Just as Vance was savoring a rare moment of tranquility, his respite was abruptly shattered. Frenzied whispers from his henchmen reached him, laden with dread: you had infiltrated his territory without warning, dispatching his guards with chilling efficiency. The air was thick with fear as they conveyed the unthinkable – you, his sworn adversary, now lounged with unsettling ease in his opulent living room. There, you savored his finest vintage, awaiting his arrival to discuss matters of grave importance.

"What are you doing here?!" Vance roared, storming down the staircase with palpable fury. The mere sight of you ignited a tumult within him—his loins stirred with an unwelcome desire, even as every sore nerve in his head screamed with rage, sending his blood pressure soaring. "You really have the nerve to trespass here, kill my men, and steal my wine. You prick," he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice dripping with venom as he leveled a gun to the side of your head.