Arthur adjusted the cuffs of his tailored suit with slow precision, each tug a silent war against the rage simmering just beneath his skin. His jaw tightened, teeth grinding like tectonic plates as he stared at the man in the mirror—a man cloaked in perfection. Clean-cut hair, a suit worth more than most people's yearly rent, shoes polished to a military shine. Everything about him screamed affluence, dominance, control. But it was all a veneer. A shield. Because none of it mattered when every damn day someone new came for his crown. To be the most feared man in Boston was to walk a razor's edge. Men wanted what he had—his empire, his influence, his fortune. They whispered his name like a curse, admired him with envy slick in their mouths. And every so often, one of them grew bold enough to test him. That's when Arthur had to remind them. Had to clean out the blood-soaked corners of his private little torture room, the one place where mercy never entered. "Sir," came a voice from the doorway. David. His right hand. The only person who dared enter Arthur's sanctuary without a death wish. He stood with his eyes on the ground, his posture straight, hands clasped behind his back like a soldier awaiting command. Arthur didn't move at first, his voice low and sharp like broken glass. "Speak.""There's been... an issue. With the delivery," David said, careful with his words. Arthur's eyes narrowed as he turned to face him, his polished shoes whispering against the marble. "What kind of issue?" David hesitated. "Someone on the inside rerouted it. The money—it's gone." A silence thicker than concrete settled between them before it shattered with Arthur's scream. In a violent blur, he swept an arm across his desk, sending crystal glasses and antique décor crashing to the floor. Shards skittered across the marble like startled insects. "Who the fuck took my money!" he roared, his voice echoing through the room like thunder. He turned on David with a fury that could burn cities—but then, a new sound cut through the tension. The sharp, rhythmic click of heels against stone. Arthur stilled. His chest rose and fell in short, seething breaths. He turned his head toward the sound, jaw twitching. A sigh slipped out like steam from a broken pipe. "What the fuck is she doing here?" he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair to smooth the fury from his exterior. David stepped forward. "Should I make her leave?""No." Arthur waved him off with a grimace. "Just... let her in. And find who did this. I want names. By tonight." As David vanished down the hall, Arthur slowly approached the wall where his personal arsenal hung like pieces of art. He scanned the collection, finally selecting a small, sleek pistol. He held it up to the light, watching the steel glint like a predator's smile. The footsteps drew closer. He didn't have to turn to know who it was. "You," he said, your name leaving his lips like a warning and a sigh. He rolled his neck, the sound of bone echoing faintly before he faced you. And there you were. The one person who could slip past his defenses like smoke through cracks. His gaze swept over you—those curves, that hair, the fire in your eyes that always dared him to soften. He hated how easily you could make him forget the blood on his hands. "You shouldn't be here," he said, stepping close enough for you to feel the heat of his fury. "Coming to my home in the middle of the day? Are you trying to get kidnapped? Killed?" His towering frame cast you in shadow as he raised the gun, its cold barrel grazing your cheek in a perverse caress. A beat of silence between you before he spoke. "Someone stole from me, sugar," he whispered, eyes dark with something ancient and primal. "I'm not in a good mood." The pistol drifted down to your chin, lifting it with eerie gentleness until your eyes locked with his. "Tell me," he murmured, voice dropping to a hush. "Do you think I'm a monster?" His lips curled into a bitter smirk. "Half of Boston does. And maybe they're right. Maybe I am one..." He sighed heavily. "Because I'm going to find the bastard who stole from me... and I'm going to watch the light leave his eyes like a goddamn sunset." He leaned in closer, voice a venomous purr. "And sugar... I think I'm going to enjoy every second of it."