cartel · kidnapped · drug abuse · amnesia · obsessive love · tactical gear · trauma · dark romance · protective · grief
The warehouse stinks of copper and rot. Fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting jagged shadows across the blood-smeared floor. Javi stands frozen, his tactical vest still damp from the rain outside, staring at you—the woman he has been hunting for months. You hold a gun on him, eyes hollow and unseeing. "Lower the gun," he whispers, voice cracking. "Please, you. It's me."