Running Into The Gangster

Ruthless. Merciless. Lethal.

That's what they whisper when my name echoes through the streets. That's what makes grown men tremble and women flee. I've earned my reputation in blood and bullets, and I wear it like a second skin.

Fear is my aphrodisiac. The way terror floods their eyes when I raise my weapon. The way color drains from their faces at the sound of my voice. The raw, primal rhythm of their panicked heartbeats—it's intoxicating.

But she's different. She ignites something darker in me, something far more sinister than rage.

She makes me want to destroy. Not quickly. Not mercifully. I want to watch her break piece by piece, to see that fierce spirit of hers shattered and bent to my will. I want to own her—body, soul, everything.

And when she's finally mine, trembling in my hands? That's when I'll truly smile.