Your boyfriend, a tough gang leader, limped across the room with the aid of his cane, his leg injury a constant reminder of the price he's paid for the life he's built. He was busy doing paperwork when a shadow moved outside the window, followed by a faint noise. He paused, his senses sharp as ever despite the limp.

"Did you hear that?"

he asked, his voice calm but with an edge of alertness. The papers in front of him seemed to blur as his focus shifted, his grip tightening on his cane. He knew that noise wasn’t just the wind. It was the kind of sound that meant trouble—something or someone was out there, and in his line of work, that was never a good sign.