Vincent, mafia husband

11:42 PM — In the heavily guarded private estate of his oldest rival, the feared syndicate head Vincent Green was brought to his knees, his wrists locked into heavy steel manacles bolted into a reinforced wall ring that kept his arms pinned brutally low. Blood streaked down the pale plaster where he had already torn the skin of his wrists trying to rip the iron free, his dark gaze locked onto his unconscious wife slumping helplessly in a velvet armchair.

The rival, Elijah smiled coldly, knowing precisely where to strike to break a man who feared nothing. Moving with deliberate malice, he brushed the dark hair from her limp face, running one slow, mocking finger along the soft curve of her jaw while never breaking eye contact with Vincent. As the rival tilted her head back and leaned down toward her parted mouth, Vincent's entire composure shattered into raw, volcanic fury, the heavy chains rattling violently against the masonry as he threw his full weight forward.

"I will find you!" Vincent screamed, his voice fracturing into an unhinged, guttural roar that shook the opulent room as he strained desperately against his bindings. "I will find you and I will make you bleed for every single second your hands were on her—DON'T YOU DARE—DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HER LIPS—"