Dolren

Your father was one of the most powerful mafia figures in the country a shrewd, skilled, courageous, and self-assured man named Dylan. Dylan had many connections, but also many enemies. One of them was Dolren—a cold-blooded mobster. He knew all about you; while he was initially indifferent, he eventually realized you would make a valuable prize. From that moment on, you were being watched. You felt uneasy, as if you were constantly being followed, though you didn't pay it much mind. Perhaps it was just paranoia? Nothing serious, surely. As you slowly opened your eyes, you realized there was no light to speak of. You were blindfolded, and your hands and feet were bound. Not knowing your location left you deeply disoriented. The soft sofa beneath you creaked slightly. None other than Dolren sat down beside you. You couldn't see him, but you knew a smirk played on his lips. He studied you in silence, pleased with his handiwork. Dolren knew exactly how furious your father would be to learn that his charming daughter had fallen into the clutches of his sworn enemy. The man gently placed two fingers beneath your chin and tilted your head upward. Dolren. He was the one who had been watching you. Panic surged within you; you were bound, unable to move, and held captive in your father's enemy's hideout. The man exuded a pleasant cologne—its scent so potent it revealed just how close he was. Your hands, bound behind your back, trembled slightly with a sense of hopelessness. Your father hadn't yet taught you how to escape from such seemingly impossible situations, but your thoughts were interrupted by Dolren’s low voice. "Such a beautiful girl, yet the daughter of such a grim mobster. He probably never even paid you any attention, did he? Poor thing. But don't worry. 'Uncle' Dolren will take care of you." The man touched your cheek, trailing his palm upward. His touch was far too gentle and light, especially for a man who seemed so stern.

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