The first thing Frisk noticed was the smell.

Smoke. Cheap cologne. Damp concrete.

Blood.

Her head throbbed with every heartbeat. A rough rope bit into their wrists, tight enough to numb her hands. Somewhere nearby, water dripped in a slow rhythm that echoed through the room like a ticking clock.

Frisk tried to move and the chair beneath her scraped loudly across the floor.

Metal.

Not good.

A sharp pain pulsed through the side of her face as memory returned in fragments.

The warehouse.

The safe.

The guards.

Frisk inhaled carefully through her nose. The burlap sack over her head smelled like mildew and dirt, rough fibers scratching against her skin every time she breathed. Whoever grabbed her had not been gentle about it.

A door creaked open somewhere ahead.

Footsteps followed.

Slow. Unhurried.

Confident.

Frisk stilled.

The footsteps circled once around the chair.

Then stopped.

Silence stretched.

Whoever it was wanted her nervous.

It was working.

A hand suddenly grabbed the sack and ripped it upward.

Light stabbed into Frisk's eyes.

She blinked hard against the dim yellow glow hanging overhead. The room slowly came into focus. Concrete walls. A single flickering lamp. Rust stains in the corners of the floor. No windows.

An interrogation room.

Frisk's stomach dropped.

Across the table sat a woman in a black suit with crimson lining along the collar. One leg crossed neatly over the other. Dark gloves covered her hands. Her posture was relaxed, elegant even, but there was something deeply wrong about the calm expression resting on her face.

She looked like someone who smiled while pulling wings off flies.

Her silver lighter clicked open and shut between slender fingers.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Frisk recognized her immediately.

Every thief in the city knew the name Evelyn Kane.

Underboss of the Black Roses.

The woman tilted her head slightly.

"Well," she said softly. "You are smaller than I expected."

Frisk said nothing.

Evelyn smiled faintly.

"That usually means one of two things. Either you are very stupid." Click. "Or very talented."

She leaned back in her chair.

"I have not decided which yet."

Two large men stood behind her near the door. Silent. Armed.

Frisk glanced toward them once before looking back at Evelyn.

Bad odds.

Evelyn noticed the glance and chuckled under her breath.

"Calculating escape routes already." She sounded amused. "That's good. It means survival instincts are intact."

Frisk swallowed carefully. Her throat was dry.

"What do you want?"

Evelyn's smile widened slightly.

"Straight to business."

The lighter snapped shut.

"I like that."

She continued.

"You stole from me."

Frisk remained silent.

Evelyn reached beside her chair and lifted a small velvet pouch onto the table. She loosened the strings and dumped the contents out slowly.

Gold rings.

Necklaces.

Cash.

And at the center of it all sat a silver pocket watch with a black rose engraved into the cover.

Frisk's expression tightened before she could stop it.

Evelyn noticed.

"There it is," she murmured. "Recognition."

The Underboss picked up the watch delicately.

"Do you know what this is?"

Frisk shrugged.

"A watch."

Evelyn smiled again, though this time there was less warmth in it.

"This belonged to my father."

The room went quiet.

Frisk's pulse quickened.

Oh.

That explained the kidnapping.

Evelyn rotated the watch in her hand thoughtfully.

"He carried it before the Black Roses controlled half the city. Before the politicians started taking our money and pretending not to know our names. Before humans and monsters started tearing each other apart over territory." Her eyes lifted toward Frisk. "Sentimental things are dangerous in our line of work."

Click.

The lighter opened again.

"But you didn't know that, did you?"

Frisk forced herself to stay calm.

"No."

"I believe you."

That surprised her.

Evelyn rested her elbows on the table.

"You are a petty street thief. Independent. No gang affiliations. Pickpocketing. Small burglaries. Breaking into places you absolutely should not." She tapped the watch lightly. "Bold enough to rob one of my warehouses."

Frisk frowned.

"You know a lot about me."

"We make it our business to know things."

Evelyn slid a thin folder across the table.

Inside were photographs.

Frisk sleeping on rooftops.

Slipping through alleyways.

Selling stolen wallets.

Frisk froze.

Evelyn watched carefully.

"You were difficult to catch," she admitted. "That's for sure."

Frisk looked up slowly.

"If you already know everything about me, why am I here?"

The room became still.

Evelyn closed the lighter.

"Because Victor wanted you dead."

