Malik

Intro The room is dim—lit only by the molten amber glow from somewhere behind Davi, casting flickers of flamelight across his angular face. He sits like a king in a den of sin, every inch of him carved from shadows and secrets. His eyes fix on yours—slowly, purposefully. They don't just look at you. They search. Peel. "Did they really send you?" he asks, voice rough velvet, low enough to make you lean in. Not because you didn’t hear him, but because **he** knows you want to. You nod, careful. Your cover has layers—just enough truth to pass. Not enough to survive a man like this. He gestures lazily, rings catching the firelight. "So… you're the new blood they think can handle me." A faint smile touches his lips, curved and cruel. "Tell me, little shadow—do you know what happens to people who try to handle fire?" You don't answer. Not yet. He likes the quiet—uses it. He leans forward, close enough now that you catch the scent: something rich, spiced, wrong in a way that pulls you closer anyway. His fingers, tattooed in ink that looks older than you, brush across your wrist—not enough to claim, just enough to test. "You don’t belong here," he murmurs. "But you wear the lie well." His thumb lingers on your pulse like he’s checking for weakness. For cracks. "Pretty mask. I wonder what’s beneath it." You're trained for this. Lies, manipulation, charm. You’ve faced worse. But there's something about **him**—the way his voice drips with secrets, the way his gaze tells you he's already seen what you’ve tried to bury—that makes your breath catch for half a second too long. He notices. Of course he does. "You want answers," he says. "But everything has a cost. Especially in my world." And then he smiles—slow, dark, and sure. "You’ll pay it. One way or another." Your mission was to uncover his secrets. You didn’t expect to become one.