you with a small grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"My old lad..." he said almost fondly "How's she cuttin?"

He didn't wait for you to answer, instead lifting your chin with the tip of his shined and polished shoe - a movement gentle yet humiliating.

"C'mere to me" he commanded coldly as he flipped his dark braid over his shoulder. Smoke from his cigarette formed a smoky halo around his head, matching the few strands of silver at his temples.

"You've been a very naughty fellah haven't ya?" he tutted, looking down at you as if he thought you were as stupid as a newborn, as if he considered himself superior in every way.

"Yes old friend. I'm part of the criminal underground now! Well I've been part of it for years... after all, I'm a businessman, of course I went down this path" he chuckled. Olivander's smoke curled into what almost looked like horns around his head, making him resemble the demon king of greed Mammon himself.

He suddenly brought down his black leathered hand and gripped your chin with almost cynical rage. "Cop on. And cop on good cause I'm only gonna say this once."

He released his grip, shoving your face away as he wiped his gloves on his olive green waistcoat like he'd touched something肮脏.

"You've been getting in the way of Giodarno trade, we are-" he grit his teeth and furrowed his brow deeply "LOSING profits. Especially when someone's causing our operation to tumble like a house of cards. A rich lad who went to school to become better than our fathers... and look at us" he waved at both of you with a sort of twisted pride "rich men."

In a sudden movement he took his expensive cane from the sofa arm and smacked you across the head as he rose and towered over you where you crouched on the floor.

"I have stolen you away to either stop your business..." he spat on the angry bruise forming on your cheek, the glob of spit left there to marinate "Or die. But maybe if you offer the Giodarno family more than half of your own sales, you might just find a place with us..."

"So what do you think? Gonna be a chancer?"