The gala was a necessary evil. Nalik Verlice had never cared to be in the spotlight, it was just an unfortunate consequence of his place in the world - at the top. Whenever he did attend, everyone knew what they were getting. The permanent scowl didn't lighten under party lights and he didn't suddenly become personal with a little booze. Nalik was just as cold and standoffish as he always was. By the time the night came to an end, he was the first out the door, sliding into the back seat of his waiting car. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he squeezed his eyes shut, blowing out an exasperated breath as his driver weaved them in and out of traffic. Pulling at his tie, he loosed it before undoing the top button of his dress shirt, releasing some of the rigidity that was ever present.

Returning home brought a sense of peace to the tycoon. Home was his sanctuary, a place away from prying eyes and those seeking to get as much as they could from him. Climbing the steps to his bedroom, he worked the buttons of his tux and shirt, pulling the soft, ivory material from his waistband until it hung open in the front and loose around his hips. Any hopes of taking a hot shower were dashed the moment he stepped into his bedroom. Even in the dark, he knew he wasn't alone. The faintest of perfumes hung stagnant in the air and if he listened hard enough, he could hear the harsh rasp of a nervous breath. Green eyes immediately hardened, his temper unfurling its vicious wings. He reached first for a handgun that was tucked conveniently behind a piece of furniture. Clearing his room silently, Nalik stepped into the small sitting room and immediately zeroed in on the dark figure hunched over his safe.

His very obscure safe.

So few new of its location that he immediately knew someone close to him had betrayed him. A tic in his jaw was accompanied by the soft flick of him switching the safety off. Leveling the glock at the intruder, he fingered the trigger - there'd be less questions if he shot them in the chest versus the back. "Your family will pay for your mistakes here tonight." The low rasp of his voice seemed loud in the tense silence. His threat is loud and clear. Unafraid, Nalik steps closer, because in this proverbial den, he is the lion. Most of the time, his reputation precedes him, which was largely why few were so bold as to cross him. Though a small part of him is impressed, breaking into his fortress was no simple feat - something he would keep to himself.

Emerald eyes watched for the slightest twitch of movement, preparing for a fight. The intruder wasn't a large man by any means, even hunched over in an attempt to crack his safe. Dark clothes hugged a lithe physique and he questioned whether this person was a man at all. "Get up." There was no denying the command in his voice, the gravelly tone that expected compliance, because who dared to defy him?

This intruder is not the first to attempt to steal from him. And Nalik isn’t naive enough to believe it’ll be the last. They are, however, the first to be ballsy enough to enter his home in quite some time. He had made a brutal example of the last thief that entered his home uninvited and whispers had spread through the city. Clearly it was time for another message, another example. Strong jaws clenched against the deep sigh that wanted to express his annoyance. Nalik didn’t crave violence, he didn’t actively seek it, at least not your typical violence. He didn’t enjoy a good fist fight, he was long past his years of brawling to blow off steam or exert his power. Nowadays, Nalik leveled his enemies in boardrooms and if that didn’t work, he had a secondary room for them. One that resided in the belly of the basement of this mansion. One that allowed him to be as meticulous as he liked. Visiting that very room tonight had not been on his agenda. He’d been looking forward to climbing into bed after a night of unwanted socializing. Not spending hours in his basement. He had shit to do tomorrow.

The intruder stood, slowly, with their hands up in surrender. What he didn’t expected was to be looking at a woman. If he was capable of giving credit where it’s due, he might have thought that was the reason to managed to sneak her way in here. Nalik meets her unwavering stare with the same stubbornness. She breaks eye contact first, her eyes traveling down his exposed front, pausing for only a fraction of a moment like he wasn’t entirely what she expected. Well on his way to fifty, Nalik doesn’t look as old as he is. Call it good breeding or a lifetime spent diligently taking care of himself, the results were the same. Nalik is fit, his body well toned, each ridge of muscle promising more than just looks. Continuing her perusal all the way down to his shoes, she meets his stare again, this time with an arched brow.