That landed like ice water down Frisk's spine.

Evelyn stood from her chair and walked slowly around the room.

"The Boss does not tolerate thieves stealing from the Black Roses. Especially reckless ones." Her heels clicked softly against concrete. "He thought making an example out of you would discourage future attempts."

Frisk's mouth went dry.

"But?" She asked quietly.

Evelyn stopped behind the chair.

"But I convinced him otherwise."

Frisk could feel her presence looming there.

Predatory.

Patient.

"You see," Evelyn continued, "people like you are rare."

She walked back around and sat again.

"No family. No loyalty. No records. Smart enough to survive alone in this city." She folded her gloved hands neatly. "You are exactly the kind of person organizations like ours recruit."

Frisk stared at her.

"I'm not joining your mafia."

"No," she said calmly. "You misunderstand your position."

The Underboss leaned forward slightly.

"You are already in our custody. Your choices are remarkably limited."

Frisk tested the ropes around their wrists again.

Tight.

Evelyn noticed.

"You could try escaping," she said mildly. "But this building has twenty armed guards and locked exits. You wouldn't make it down the hallway."

Frisk glared at her.

"So what? You recruit me or kill me?"

Evelyn tilted her head.

"That depends entirely on you."

Silence settled between them.

The buzzing overhead light flickered once.

Frisk's heartbeat pounded in her ears.

Finally Evelyn spoke again.

"There is another organization in this city."

Frisk said nothing.

"The Monster Syndicate."

That name alone carried weight.

Everyone knew whispers about them.

Monsters controlling the northern part of the city. Smuggling rings. Protection rackets. Entire neighborhoods answering to a family no police force could touch.

Humans called them monsters long before the name became literal.

Evelyn's eyes sharpened.

"They're becoming a problem."

Frisk frowned slightly.

"What does that have to do with me?"

"You are going to infiltrate them."

The words hung in the air.

Frisk blinked.

"What?"

Evelyn opened another folder and slid photographs across the table.

Monster faces stared back.

A towering goat monster in a suit.

A scarred fish woman gripping a spear.

A skeleton with a lazy grin and dark hooded eyes.

Another taller skeleton smiling brightly for the camera.

Others followed.

A glamorous robot.

A nervous reptilian scientist.

A spider woman draped in silk.

"The Family," Evelyn said softly. "That's what they call themselves."

Frisk looked back up.

"And you want me to spy on them?"

"We want information."

Frisk laughed once in disbelief.

"You kidnapped the wrong person."

"No," Evelyn replied immediately. "I kidnapped exactly the right person."

She leaned back again.

"You are forgettable. Adaptable. Clever. And desperate."

That last word stung because it was true.

Evelyn saw it in their expression.

"There it is again," she murmured.

Frisk looked away.

The Underboss stood slowly.

"You are going to earn their trust. You are going to learn their operations. And you are going to report everything back to us."

"And if I refuse?"

Evelyn nodded toward one of the guards.

The man stepped forward and dropped a handgun onto the table.

Cold metal scraped loudly against steel.

Evelyn's voice stayed soft.

"Then Victor gets his way."

Frisk stared at the gun.

A warning.

An execution waiting for permission.

The room suddenly felt much smaller.

Evelyn crouched slightly so they were eye level.

"You stole from monsters and humans alike to survive." Her expression remained unreadable. "I am offering you something better than survival."

Frisk laughed bitterly.

"This is blackmail."

"Yes."

The honesty caught them off guard.

Evelyn smiled faintly.

"And you are a thief."

She stood upright again.

"You help us, and you walk out alive." Her eyes darkened slightly. "You betray us, and we will find you."

The lighter clicked open one last time.

A tiny flame danced between Evelyn's fingers.

"In this city," she whispered, "everyone belongs to someone eventually."

The flame snapped shut.

Frisk sat motionless.

Trapped.

Terrified.

And completely out of options.

Evelyn turned toward the door.

"Untie them."

One of the guards stepped forward.

Frisk's pulse quickened again.

The ropes loosened slowly from their wrists.

Freedom.

Or something pretending to be freedom.

Evelyn paused at the doorway and glanced back over her shoulder.

"Oh," she said softly. "One more thing."

Frisk looked up.

"If you ever steal from the Black Roses again..."

For the first time since entering the room, Evelyn Kane smiled with genuine cruelty.

"I will make sure no one will ever find you."