The rain lashed against the windows of the 20th-floor penthouse, a rhythmic pounding that echoed the storm brewing inside. The room was dark, save for the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the tall glass walls. Marcus Grayson stood motionless, his tall frame casting an imposing shadow in the dimly lit space. His white shirt clung to his sculpted body, veins visible beneath the taut fabric. His sharp, angular features betrayed no emotion, but his piercing blue eyes, cold and unyielding, could freeze a soul with a single glance.

A knock shattered the silence.
“Enter,” Marcus growled, his voice a dangerous, low rumble that could make grown men tremble.

The door creaked open, and a subordinate entered, visibly shaking as he approached. The man held a file, his hands trembling so badly the papers threatened to spill.

“Speak,” Marcus commanded, his gaze sharp enough to cut.

“W-we found him, sir,” the man stammered.

Marcus turned slowly, his movements deliberate, his expression unreadable. Then came the smile—a slow, cruel curve of his lips that sent a shiver down the room’s temperature. “Good,” he said softly, dangerously.

His tone was calm, but the promise of violence lingered in the air like a coiled snake ready to strike. He stepped forward, his presence alone suffocating, and the man stumbled back.

“You’ve done well,” Marcus said, though his voice held no warmth. “Pray you don’t disappoint me again. If you do...” He leaned closer, his breath brushing against the man’s ear. “I’ll rip you apart piece by piece, starting with your tongue.”

The sleek black car roared through the rain-drenched streets like a predator hunting its prey. Marcus sat in the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel with a quiet intensity. The city seemed to hold its breath as his car passed. Pedestrians froze in terror, their gazes fixed on the ominous symbol emblazoned on the hood—a mark that meant power, fear, and death.

The car screeched to a halt in the middle of an abandoned intersection, the sound cutting through the rain. Marcus stepped out, his black coat billowing in the wind. The rolled-up sleeves of his shirt revealed the veins running up his forearms, a visible reminder of his strength. His piercing blue eyes scanned the scene with deadly precision, taking in every detail like a predator sizing up its prey.

Two of his men dragged a bloodied, broken figure from a nearby van. The man whimpered as he was thrown at Marcus’s feet, his face swollen and unrecognizable.

Marcus crouched, his movements calculated, his presence suffocating. “Look at me,” he demanded, his voice a deadly whisper.

The man raised his head weakly, tears mixing with the blood on his face.

“You thought you could betray me?” Marcus asked, his tone deceptively soft. He reached for a knife, the blade glinting in the rain. “Do you have any idea who I am? What do I do to men like you?”

The man tried to speak, but Marcus didn’t care. He grabbed a needle and thread from his assistant, his actions methodical. He held the man’s head steady, ignoring the weak attempts to resist, and began sewing his eyes shut. Each stitch was slow, deliberate, and merciless, the man’s screams muffled by the rain.

When the man’s eyes were sealed, Marcus retrieved a long knife from his coat. Without hesitation, he sliced the man’s tongue, letting it fall to the ground with a sickening thud. Blood poured from the man’s mouth, pooling at Marcus’s feet, but he didn’t flinch.

“Let this be a lesson,” Marcus said, his voice cold as ice. “You should have thought twice before crossing me.”

He drew the blade across the man’s throat—not deep enough to kill, but enough to ensure prolonged suffering. The man collapsed in a heap, writhing in agony.

From the corner of his eye, Marcus caught movement—a figure running toward them through the rain.

“Stop!” a voice cried out.

Amelia Miller

Amelia Miller was a stark contrast to the world she had stumbled into. She was petite but striking, her soft brown eyes filled with warmth and determination. Her honey-colored hair clung to her face, drenched from the rain, but she didn’t care. She was the kind of woman who wore her heart on her sleeve, driven by a need to help others, no matter the cost.

And today, that kindness would be her downfall.

She knelt beside the bloodied man, her hands trembling as she tried to stop the bleeding. “Please, someone help him!” she pleaded, her voice breaking with desperation.

Marcus watched her with cold amusement, the faintest flicker of curiosity in his otherwise dead eyes.

“Who the fuck are you?” he growled, his voice a low, menacing rumble.

Amelia looked up, her wide eyes meeting his icy gaze. “He’s hurt! He’s going to die if you don’t—”

Marcus’s laugh cut her off, sharp and cruel. In an instant, he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her away from the man and dragging her toward his car.

“You dare to interfere with my business?” Marcus hissed, his face inches from hers.

“Let me go!” she screamed, clawing at his hand, but his grip was unrelenting.

“You think you can defy me?” Marcus’s voice was deadly calm. He shoved her into the car like a ragdoll and followed, slamming the door shut behind him.

Inside the car, the air was heavy with tension. Marcus grabbed her neck, forcing her to look at him. His blue eyes bored into hers, a chilling reminder of the monster she had just crossed.

“You wanted to save him?” Marcus said, his voice low and menacing. He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. In my world, disobedience has consequences. And you...” He leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. “You will pay for yours.”

Amelia’s heart pounded, fear coursing through her veins as Marcus leaned back, his smirk turning into a full-fledged grin of cruelty.

Amelia sobbed uncontrollably, her hands trembling as she begged, “Please, let me go... I didn’t mean to interfere, I swear!” Her voice cracked with desperation, but Marcus only leaned in closer, his icy gaze piercing through her soul.

“This is my world,” he growled, his voice rough and menacing, each word slicing like a blade. “I control the fucking mafia world and people of my world. And you? You fucking girl dared to disrespect my command, to stick your pathetic nose where it didn’t belong. You’ve fucked up yourself, девочка, and now you’re trapped in a nightmare of your own making. There’s no escape. You’ll learn exactly what happens to those who cross me... and trust me, you never forget.....................”

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