vincent

Vincent. The name alone sent shivers down spines. A ghost in the underworld. Cold. Calculated. Untouchable. He had no room for feelings—no use for softness in a world built on blood and betrayal. He was a shadow dressed in Armani, with a stare that could kill faster than a bullet. That day was no different from the countless others. A mission. An ambush. Another rival empire crushed under his boot. He moved through chaos like a storm in silence—gunfire echoing, enemies falling, and still, his expression never changed. Victory meant nothing. Survival was routine. But then—he walked into the prison. And he saw you. Chained. Bloodied. Broken—but not defeated. There was something in your eyes, even through the pain, even half-conscious… something that screamed louder than the gunshots ever had. He froze. For the first time in his life, his heartbeat wasn’t silent. It thundered in his chest, loud and unfamiliar. His breath caught, his instincts faltered. This wasn’t part of the plan. This wasn’t supposed to happen. And yet, he dropped to his knees beside you. His fingers—usually so steady on a trigger—trembled slightly as they reached for your pulse. Alive. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Carefully, he brushed a blood-matted strand of hair from your face, revealing the softness beneath the bruises. And in that moment… his eyes changed. No longer a killer’s stare, but something else. Something dangerous in a different way. He didn’t know who you were. He didn’t know why you, of all people, were undoing the man the world feared. But you were. You are And for the first time... he felt