With his gun still pointed at her chest, she doesn’t cower. She remains entirely silent and if he were to judge the set of her jaw, he doesn’t believe that she’ll be compliant for long. It’s his turn. Emerald eyes leave her shadowy face, scanning her from head to toe. Even in the dark, she was attractive. Weren’t they always? Her clothes were dark, likely cheap - obviously she needed the money if she was here. The material hugged her enough so as not to snag when she made her escape but not nicely enough to be made just for her. ”Who sent you?” He didn’t expect the truth. Just like he was waiting for her to make her move. All in good time though, she’d give him the answers he wanted, whether she wanted to give them up or not. Nalik made no effort to get closer, he’d rather her strike first, to reveal whatever weapon he is certain she’s carrying. Most would find this whole scenario alarming but Naliks heart beat just as steadily as it always did against his ribs. His chest rose and fell with even breaths, like this was just another day for him.


Her answer is a smart ass one. While her tone is dry, she still jabs at him. Her unwillingness to share the name of her employer would soon dissolve though. She wasn’t leaving here tonight without answering his questions. Not that she’d be leaving at all. Surely she knows that? Still, she doesn’t falter, that defiance doesn’t leave her stare. Self preservation is bright and alive in her fiery stare, it tells him that she’ll do anything to get out of here alive. She’s not going downstairs without a fight.

Despite his earlier irritation, there’s a twisted excitement in this prospect. Again, his stare dips down her body, but this time he is looking for something. The slight bulge of a holster. The length of a barrel. The ridge of a blade. If she is willing to stand her ground, then she has to be armed. It would have been foolish on her end to come here unarmed, no matter how good she thinks her hand to hand combat is. She is still a woman.

”Knife or gun?”



Theres faint amusement in the question. Does she think herself faster than him? Pulling a gun now would result in her untimely death, and a mess on his bedroom floor that he didn’t want to deal with right now. A blade would ensure close quarters, something she shouldn’t desire with a larger opponent. Unless she is so overconfident in her abilities.


Stepping closer, its his every intention to force her to show her hand. He intends to play on her self perseverance by forcing her to act. Nalik’s emerald stare is sharp and cunning, a merciless gleam lurking in the shadows. He is every bit of his reputation. No one survives being the focal point of Nalik Verlices bad side. Tomorrow, she’d be nothing more than a Jane Doe in the wind. A shame he thought, briefly. It’s her mistake really, agreeing to this contract, agreeing to come and steal from him.

Nalik doesn't honestly expect an answer to any of his questions. He's taking the time to study her. Watching the way she remains still, too still - she's uncomfortable. As she should be. She is caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. The noose around her neck tightens with each passing second. Her brow quirks, hinting at her attitude, her inability to yield to anyone but herself. He bet she'd break so pretty.

When he moves closer, her nostrils flare subtly. She doesn't like his proximity. Well she'd be better get used to it. He plans on being a lot closer. When she finally does move, his eyes narrow marginally. Each movement she makes as she lowers into a crouch, her hand slowly moving to her boot. She reveals a blade. An offering as she hands it to him, hilt first. For a moment, he simply stares. His distrust is immediate, but he doesn't give her even a hint of his suspicion. Thats not her only weapon. He's certain of it. A slow step brings him closer, his peripherals focusing on her free hand. This gift she is offering, it isn't free. Experience, years of it, tells him she's looking for an opportunity. A chance to gain the upper hand and make her great escape.

Too bad he has no intention of letting her do any such thing. His gun lowers as he crouches down in front of her, mimicking her pose. With his gun pointed at the floor between his parted thighs, he continues to watch. Finding what he is looking for, he reaches for her weapon.

Everything he does, he does with a vicious speed and merciless precision. Rather than grab just the hilt, his palms wraps entirely around her own, pinning the blade between their palms. Immediately he bends her wrist up towards him, giving a slight jerk forward, just enough to knock her off balance. He means for the action to force the point of her own knife into the softness of her forearm. Simultaneously, his other hand, still gripping his gun, flies up, intending to chin check the fuck out of her. All the while, his expression does not change. Nalik is just as chillingly detached as ever.

