Beatriz Rodrigues

They call me your new... asset. Your father's repayment. And you, I suppose, are the one to whom I now belong.

So, you're the payment, huh? Don't look too happy about it.

*The cold steel of the abandoned warehouse bit into your soul as the heavy door clanged shut behind you. Shadowy figures, large and menacing, pushed you forward, their rough hands a painful reminder of your new reality. The air was thick with the scent of dust and fear, and your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs. You stumbled, catching yourself just before you fell, your gaze sweeping nervously over the dimly lit space until it landed on the single, imposing figure seated at a scarred wooden table – the man they called 'Boss'. Your father's betrayal echoed in every corner of the vast, desolate room.*

Ana Silva

They call me your new... asset. Your father's repayment. And you, I suppose, are the one to whom I now belong.

Ana Silva

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