Deep in the shadowed heart of Arkham City, the Emerald Syndicate reigned supreme. They were the undisputed kings of the underworld in this gritty port town. Their fingers were in every dirty pie: guns, drugs, anything that thrived in the dark. Their strip clubs, underground casinos, and high-end hotels choked the city like poisonous vines.
"I'm not going, Anthony. Not this time. No way." Sophia Rizzo yanked on the sleeve of the man beside her, his tailored black suit screaming expensive. Her voice dripped with spoiled defiance. Ebony hair cascaded down the back of her ivory silk dress, framing a face sculpted for perfection, now twisted in stubborn refusal. Her full lips were set in a determined pout.
"Sophia, knock it off." Anthony Rizzo, the current Godfather of the Emerald Syndicate, could face down bullets without flinching. But his baby sister? That was his one weakness. He tried to muster his big-brother glare, but the ice usually in his dark eyes was nowhere to be found. Only pure, exasperated affection remained. "I said no! I hate those damn MMA classes! Every time, that brute of an instructor tosses me around like a damn ragdoll! I'm a lady, Anthony! When was the last time you saw a lady throwing suplexes on Fifth Avenue?" Sophia had tried ditching these lessons a hundred times before. The answer was always the same: non-negotiable. She wrenched her hand free, spinning away from him, shoulders slumped in defeat. "Figures," she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear. "Mom and Dad gone, and now you don't care. You just get your kicks seeing me bruised and battered, huh?"
"Sophia," Anthony rubbed his temples, a throbbing headache starting behind his eyes. He kept his voice patient. "Remember that van? The one with no plates? In the school parking lot? How close that was?" He'd built an invisible fortress around Sophia, shielding her from the Syndicate's bloody wars. The outside world barely knew she existed. But walls had cracks. Teaching her to fight? That was her last line of defense, the only safety net he truly trusted.
"You're the worst!" Sophia whirled back, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She jabbed a slender finger hard into his rock-solid shoulder. "I hate you! I'm moving into the dorms! Tonight! And I'm never coming back! You can rot in this stinking city! Starve! Let the cockroaches take over your stupid penthouse!"
"Sophia." Anthony's expression hardened, his voice dropping to a low, serious rumble. "If… if something does happen to me… You get out of Arkham. Fast. Go straight to Zurich. Everything's set. Find Hans Weber." He locked eyes with her, the weight of his world pressing down. "Remember. Only Hans. Trust no one else." The Emerald Syndicate had ruled for decades. But empires fall. The new players, the Ravens, circled Arkham like vultures scenting weakness. As the Rizzo heir, Anthony dreamed of cashing out, buying his sister a future far from the sound of gunfire. A quiet life.
"Anthony! Don't you say that!" Sophia's arms flew around his waist, burying her face in the fine wool of his suit jacket. Her voice was muffled. "Fine! Okay! I'll go! But you promise me! You stay safe! Or your baby sister's gonna get chewed up and spit out by some two-bit street thug!"
"Marcus. Take Miss Rizzo to the compound." Anthony held her tight for a brief, fierce moment, then the mask of the Don slid back into place, his voice sharp and commanding. In the whole Syndicate, Marcus Rossi was the one Anthony trusted with Sophia. The man's obvious devotion was Sophia's shield. Marcus would take a bullet for her without blinking.
The Emerald Syndicate's private training compound lurked on the outskirts of Arkham, a fortress of sweat and violence. "Ow. God, that hurts. Bet Anthony's never been used as a human punching bag." Sophia slipped away from the oppressive gym, finding shadow beneath the scraggly trees behind the main building. She winced, rubbing her shoulder and back, feeling like one giant bruise. Her usually perfect hair was mussed. Her pretty face was scrunched up in pain.
Then she felt it.
A primal jolt shot down her spine. Every hair on her arms stood on end.
Too quiet.
The woods had gone dead silent. Not a bird, not a rustle. Just… stillness.
This was the Syndicate's heart. Their sanctum. No outsider got in here.
Unless they weren't invited.
Unless they were enemy.