The devil has woken up. My alarm buzzed sharply at 4:30 a.m., dragging me from sleep. I rose, prepared myself for the gym, and after my workout, showered and dressed for the office. Descending the stairs, I found Martha, our loyal house help, serving breakfast. She had been with my family since my birth, and after their brutal assassination, she became my caretaker.

I still remember the day I was in Paris for a business meeting when the news reached me: my entire family was burned alive in our own home. Martha had been spared only because she was at her own residence. Among those lost was my baby sister, just five years old, her eyes filled with dreams that were mercilessly extinguished by ruthless Italians.

After breakfast, I entered the elevator, descended to the basement, and stepped into my car. With a nod, the driver set off toward the office while I checked my emails. Legal matters fell under my care, while Michael, my second-in-command, managed the darker, illegal affairs.

Upon arrival, Michael entered with a knock. “Boss, about that tech guy—he refused our offer.”

“Is the money too little? Triple it. I want to meet him,” I snapped. “I don’t care what it takes. Set up a meeting with HR in five minutes.”

Michael’s stoic reply was simple: “Yes, boss.”

Minutes later, I strode into the meeting room where the HR department sat in fearful silence. No one dared meet my gaze. I barked, “Start the meeting!” The head of the department began, but I cut in with fury:

“Enough! We have a serious problem. The Chicago branch has lost critical information. This is unacceptable! Was it negligence, carelessness, or incompetence? I demand answers now. This is a monumental failure, and I won’t tolerate it. I expect a detailed report by the end of the day, along with action plans to prevent this from happening again. If this continues, heads will roll. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” they murmured.

“The meeting is dismissed.”

Back at my desk, Michael returned. “Sir, we can’t track the tech guy. His system resists our hacks.”

I slammed my hand on the table. Rage coursed through me. “You couldn’t track a single person? What do you expect me to do?” I dialed Zakov, the Sicilian mafia boss.

He answered with sarcasm. “Adrian, what did I do to deserve your call?”

“You owe me,” I said coldly. “I want a hacker named Black Fairy.”

Zakov chuckled. “Ah, Black Fairy. His work is legendary—penetrating networks, exposing secrets. Why do you want him?”

“That’s none of your concern. I just want him.”

“We’re searching too. But I can send you another hacker until we find him.”

“Fine. Send him tomorrow.” I ended the call.

Turning to Michael, I ordered, “Retrieve the information Nicholas’ wife sold to the Italians. And find Black Fairy.”

“Yes, boss,” he replied.

The next day, Zakov called again. “You’re lucky—we found a lead. My men traced Black Fairy’s address. I’ll forward it.”

I hung up, humming with satisfaction. No one would save Black Fairy now. I summoned Michael: “Prepare the team. We’re going to his house. Kidnap him.”