Darkness pressed in from every direction.
Not the gentle darkness of night, but the suffocating kind—the kind that clung to skin and breath, heavy with dust and decay. The abandoned building stood far from the city, swallowed by neglect and silence. Broken windows let in thin slivers of moonlight, casting long, jagged shadows across cracked concrete floors.
At the centre of it all sat a woman.
Her wrists were bound tightly behind the back of a metal chair, the rough rope biting into her skin. Another rope cut across her torso, pinning her firmly in place. A strip of black cloth covered her eyes, plunging her into blindness far worse than the darkness around her.
The woman's breathing was uneven.
Each inhale felt shallow. Each exhale trembled.
Her heart pounded so violently it hurt.
Surrounding her were men—large, broad-shouldered silhouettes that moved lazily around her like predators circling wounded prey. Their boots scraped against the floor with deliberate slowness, the sound echoing loudly in the empty space.
One of them chuckled.
"Unlucky girl," a deep voice said. "Of all people, it had to be you."
Another laughed, the sound rough and cruel. "Yeah. Boss really doesn't like it when someone crosses the wrong line."
The woman swallowed hard.
Her lips parted, but no sound came out at first.
The men continued talking as if she weren't there—like she was already finished.
"You know what happened to the last guy who pissed him off?" one of them said casually.
"No," another replied. "But I'm guessing it wasn't pretty."
The first man snorted. "Pretty? He disappeared. Family's still looking. Found his car burned somewhere near the docks. No body."
A third man joined in, his voice low and amused. "Boss said he talked too much. So he made sure he'd never talk again."
The woman's fingers curled into fists behind her back.
Cold fear slid down her spine.
They weren't bluffing.
Another man leaned closer to her, and she felt his presence even without seeing him.
"You hear that?" he murmured. "That's what happens to enemies."
Her chest tightened painfully.
"Y-You're all insane," she burst out suddenly, her voice shaking but sharp with fury. "Do you even know who I am?!"
The men paused.
Then laughter erupted—loud, mocking, echoing off the walls.
"Oh, we know," one of them said between laughs. "That's what makes this fun."
She struggled against the ropes, panic and rage colliding inside her.
"Moonveil group is influential!" Clariss shouted. "If my father finds out I'm missing, he'll hunt you down! Every single one of you! He'll kill you!"
Silence followed.
For one brief, desperate moment, she hoped she had struck fear into them.
Then one of the men laughed again—slow, deep, and utterly unafraid.
"Your family?" he scoffed. "Influential?"
Another chimed in. "You think money and status mean something here?"
A boot scraped closer.
"Listen carefully," the first man said, crouching in front of her. "Your family can't even touch the edges of our boss's shadow."
Clariss' throat went dry.
"N-No," she whispered. "That's impossible."
"Believe it," he said. "This city runs on power. And your family's… small."
Her breathing became ragged.
Her mind raced desperately, searching for something—someone—stronger. Someone untouchable.
And then a name surfaced.
The Navarro family.
The most influential family in the city.
Her heart skipped.
No… she thought frantically. That's impossible. They wouldn't… they couldn't…
Kael Navarro wouldn't go this far.
She clung to that thought like a lifeline.
As if sensing her spiral, footsteps echoed from a distance.
Slow.
Measured.
Each step deliberate.
The men straightened immediately.
Clariss froze.
The air shifted.
The fear that had been simmering exploded into full-blown terror.
"P-Please," she begged suddenly, voice breaking. "Let me go. I'll pay you—double, triple—whatever your boss gave you. I swear. Just let me go."
Her words tumbled over each other in desperation.
"I won't say anything. I'll disappear. I'll leave the city if you want. Please."
The men laughed again—but this time, there was respect in their tone.
"You really don't get it," one said.
The footsteps stopped.
A presence filled the room—quiet but commanding.
The men bowed their heads slightly.
"Boss," one of them greeted.
Clariss' entire body went rigid.
She stopped breathing.
The man who had just arrived didn't speak immediately.
He took his time.
She heard the soft sound of leather shoes against concrete as he walked closer. She felt his attention settle on her like weight.
Then—
He spoke.
Her name.
"Clariss."
Her blood ran cold.
That voice was cold. Controlled.
But there was something beneath it—something sharp and merciless.
She felt the voice was familiar but she could not tell who it was because she was terrified. Her lips trembled.
"H-How do you know my name?" she whispered.
The blindfold remained in place.
She never saw his face.
Only felt the full, crushing realization settle into her bones—
She had made an enemy far more dangerous than she ever imagined.
And the night was only beginning.