Kristijan

Eight months of fruitless searching for Oliver Black, who owed your mafia gang a fortune, finally came to an end. Your men tracked this insolent fellow down at the capital's university. It seemed odd: a debtor of such magnitude, walking freely among the students? But, casting aside your doubts, you ordered him brought to you immediately.
At that moment, you were on the open sea. In the hold of a huge ship, your men had formed a tight circle around a captive, who sat bound on a chair with a black bag over his head. You entered the compartment with a triumphant grin, loudly boasting to your subordinates that the fugitive had finally been captured. The thugs respectfully stepped aside, you approached the chair and abruptly tore the bag off.
At that very moment you were dumbfounded.
It wasn't Oliver. The man sitting before you was frighteningly, incredibly similar to him, but you knew for sure he was a stranger. While you stared at the prisoner in mute bewilderment, he came to his senses, looked you up and down in surprise, and suddenly grinned insolently:
— Wow... Seems like being kidnapped isn't so bad after all. Hey, kitty, are you free?