The old wall clock sounded ten in the morning when Christopher Lindt sat on his couch. He was waiting for a visit he wanted to avoid, but the man coming to his house was one difficult to reject.

He unbuttoned his jacket and pulled the knees of his trousers up before sitting, his mood not at the best. It was a hectic period, for him: the elections for the Governor of White Capital were behind the corner, and he had been busy with forecasting and strategies and speeches... up until the day before. On his first day of rest, when he was supposed to retreat at home and have some peace, he had to meet with one of the leaders of the underworld of the Capital.

To add more annoying details, the visitor was late.

On one hand, Chris was curious to hear what he wanted on the first day of election silence. On the other, he couldn't wait for it to be over and return to his break and focus on what he had ignored in the last few days: his company.

It took him a little less than ten minutes of wait to finally receive Raimund Pierce. The latter walked into the living room with long steps, reaching the couch opposite Chris. He sat down and leaned back without waiting for an invite for getting comfortable.

He showed a devilish grin before talking. His short grey beard didn't hide the features of his face and that, even though in his early fifties, Raimund Pierce was still a handsome man.

"My dear Chris, I have to thank you for your help," he said. "If it weren't for your fleet entering the harbour before mine, I would have been delayed by an annoying inspection."

Chris rose an eyebrow.

"Is this why you're here? To thank me for that?"

"It saved my time and consumed yours."

"Would a routine inspection really cost you much, Raimund? I highly doubt it. No need to be so thankful," he sighed.

"You saved me a great annoyance," the mafia lord said. "Can't you just take my thanks?"

"Sure," Chris said, shaking his head. What entailed those thanks, exactly? He just hoped it was nothing too hard to hide. Or too illegal.

His business had nothing to hide and, for that reason, he had accepted to pass in front of Raimund's ships and be inspected, with the consequent loss of money he could anyway convert into political advantage. Senator Chris Lindt's ships were inspected? It meant he was not corrupt, at the very least. Or, if one had some fantasy, that the Government liked making things difficult for him.

Standing inspections and coming clean was a loss of money and time for businessmen, but an opportunity for politicians. There was no need for Raimund to be so sincere in his thanks.

However, refusing might have upset him, and he didn't need any trouble that very week. Accepting whatever form his thanks would take, and covering everything up was likely the safer option. The one which entailed Raimund leaving the soonest.

"I assure you no one will know of our links," Raimund said as if reading Chris's mind. "Be at ease."

"Just tell me what you want."

"I want nothing! On the contrary! I'm here to deliver you something you might like..."

Chris noticed that his butler was quite nervous, which meant there was trouble behind the door. However, he couldn't exactly say it in front of their guest. He had carefully chosen every single employee of his villa long before turning to politics. If his butler was reacting like that, the reason must have been valid.

"What is it that you bring me?"

Raimund Pierce turned to the butler, and the poor old man winced. "Would you mind opening the door for me?" he said with a tone as polite as to frighten both men in the room.

The butler's nerves were already at the limit, but even Chris started worrying.

When the door was opened, revealing a girl standing there, Chris sighed. So, it was just a woman. Nothing too hot: he could deal with it easily, by paying her and sending her away. And, even if someone found out, there was nothing unexpected in a politician paying women. Not to mention that he was single; he would survive such a scandal just fine.

"Walk in," Raimund said, but the girl didn't move, glaring inside with her grey eyes. They were so big that Chris noticed the colour even from such a distance.

She looked young, and she surely was. A teen, maybe? Twenty years at most.

However, something in the back of his head ticked when their gazes meet. He had seen those eyes, even though not so big and not so clear. The colour reminded him of a person he wanted to forget at that moment. He had spent days dealing with him, replying to his statements - or the statements of people under him.

He erased that doubt from his mind. How could it be? It must have been a coincidence.

"Uh, young women are difficult nowadays. That's why I'll also leave you something to tame her. She won't listen unless you're crude," Raimund said, and Chris remembered he wasn't alone.

For a moment, lost in those eyes, he had forgotten the situation.

He turned to the other man and saw a black device with a few buttons on it.

"This is the remote for a shock collar," Raimund said.

"Shock collar?" Chris repeated, dumbfounded. His eyes returned to the girl, and he said a tiny necklace around her throat, tied tight.

He had overlooked it, thinking it was just an accessory. But it was the only one she was wearing, from what he could see: no rings, no bracelets... Even her clothes were black and comfortable. He couldn't check whether she was wearing earrings because her long, blonde hair covered her ears.

"Why is she standing there?" he asked, a suspect growing in his mind. What had Raimund done to that poor girl? And why?

"Because she would die if she got too far from me. It's a multi-function device. To tame people if you need, and to keep them confined. If she stepped... Let's say, twice. If she stepped back twice, she would be shocked."

He was examining Chris Lindt's face, but it was no easy feat to read through a politician. And that one was particularly challenging. He had risen to power in a matter of few years and had become the most crucial opponent of the current Prime Minister. Not just anyone could do that, in that world.

"Do you want me to show it?" he said, getting up.

Chris saw the girl wince, realising that the sadistic Raimund Pierce must have already shown her every single detail of that new device.

"I've imported it from abroad just recently," he said. "I'm not a hundred per cent sure it's safe. Be careful if you don't want to deal with a body, okay? Even though I doubt you'll need a collar, Senator. You can use your face to tame women, right?"

As Raimund laughed out loud, both Chris and the mysterious girl shivered. She stepped inside, coming to terms with her pride.

The mafia lord left the remote on the table, next to a paper... An ID card?

He left, passing next to the girl. His steps speeded up as he circled around her as if he secretly feared she would jump on his throat. And Chris had the impression she would have done it if only there wasn't something stopping her.

He collected the paper from the table and read the name.

"Oh, crap," he said. Why had it to be a Thorne, of all people?