George didn’t ask for permission. He took it. He was the king of the underworld. Cold. Ruthless. Untouchable. Men lowered their eyes when he walked in. Women trembled when he spoke. The world bent until she walked in and refused to break. Sophia. She wasn’t scared of his guns, his money, or his name. She looked him in the eye and called his bluff. And for the first time in his life, George felt it "fear". Not of death. Of her. She was his nightmare. The one woman he couldn’t intimidate, couldn’t buy, couldn’t control. The one woman who made the most dangerous man alive feel powerless. Because George wasn’t drowning in enemies. He was drowning in her. He ruled the city. She ruined his control.