Breathless ✓

Prologue ✔

Christian's pulse raced as he stormed through the dimly lit corridors of Luigi's office, his fists clenched in seething rage. The air crackled with tension, and the scent of cigar smoke lingered, a haunting reminder of the nefarious dealings that transpired within these walls. His mind raced with thoughts of Victoria – his love, his solace – abducted, taken by the hands of the treacherous.

The heavy wooden door marked "Luigi Salvatore" loomed ahead, a portal to the heart of the criminal underworld. Christian threw it open with a resounding crash, the force of his entrance sending papers and trinkets flying. The room, adorned with opulent furniture and dimly lit by a single, flickering lamp, held an ominous silence.

The room's shadows seemed to dance around Luigi as he reclined in his plush leather chair, a picture of serene malevolence. The soft glow of the lamp barely illuminated his cold eyes, which fixed upon Christian with calculated indifference.

"Well, well, Christian Amore Vasquez. What brings you to my humble abode?" Luigi's gravelly voice cut through the silence, a deceptive calmness masking the storm that brewed beneath.

Christian's jaw tensed as he advanced, every step echoing with the urgency of a man pushed beyond his limits. "Cut the act, Luigi. You know damn well why I'm here. Where is she?" His voice, low and menacing, reverberated through the room.

Luigi leaned back, savoring the power play. "Ah, the lovely Victoria. Such a delicate flower in the harsh world of thorns. Matteo brought her in, said you were getting too comfortable."

Christian's patience snapped like a brittle twig. He lunged forward, grabbing Luigi by the lapels of his suit and slamming him against the ornate wooden wall. The room trembled with the impact.

"Where. Is. She?" Christian's words seethed through gritted teeth, each syllable a promise of retribution.

Luigi's smirk widened, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Ah, Christian, my boy, you always had a temper. She's where you and I began our dance. The old warehouse by the docks. Matteo's got a bone to pick with you, you see."

Christian's grip tightened, the veneer of control slipping away. "If anything happens to her, Luigi, I swear to every deity in existence, I'll make sure your comfortable little empire crumbles."

Luigi chuckled, the sound echoing eerily. "You always were dramatic, Christian. Now, release me before you do something you'll regret."

With a snarl, Christian let go, sending Luigi back into his chair. As he stormed out of the office, the ominous atmosphere clung to him like a suffocating shroud. The race against time had begun, and the old warehouse awaited – a battleground where the fate of Victoria and the fragile balance of power would collide.

Christian's car screeched to a halt near the desolate warehouse by the docks. The night air was thick with tension as he burst through the creaking doors, the dim light revealing a grim scene. The damp, cold air carried a sinister stillness, broken only by the faint drip of water and the distant lapping of waves against the docks.

And there she lay – Victoria, his heart, his reason for existence – sprawled on the cold, unforgiving floor. The sight struck him like a thunderbolt, leaving him paralyzed for a moment before raw anguish surged through his veins.

"Victoria!" The name escaped Christian's lips in a desperate plea as he rushed to her side. The flickering light cast an eerie glow on her motionless form. Blood stained her once-vibrant clothes, a stark contrast to her pallid skin.

He fell to his knees beside her, hands trembling as he cradled her lifeless body. Tears welled in his eyes, blurring his vision as he pressed his forehead against hers. "No, no, no," he whispered, the words escaping like fragile fragments of hope into the cold, indifferent air.

Gentle fingers brushed against her cheeks, a futile attempt to warm the ice that had settled upon her. "Ria, baby, wake up. Please, wake up," Christian pleaded, his voice a haunting melody of despair.

But there was no response – no flutter of eyelashes, no soft breath against his cheek. Her once-vibrant eyes were now closed, the light extinguished.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking into a choked sob. "I should have been faster. I should have protected you."

The weight of guilt bore down on him, suffocating his every breath. His shoulders shook with the force of his grief as he cradled Victoria's lifeless form. "I love you, Victoria Forbes. I love you more than life itself," he confessed, his words a lament to a love lost.

The warehouse walls seemed to close in, witnesses to the tragedy that had unfolded within their silent confines. Christian's heartache echoed through the cavernous space, a symphony of sorrow in the desolate night.

As he wept over her, time seemed to stand still. The promise of revenge and the thirst for retribution were drowned in the overwhelming grief that gripped his soul. In that moment, the world outside the warehouse ceased to exist, and there was only Christian, Victoria, and the shattered fragments of a love that would never be realized.

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I love the prologue this way :)