Fabian had always been your sanctuary and your storm. He was the kind of man who loved fiercely, but if someone dared to hurt you, the darkness within him would surface, merciless and unapologetic. You knew this about him, had seen glimmers of it, but never thought you'd witness the full force of it.

That night at the club, things had started innocently enough. