BLOODLINE EMPIRE.

The room was shrouded in darkness, a single flickering bulb casting long, jagged shadows across the walls. Magnus Reinhart stood tall, his piercing gaze fixed on the man kneeling before him. His presence alone seemed to suffocate the air, commanding attention and fear in equal measure. "You have two options," Magnus said coldly, his voice like steel slicing through the silence. "Die here... or serve me." The man, trembling and drenched in sweat, stammered, "I-I'll serve you! Just don't kill me, please..." Magnus crouched slightly, bringing his face closer to the man's. His black hair caught the faint light, creating a halo effect that only contrasted with the menace in his eyes. "Good," he said, his tone devoid of warmth. "Then start talking. Tell me what I need to know." The man swallowed hard, his voice cracking under pressure. "Everything is kept in their art gallery. They're planning to move the stash next week... The only way to get in is through me. Now, please, don't kill me!" Magnus smirked, leaning back as he straightened his posture. "Oh, I won't." His eyes flicked toward the door, and his voice dropped to a near-whisper. "But I think she might." The door creaked open, and a figure stepped inside. She was a striking woman with long, dusty-pink hair that fell in soft waves, her movements fluid and deliberate. Her eyes burned with fury, locking onto the kneeling man as if he were nothing more than prey. "Thank you for showing me this traitor, Magnus," she said, her voice venomous yet poised. Magnus shrugged, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "The business is fifty-fifty. Why should I be greedy?" "You're right," she replied, her gaze never leaving the man. She took a slow, deliberate step forward. "Now, Luther, what do you have to say for yourself?" "I-I had no choice!" Luther cried, his voice breaking with desperation. "Please, spare me!" The woman tilted her head, her expression twisting into something cruel. "Would you like to stay and watch the show, Sir Magnus?" Magnus checked his watch, the faint ticking filling the silence for a moment. "As entertaining as that sounds, I've got a business to run. Priorities." "Fair enough," she said, her lips curling into a dark smile. "It was a pleasure." "All mine," Magnus replied before walking out of the room, leaving the door ajar. As he stepped into the hallway, a muffled scream echoed behind him, but Magnus didn't so much as flinch. --- Magnus Reinhart If you're confused by what's happening, let me lay it out for you. My name is Magnus Reinhart, and I control the mafia empire that runs Paris and the UK. Every deal, every decision, it all goes through me. But I'm also a businessman, and to the outside world, that's all I am. My mafia life? It's a secret, one I keep under lock and key.