Meanwhile, far from the bright world of luxury malls and innocent smiles, Leonardo was standing in the cold, dim basement of an abandoned warehouse.
His jaw was tight, his sharp gray eyes staring down coldly at the man tied to the chair before him. Blood dripped from the man's mouth, staining the concrete floor below. The air was thick with the smell of iron, sweat, and fear.
Leonardo, dressed in a dark dress shirt with rolled sleeves, black gloves covering his strong hands, looked like a devil carved straight out of shadow.
There were specks of blood on his sleeves, but he didn't seem to care.
In fact, he looked even more dangerous like this.
Cold. Silent. Deadly.
The man on the chair whimpered, trembling. "P-please, boss… it—it was a mistake… I didn't mean—"
Leonardo tilted his head slightly, his voice smooth and deadly quiet.
"A mistake?" he repeated, his lips curving into a sharp, humorless smile.
"You call selling confidential information to my rivals... a mistake?"
