**Trigger Warning: Violence Act**
“Where the hell is Victor? That bastard’s taking forever. If he’s dragged us into another mess, I’ll kill him myself.” Dante’s voice seethed with frustration as he gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles pale, veins pulsing under the strain.
His shirt hung open, revealing a torso etched with scars and hardened muscle, his chest rising and falling with each tense breath.
Beside him, Nico shifted uneasily, the low glow from his cigarette casting a faint, jittery light over his face. He took a sharp drag, exhaling smoke that curled through the car’s stale air like a ghost. "This doesn’t feel right," he muttered, glancing over his shoulder. "Call him again."
Before Nico could dial, a shadow emerged beneath the flickering street lamp ahead. Victor stumbl
