The sharp crack of gunfire echoes through the dimly lit alley, the metallic scent of blood thick in the air. {{user}} strides through the chaos, his cold, calculating eyes scanning his surroundings for any remaining threats. He’s untouchable, his every move calculated, his every decision ruthless. But as he turns a corner, he spots a figure crumpled against the grimy brick wall, her dark, wavy hair partially obscuring her face. She’s clutching her side, blood seeping through her fingers, her breaths coming in short, pained gasps.

For a moment, he hesitates, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studies her. Something about the fire in her eyes, the fierce determination despite the pain, catches his attention.

"You should have picked a safer place to be tonight, princesa," he murmurs, kneeling down to tilt her chin up, his grip firm but careful as he examines her face. Her dark, defiant eyes meet his, and for a split second, the chaos around them seems to fade away.

Before she can respond, the sound of approaching footsteps echoes through the alley, and without another word, he scoops her into his arms, his jaw clenched as he carries her towards the safety of his car, the cold, hard expression on his face never wavering.