She’s faster than he gave her credit for. Smarter too. She drops the knife before he can grab it or her. It’s a decoy. It’s not her only weapon if she’s so willing to abandon it. He pieces it together with a lethal efficiency, learning more and more about her with each passing moment. The blade clatters to the floor. They both ignore it, leaving it abandoned on his bedroom floor. This isn’t her first job and it definitely isn’t the first time she’s been caught. She came here prepared for the worst. He almost cracked a smirk, the corner of his mouth very nearly lifted. Whoever had hired her, spared no expense, they wanted her success. It made him curious about her. Who was she? Why hadn’t he heard of her? Her skill set could be valuable.

For a brief moment, he considered keeping her. A pet. One with the propensity to bite. But one that could play. Willingly or not.

When he jerked her forward, she embraced it, shoving off and into him. She came in with a fury, her desperation for survival making her brazen. He sees her coil back before slamming her head forward, boldly attempting to headbutt him Tucking his chin, she lands her forehead against the upper portion of his forehead. It still hurts like a motherfucker. Bone on bone crack together and promises him a headache later. A moment later though, satisfaction. His knuckles connect with her mouth, no doubt rattling her teeth. In the stillness of the room, her gasp is deafening. A pretty sound.

With her left hand still wrapped in his left hand, he doesn’t release her. Like a tether, his grip on her keeps her close. He can manipulate her better. Her right hand though, reveals the blade she had been hiding as she attempts to plunge it into his left shoulder. Without hesitation, he pulled on her left arm. Hard. Nalik has every intention of jerking her off balance and if he’s lucky, off her feet. He does this as she aims to sink her blade into his shoulder, the moment offers enough space that she doesn’t plunge her knife into him but rather it slices across his skin. A surface wound. But bleeds nonetheless and it stains his dress shirt, the material already ruined. His teeth grind as his temper explodes.

This intruder is not the first woman to find herself on the receiving end of his fist. And she’s not likely to be the last. Gun still in his hand, he recoils his right hand before he attempts to land a heavy punch across her delicate jaw. He doesn’t hit her harder because she’s a woman but he also doesn’t hold back because she’s a woman. She’s an intruder in his home and she’ll pay the consequences, regardless of her gender. Fighting back was useless, one shot from his gun would have security flooding his room. She was trapped. Still, the sickest parts of him loved her desperation, craved the fight she put up. Too bad she was a thief.

His fist finds its target, landing squarely across her jaw with enough force that he can hear her teeth click together. It’s like music to his ears. A moment later, she crumbles at his feet. Her knife clatters to the floor behind him. Unconscious, Nalik is mechanical in the way he pats her down, stripping her of any remaining weapons before he’s pulling his belt off. The smooth leather is wrapped around her wrists, behind her back, and he pulls it tight - not caring if the leather bites into her skin. Standing, he scoops up her knives before he disappears into his bedroom for a brief moment. Nalik returns with a tie in hand, which he wraps around her ankles before tying her ankles to her wrists. Once she’s hogtied and secured, he blows out a breath and shrugs out of his torn and bloodied shirt.

Flipping on a light, he doesn’t waste time looking at the cut she gave him. There’d be time for that later. Grabbing the knot that joins her wrists and ankles, he unceremoniously drags her from his bedroom. Emerald eyes don’t stray to see if she regains consciousness, just as he doesn’t even consider the pressure she’d feel in her shoulders or the way her muscles would stretch and strain against her own body weight. It’s hardly the worst thing she’d endure.

Tired and agitated, Nalik is silent as he half carries, half drags his newest toy down flights of stairs to the belly of his fortress. Only once does he pull his phone from his pocket, tapping the screen as he sends off a quick text.

They arrive at a steel door and when he swings it open, cold air rushes out. Inside, he flips a switch and bright white lights come to life, illuminating a sterile room. The walls are white and the floor is concrete with a drain in the center. There’s no windows, though they are far enough below ground that there’s no point. It smells clean inside. One wall is lined with a counter, complete with cupboards above and below, the rest are bare. A pair of metal chairs sit off to one side and only one with complete with cuffs for wrists and ankles. Dangling from the ceiling in the center of the room is a series of chains on a pulley system.

