"Come in, Damian," the woman said with a forced smile on her face as she stepped aside, allowing the handsome young man to walk through.
As Max stepped past the towering double doors, the first thing that greeted him was the overwhelming aura of opulence. The floors were made of polished black marble, so pristine they reflected the chandelier lights above like still water. Each click of his shoes echoed faintly before being swallowed by the vast interior.
Just ahead was a grand staircase, wide and spiraling, framed by golden railings shaped like creeping vines. A crimson carpet ran up its center, muffling footsteps while exuding regal luxury. The sight made the house feel more like a palace than a home.
To the left, a spacious lounge opened up, adorned with lush cream-colored couches, a glass coffee table holding an untouched wine decanter, and walls covered in rich beige wallpaper trimmed with gold. Every detail seemed deliberately placed, carefully designed to impress.
Abstract and classical paintings hung across the walls, vivid depictions of warriors, lovers, and gods frozen in dramatic moments. A towering bookcase stood in one corner of the lounge, filled with leather-bound books, some looking far too ancient to be touched. Dust had not even dared to settle there, a silent testament to wealth and perfection.
The scent of rosewood and sandalwood lingered faintly in the air, mixing with the cool breath of the air-conditioning. Crystal wall lamps glowed gently, casting a soft golden hue throughout the house and making even the shadows appear elegant.
To the right, an archway led into a modern kitchen with shining chrome appliances and marble countertops — untouched, as if existing only for show, more decoration than utility.
The staircase led up to the second and third floors, each protected by carved wooden doors with etched golden handles. At the top of the second flight sat a massive double door, clearly the master bedroom, guarded by two towering statues of lion-headed warriors.
Their eyes gleamed with polished stones, giving the unsettling illusion that they were watching every movement, judging all who dared approach.
"Woah!" Max’s eyes shone brightly as he stared at how beautiful and wealthy the entire house looked. He could not help but exclaim in awe, his voice carrying across the polished hall.
"Beautiful, right?" The woman chuckled as she gestured toward a sofa, though her voice carried a nervous edge. "So, what would you like to take?"
"Uhm... I’m good, thanks. I feel like we should get straight down to business as soon as possible," Max replied, his gaze sliding over her figure from top to bottom.
Even now, she made no effort to straighten her hair. It hung over her face deliberately, as if concealing something.
’Come to think of it, why is her left eye covered by her hair? And she isn’t even trying to move it away,’ Max thought, suspicion flickering in his expression as he studied her closely.
"Oh! You are eager, I see," the woman chuckled again, though the sound was brittle. "But I insist. You can’t come to my home and not be offered something. It would not be proper."
Max shook his head, rising from the sofa with unhurried confidence. He took a single step toward her, but the woman immediately shifted back, avoiding him without a word.
Noticing this, Max paused and narrowed his eyes, observing her again from head to toe. The tension in the air was undeniable, heavy enough to press against his skin.
"I already took something before I came, so I would like us to get down to business as soon as possible," Max said firmly. This time he did not wait. He moved forward in a few brisk steps until he stood directly before her.
She was unable to react quickly enough as Max’s hand slid around her waist, pulling her body against his. Yet even then, she kept her gaze lowered, refusing to meet his eyes.
"Do you know," Max began softly, lifting his hand to hold her chin and tilt it upward until her face was aligned with his, "you’re beautiful."
With slow deliberation, he brushed back the strands of hair covering her left eye. And then he saw it.
’What the hell?!’ Max screamed in his mind as he staggered back a step, his eyes widening to properly examine the woman’s face.
She had a black eye. And not black as in her iris, no, this was the brutal kind of black eye that came from repeated beatings.
Her left eye was swollen badly, the skin around it bruised purple and red. Her forehead was wrapped in a strip of stained bandage, a clear sign of recent violence.
"Please... run," the woman mouthed silently, her lips trembling. That was when Max’s instincts fully kicked in.
His pupils narrowed to sharp slits, glowing faintly yellow as his gaze sharpened unnaturally.
He twisted his head and scanned the house, letting the skill reveal what ordinary sight could not. That was when he saw it.
The main compound outside, which had looked empty a moment ago, was now brimming with yellow life force energy.
Max remembered his earlier test back in the slums — yellow energy belonged to humans.
And right now, there were about fifty of them outside, surrounding the house like a net closing in. His gaze snapped upward, and on the staircase above, he caught the slow, deliberate movement of another yellow energy source heading down.
"I’m sorry," the woman mouthed again, tears threatening to spill from her bruised eyes. Max stood frozen, confused and calculating, when suddenly...
The sound of slow, mocking claps echoed across the grand hall. Each step was unhurried, deliberate, carrying authority and danger. From the staircase, the figure behind the applause finally came into view.
It was a man who looked to be in his early forties, a cigarette dangling lazily from the corner of his mouth. His deep black eyes scanned the living room with casual arrogance, as though he owned not only the house but the air itself.
Though he stood only about 5ft tall, his build told another story — wide, brutal shoulders packed with muscle, obvious beneath the tight sleeveless shirt he wore.
Strange tattoos wound across his arms like living serpents, curling all the way down to his fingers. On those fingers glittered countless rings, each one gleaming faintly in the golden light.
Max’s eyes lingered on them. That faint red tint... the rings were stained with blood. His gaze darted back to the woman, and instantly, he recognized the patterns etched into her bruised skin. They matched the designs of the rings.
’This is her husband?!’ Max realized with a jolt.
"Well, well, well. So the rumors are true, huh, Mia," the man’s deep voice rolled across the hall like thunder. He now stood at the base of the staircase, about six meters away from the duo, and his presence alone filled the room with menace.
"You really do sneak off to the red-light district," he continued, clicking his tongue mockingly. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. How demeaning. How embarrassing, for the wife of the famous Mafia boss Carl to be satisfying herself with male prostitutes. That is so... not good." His tone dripped with mock disappointment as he shook his head slowly.
"Ca... Carl, please, don’t hurt him," Mia pleaded, standing protectively by Max’s side despite her trembling. "He has never done anything with me. Today was supposed to be his first day."
"Oh really?!" Carl snarled, his voice rising. "And yet you decided to bring him into my house so you could have fun here?!" His face twisted with fury. "The fuck is wrong with you, Mia? Am I not enough for you?!"
His roar boomed through the mansion, making Mia flinch violently in fear.
Max didn’t know what possessed him in that moment, but the words slipped from his lips before he could stop them.
"Obviously, if you were satisfying her enough, she wouldn’t be out seeking validation elsewhere, now would she?"
The room fell silent.
"What did you say?!" Carl’s roar was deafening, his face contorting in pure rage. Even Mia froze in horror, her eyes darting to Max with dread, silently begging him to stop before it was too late.
’No... no, no, no. Damian, you shouldn’t have said that. You could have walked away alive, but now...’
"I said," Max repeated, his tone calm yet sharp as a blade, "if you were doing your duty properly as her man, as her husband, she wouldn’t be out here looking for someone who could do it better. Now, would she?" A smirk spread across his lips, daring the mafia boss to react.
Veins bulged across Carl’s forehead, rage twisting his features until he looked more beast than man.
"Screw you!" Carl bellowed as his hand shot behind his back. In one swift motion, he yanked something out and aimed it forward.
The barrel glinted in the light as it locked squarely onto Max’s chest.
For the first time that day, Max instinctively took a step back. The situation had officially gone too far.