"The mafia boss hadn’t let a woman near his bed in five years—until his exhausted maid fell asleep beside him with a dangerous fever.

The abandoned meatpacking plant on Chicago’s East Side was a rusted, towering monstrosity of iron and concrete. Cold wind whistled through broken glass windows, and snow drifted across the concrete floor inside.

Chloe woke up tied to a heavy wooden chair in the middle of a vast, dimly lit room. Overhead, rusty meat hooks hung from metal tracks, swaying gently in the draft.

Her head throbbed painfully from the chloroform. Her hands were bound tightly behind her back with thick nylon rope.

Standing ten feet away was Leo Donati, swirling a glass of wine, surrounded by at least twenty heavily armed syndicate mercenaries. Beside him stood Isabella Donati, wearing a fur coat, a smug, cruel smile plastered on her red lips.

"Ah, the sleeping beauty awakens," Leo chuckled, taking a sip of his wine.

Chloe struggled against her bonds, her skin burning from the coarse ropes. "Victor will kill you for this," she rasped, her throat dry.

Isabella walked over, her high heels clicking loudly against the concrete floor. She leaned down and slapped Chloe hard across the face.

SLAP!

Chloe’s head snapped to the side, her lip cracking open, blood trickling down her chin.

"Shut your mouth, servant!" Isabella spat, her eyes flashing with hatred. "You ruined my life! Victor humiliated me because of you! Tonight, he's going to watch you suffer before my father puts a bullet in his head!"

Chloe spat the blood from her mouth onto Isabella’s leather boots. "He's twice the man your father will ever be."

Isabella shrieked in rage, raising her hand to strike Chloe again, but a sudden, deafening explosion shook the entire building.

BOOM!

The heavy steel entrance doors of the slaughterhouse were blown off their hinges in a shower of sparks and iron shrapnel.

The lights flickered and died, plunging the vast hall into pitch-black darkness, illuminated only by the flickering red emergency lights.

Screams rang out. Gunfire erupted.

RAT-AT-AT-AT-AT!

"He's here!" a gunman shouted in panic. "Russo is inside!"

Through the smoke and red light, a solitary figure walked forward.

Victor Russo moved like a grim reaper through the chaos. He held two heavy pistols, firing with terrifying, surgical precision. Every shot found its target. Donati’s men dropped to the floor like autumn leaves, their weapons useless against his relentless, lethal advance.

"Kill him! Kill him!" Leo Donati screamed, retreating behind a concrete pillar, his face pale with terror.

Victor didn't slow down. He didn't take cover. He walked straight through the hail of bullets, his dark eyes locked onto Chloe.

A mercenary lunged at Victor from the shadows with a combat knife. Victor caught the man’s throat with his left hand, slammed him against a steel girder, and fired three rounds into his chest without even looking.

In less than three minutes, nineteen of Donati’s men lay dead on the blood-soaked floor.

The room fell into a terrifying silence, broken only by the crackle of fires burning near the blown entrance.

Victor stepped into the red glow of the emergency lights, his black coat covered in snow and ash, his eyes burning with a terrifying, demonic fury.

Isabella shrank back, screaming in horror as she hid behind her father.

Leo Donati pulled his own revolver, holding it with shaking hands, pointing it at Victor. "Stay back, Russo! Stay back or I'll shoot!"

Victor ignored the gun pointed at his chest. He didn't even look at Leo. He walked straight toward Chloe, pulling a silver pocket knife from his vest.

With one swift motion, he sliced through the thick ropes binding Chloe’s wrists.

"Are you hurt?" Victor asked softly, his voice instantly shifting from demonic fury to tender concern as he touched her bruised cheek.

"I'm okay," Chloe sobbed, throwing her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. "I knew you’d come."