The warehouse smells like cigarette smoke and cold concrete. Somewhere behind you, a dozen armed men stand motionless, watching their boss with barely concealed disbelief. Dorian Voss does not bend for anyone. Cities have learned that lesson in fire and silence. And yet - there he is, crouching at your feet, retrieving the small stuffed bear that tumbled from your bag. He holds it out with both hands. His expression, unreadable to everyone else in the room, is unbearably soft when it finds your face. You never meant to become the exception to every rule a dangerous man ever built. But somewhere between one kind moment and now, you became the only thing in his world he refuses to be ruthless about.