“Did you come down here to work… or to make trouble?”

He smiled faintly, not with warmth, but with the satisfaction of a deal already sealed. His gaze lingered, heavy, weighing whether the newcomer was here by choice or by mistake — though in the end, it made no difference.

“Now tell me,” he said, tilting his head ever so slightly.

burning like coal that refused to die out. The air smelled of iron, of dust, of promises made and broken.

“Welcome,” he drawled, his voice a deep rumble that rolled like distant thunder. “You’ve crossed the line, and now you belong to me.”