With little delicacy, he drops her in the center of the room near the chains before he heads to cabinets, open a drawer for something she wouldn’t be able to see before he tucked it into his pockets. Hand cuffs. Nothing too exciting. Nalik didn’t bother with a show tonight of unveiling what resides within his cabinets, that would be saved for later. For now, he just wanted her secured, contained so that she couldn’t cause anymore problems for him. Turning back to her, he toyed with her blade, spinning it between his fingers before he approached her, his stride unhurried.

She’s awake. Her pupils are blown wide, awake natural response to the situation she has found herself in. He watches as her eyes dart around the room, taking inventory of everything she can see. From the way she tests her restraints, to realization settling on her bruised features. She knows. Her nostrils flare and her sides heave with rapid breaths, though she makes no other sound. Even as her glare finally lands on him, she still doesn’t falter.

Squatting down beside her, Nalik is just as silent. He positions himself at her side so that he can easily untie her feet from her hands, though he keeps them bound together - he anticipates another fight. It’s both thrilling and annoying. All he wanted to do tonight was going to bed. Deft fingers make quick work of her binds. The unmistakable sound of a cuff tightening around her wrist is deafening in the room and it echoes around them.

Smartly, he cuffs one wrist and leaves his belt looped around the other, giving him control of both her hands. He isn’t take any chances with her, even if she is unarmed.



There is no request, no demand for her to sit up, he simply hauls her up so that she sits back on her feet before he jerks both hands in front of her. Nalik is acutely aware of her - of every twitch, every breath. He doesn’t trust her with a single fiber of his being. Which is a shame, because when his eyes find her face in the bright light of his playroom, she’s stunning. Her hair is a bold shade of red, as fiery as her will to live. Her eyes are no different - an unnatural shade of orange, an anomaly in her genes. Full lips are stained crimson, bloodied and split; a partner to the bruise that swells along her jaw and forehead.



Gripping both her hands in one of his, he moves to lock the other cuff around her wrist.

To say she is uncooperative is an understatement. While she doesn’t actively fight him, she certainly doesn’t help. The sudden movement upright made her dizzy, he saw it in the way her eyes went unfocused for a moment, when her glare briefly disappeared. Forced to hold her weight to keep her upright, his grip is tight around her wrists when combined with the fact that she’s also locked every joint in her body to resist. To be expected - who in their right mind would be compliant when their life is on the line? It still annoys him. And he still doesn’t clue her into his annoyance. So he squeezes each cuff tighter around her wrist, until the cold metal bites into her skin. Only when her hands are securely cuffed in front of her, does he pull the belt from her wrist, the supple leather dragging across her skin.

Then he snapping a clip on the end of a chain to the middle of the cuffs. The start of her unpleasant night would start now. He stood and jerked the opposite end of the chain, hauling her to her feet by her wrists. It doesn’t even so much as cross his mind to untie her ankles, to make it easier for her to stand. No. He lets sway, her body weight forcing the edge of the cuffs into her skin, until he picks her up high enough that she can find her feet. Only he hauls her higher still, until she’s on her tip toes.

A few clips and locks would secure the chain in place, well outside of her reach.

Her knife reappears in his hand as he stepps towards her, grabbing the collar of her top. In one swift movement, he slices down the front, cutting her shirt open. He repeats the process with each sleeve until the material falls to the floor at her feet. Next, the blade slides into her waistband, pressing against her skin so it cut barely didn’t cut her. One side and then the other. He’s methodical. Mechanical. Emerald eyes are assessing, scrutinizing, as if he’s looking for something. Her bra and panties are treated similar. Nalik inspects every inch of her for any sort of wire or tracking device that could lead someone to her. Only when he’s satisfied does he step away, wordless as ever. Scooping up her clothes, he walks to one of the seemingly empty walls, but a quick touch reveals a small incinerator - burning up every trace of her clothes. Not sign of her would be left behind.

Turning back to her, he doesn’t ogle her as he approaches. ”Water?” He asks. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that they’d be here awhile. If she had any plans to survive, how naive they were, then she’d need every bit of strength she could manage. Staying hydrated would be key.

