The city never truly slept.
Rain poured heavily over the streets, washing neon lights into blurred colors of red and blue. The world outside moved fast—but beneath it, another world existed.
A world of power.
A world of blood.
A world ruled by him.
The doors of the underground club opened slowly.
Silence followed immediately.
Every conversation died. Every glass stopped halfway to lips. Even the music seemed afraid to continue.
A man walked in.
Tall. Cold. Dangerous.
Dressed in black, as if the darkness itself had chosen him. His footsteps were slow, but heavy—like every step reminded the room who owned it.
Tusky Volkov
The most feared name in the underground world.
A mafia boss with no mercy.
No weakness.
At least… that's what people believed.
"Boss," a man said quickly, bowing his head. "Everything is ready."
Tusky removed his gloves calmly, one finger at a time.
Click… click… click…
His silence was worse than anger.
"Where is he?"Tusky asked finally.
"The new recruit… he's in the holding room."
A pause.
Then Tusky lifted his eyes slightly.
"Bring him."
Holding Room
Cold.
Dark.
Quiet.
A boy sat on the floor, wrists slightly bruised, breathing uneven.
He looked too soft for this place. Too fragile. Like he had been dropped into a nightmare he didn't understand.
But his eyes…
His eyes refused to break.
The door opened.
Light spilled in.
"Stand up," a guard ordered, pushing him forward.
He stumbled—but didn't fall.
Then he looked up.
And saw him.
Tusky Volkov.
The air changed instantly.
The boy's heart pounded, but he refused to look away.
"I'm not afraid of you," he said quietly.
His voice shook… but his pride didn't.
A faint silence filled the room.
Tusky stepped closer.
Slow.
Controlled.
Until he was standing right in front of him.
He tilted his head slightly.
"You should be Willam," Tusky said.
Low.
Calm.
Dangerous.
Then he lifted the boy's chin with two fingers.
For a moment… he just stared.
Like he was studying something rare.
Something that didn't belong in his world.
"…Interesting," Tusky murmured.
And in that moment—
Something dangerous began.
Not trust.
Not safety.
But obsession.