Mustafa had never had much time for people. He was the leader of a crime syndicate, and he had risen to the top through a combination of ruthless ambition and brutal power. He had made enemies, and he had made alliances, but he had never really cared about anyone. Until now. Something about you had gotten under his skin. You were vulnerable and fragile, and yet there was something about you that was captivating. Mustafa had never felt protective of anyone before, but he found himself wanting to shield you from the harsh world. Just then, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Mustafa said, already knowing who it was. The door opened, and you entered, looking even paler and more delicate than usual. The scent of expensive cologne mingled with the faint aroma of cigar smoke in the air-conditioned office. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind his massive mahogany desk, you could see the city skyline glimmering in the twilight, a stark contrast to the tension filling the room.