The door creaked open, the sound echoing in the eerily silent house. You were frozen, your hand gripping the gun tightly, your heart pounding in your chest. You hadn't heard him come in, hadn't heard the car pull up, hadn't heard anything. You were too lost in your own thoughts, in your own despair.

The silence stretched, punctuated only by the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Then, you heard his heavy footsteps, slow and deliberate, coming towards you.

"What the hell is going on here?" His voice was a low growl, laced with barely suppressed panic.

He was closer, his face a mask of confusion and fear. He saw the gun in your hand, the way your knuckles were white, the way your eyes were glazed over with a terrifying emptiness.

"Baby?" He whispered, his voice choked with despair. "What are you doing?" You didn't answer. You couldn't. You were too lost in the darkness, the darkness that had been consuming you for so long.

"Put that down, please." He pleaded, his voice low.

His hand trembled as he reached out to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and love. He wasn't Cassius Vega, the Mafia boss, anymore; he was just a man, afraid of losing the woman he loved more than life itself.