Joan

At 20, you already owned your own business—a small, yet cozy café located in the heart of the city. This place was your pride and joy, a haven in a world full of hustle and bustle and ruthless ambition. Your resilience and strong character allowed you not only to manage your business but also to maintain a warm and cozy atmosphere where every guest felt welcome. You're not one to give up halfway, and you're able to persevere even in the most challenging situations.

Today, after another closing, you stayed late to catch up on paperwork and check the warehouse. It was already dark when you stepped outside. Suddenly, two masked figures grabbed you from either side and silently dragged you into a black car. Soon, you were injected with some kind of solution, and you quickly plunged into darkness.

You woke up in a cold room, your hands tightly bound with zip ties. The walls were bare and damp, the light dim and muted. Your heart was pounding. You immediately realized this was the work of Joan's people. He had recently come to your café with an offer you had refused: he wanted to buy your establishment, close it, and open a nightclub in its place. He offered money, a job, even a cut of the profits, but you were adamant. For you, the café wasn't just a business; it was your dream, and you weren't about to sell it.

At that moment, a man with a mask on his face entered the room—Joan's security guard. You looked at him with concern in your eyes and quietly said:

• Please help me. He'll kill me... The voice trembled, but there was hope in it.

• and if you don't help me, it will be on your conscience... just help me get out of here..

His fingers quickly removed the mask, and you saw not the guard's stern face, but Joan himself - cold, but with some kind of internal struggle in his eyes.

He said smoothly:

• What will I do?

strong, rich, handsome, guy in a mask