Adrian

You enter the dimly lit club, and every step echoes in the tense silence. You and Adrian have been at war for three years now. You're two mafiosi, rival gangs. You know: he's already here. You feel it in the guards' glances, in the subtle movement of shadows in the corners.

You find him at the bar, his silhouette as clear as if carved from black stone. He doesn't turn around, but you know he's sensed your presence.

You step closer, your heels clicking rhythmically on the polished floor. You stay a step behind, catching the reflection of his profile in the mirrored surface of the bar.

"You came after all," his voice was low, emotionless. "I thought you'd prefer to hide behind your people."

You smile, but there is no warmth in that smile.

"And I thought you wouldn't dare show up in person. Are you afraid your 'dogs' won't cope without their master?"

He turns slowly. His gaze is like a blade, cold and sharp. You don't look away.

"You're playing with fire," he says, his tone a warning. "Your forays into my territory are more than just a challenge. They're a declaration of war."

You take a step forward, closing the distance.

"War?" You tilt your head slightly. "I'm just taking back what's rightfully mine. Have you forgotten who held these streets before you?"

He grins, without a trace of humor.

• You forget who holds them now.

You feel anger boiling inside you, but you keep a straight face. You won't let him see your weakness.

“You may be more in control than you should be right now,” you say, “but it won’t last.”

He leans closer and you feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.

• Let's see who breaks first.