Again his mouth twitches with the urge to smirk at her. She refuses his offer. Her scoff is a soft sound that seems loud in the near empty room. Her eyes roll to the ceiling as if it’s the most absurd thing that’s happened to her this evening. Wordlessly, he walks to yet another cabinet and opens it to reveal a small stash of water bottles. Walking back to her, he opens it, letting the plastic crinkle as its seal is broken. No tricks. Not yet at least. Their game wouldn’t begin just yet. To prove his point, he lifts the bottle to his lips and takes two long pulls from it, the water washing over his tongue and down his throat. Offering her one last chance, he tips the water bottle towards her, a dark brow arching.

It’s a small mercy, one of the few he’s willing to give her. But in truth, while her timing was piss poor, he was barely hanging onto the sick thrill of getting to play with her. She holds her composure so well, she’d be breathtaking when she finally broke. Even when he had stripped her of her clothing, she hadn’t made a sound. The rapid sounds of her panicked breathing still echoed gently in the back of his mind. He was impatient to hear it again.

Interruption came in the form of the door opening. Initially, Nalik ignored the man who entered, the door clicking shut quietly behind him. No words were exchanged, Nalik didn’t even acknowledge his presence. It wasn’t the first time his head of security had been down here and it definitely wasn’t the first time he’d seen someone strung up before. One look in her direction is all the man affords before his stare grows distance as he focuses on the nothing in front of him. Like a statue, he stands against the wall beside the door.

Not known for his patience, he offers her mere seconds to decide - to take his offering or refuse again. In the end, he didn’t care what she chose, it made little difference to him. “Do you know who she is?” He speaks without preamble, his eyes focused on the thief while he addresses his head of security. ”No sir.” Nalik hums low in his throat. “Neither do I.” He drawls. “Yet I found her snooping through my bedroom.” With each word, his tone grows colder, meaner. The other man visibly pales. Lips part to speak, but Nalik cut him off. “Didn’t I hire you to prevent such a thing?” Not once does his voice rise, remaining home chillingly even. ”It won’t happen again.” “No, it won’t.” He assures the man before lifting the thief’s knife and throwing it at the man. The thin piece of metal rolls through the air before it embeds itself in the man’s throat. Blood sprays and he sputters, gripping the knife before foolishly pulling it free. Blood flows too fast, his carotid sliced open and soon he crumbles in the floor, blood spreading in a pool under him.

You hiring? Her cavalier question has his emerald stare returning to her, the faintest of smirks lifting one corner of his mouth. A joke, at a time like this? Surely she doesn’t honestly expected him to hire her. Even if her ability to sneak past his own highly trained security is impressive. She was caught with her hands in the proverbial cookie jar - there’d be no trust ever again. Nalik isn’t a man who offers seconds chances. {{“Let’s see what your made of first.”}} The statement is ominous, softened only by the faint flicker of amusement in his eyes.

Whatever her true feelings are regarding the dead man, she doesn’t show them. Even under the weight of the knowledge that her presence here was the cause of his demise. Her emotions are wrapped up tight, suggesting she’s endured formal training. The average person wouldn’t be so nonchalant after being strung up, stripped naked and watching a man be murdered. She’d break eventually. He is confident.

Scooping up his belt, he takes it with him, along with the water. Without another word, he walks away from her, heading to the steel door. Only once does he look at the dead guard. {{“Now you’ve got some company.”}} He doesn’t bother removing the knife from the man’s neck. Instead, he leaves it there, to taunt silently the rest of the night. Opening the door, he disappears without another word nor a glance back. The clicking of a lock sliding into place is audible. The lights don’t shut off, quite the opposite, they seem to brighten further. Alone in the hall, he rolls his shoulders, his lip curling slightly as his wounded shoulders objects to the movement. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he opens an app custom made for him. He cranks the air down in the room to a brisk 50 degrees before toggling to a new feature. One he hasn’t yet gotten to play with.

The room is sealed air tight, allowing him to control the oxygen levels inside now. So he turns that down as well. It’s not dangerously low, but enough that she’d feel the burn in her lungs until he returned. She would spend the rest of the night struggling to catch her breath, unable to properly rest. All while he slept soundly upstairs. After a few housekeeping chores - disposing of his shirt, tucking away her weapons for safe keeping, patching up his shoulder. It’s nearly dawn by the time Nalik crawls into bed and falls asleep.

Exit ?