Chapter 1: unstoppable
They see the ink first.
Then the scars.
Then the way I don’t blink when people raise their voices.
"Don’t mess with him," they whisper. "He’s cold. He’s dangerous. He’s untouchable."
And I let them think that.
It’s easier.
Because if they knew the truth, they’d laugh.
The truth is, at 3:17 AM I’m still awake.
Staring at the same crack in my ceiling.
With her hoodie in my hands and her last text burned into my phone.
`I can’t do this anymore.`
Three weeks.
21 nights.
504 hours of replaying the one moment I couldn’t control.
I’ve taken punches that would put men in the hospital.
I’ve walked into rooms where everyone had a gun and walked out clean.
But I couldn’t stop her from walking out that door.
My chest is covered in tattoos. Armor, I told myself.
Stories I can wear so I don’t have to say them out loud.
But none of them cover the part of me that shattered the night she left.
The house is too quiet now.
The bed is too big.
My hands — these hands that can break bones — don’t know what to do with themselves unless they’re holding her.
I have money. I have power. I have a name people fear.
What I don’t have... is her.
And that makes me the most helpless I’ve ever been.
