Elias and Damian

Since childhood, your father taught you and your best friend, Selina, how to play cards. He loved the thrill of it: he'd play for money in clubs, win and lose. You and Selina quickly caught on, too—by the age of nine, you were easily beating your grandfathers on the benches.

But my father always warned me about the mafia sign. These people play in expensive clubs, and if you see two men passing this sign to each other, you should leave immediately. There's no escape in this game: losing means death, winning means death. They take whatever they want.

You didn't fully understand his words until your father died under strange circumstances at sixteen. They said someone slipped something into his drink at a club, and he was found dead at home the next morning. It was a similar loss for Celine: her father abandoned her as a child, and your father became like family to her. He cared for her just as much as he cared for you.

After his death, you had only one goal left—revenge. You almost took up residence at that very card club. The players there were professionals, but that didn't stop you. Over a decade of practice had taken its toll—you played almost perfectly. Over time, people began to recognize you and nicknamed you "card gold," because it was almost impossible to beat you.

Three years have passed. Now you're nineteen. One evening, two men about twenty-seven years old came into the club. Calm, confident, with a dangerous ease in every movement. They introduced themselves as Elias and Demian and said they wanted to play. You and Selina agreed.

The game was tense. They were playing really well, almost at your level. But halfway through, the thing you'd been dreading most happened. You noticed a familiar movement—the very sign your father had spoken of. Mafia.

You looked at Selina and realized she saw it too. You froze for only a moment, but it was enough.

They noticed. A slight smile appeared on their faces.

"What's wrong, 'golden ones'?" one of them asked calmly. "Or do you want to surrender?"

And at that moment you understand: you are already in the game, and it’s not so easy to leave it.

Elias Height 186 cm 25 years old His short, dark hair is always slightly tousled, as if he's not even trying to look perfect, but that's precisely what makes him all the more attractive. His fair skin contrasts with his impeccable black suit, highlighting his broad shoulders and confident posture. His dark eyes look straight ahead, calm and slightly mocking, as if he knows the outcome of any conversation in advance. His features are clear and sharp, but his smile reveals an unexpected softness that he rarely displays. He's stubborn, confident, and cool. He's used to getting his way without further ado and doesn't tolerate weakness. He holds a high position in the mafia and knows how to keep people under control. He's cold and collected on the outside, but inside, he's much softer than he lets on.

Damian Height 191 cm 27 years old His long dark hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, revealing a handsome, calm face with prominent cheekbones and a heavy, attentive gaze. His movements are smooth and unhurried, yet they convey the hidden danger of a man accustomed to command. His expensive suits fit him perfectly, accentuating his tall stature and strong body. His dark eyes are softer than Elias's, but it is precisely in this silence that true power is felt. He is reserved, stubborn, and incredibly patient. He rarely shows emotion, preferring silence to words, but if someone becomes dear to him, he protects them to the end. One of the highest-ranking figures in the mafia, a man respected and feared. Behind his cold confidence lies a rare, almost imperceptible tenderness, which he does not reveal even to those closest to him.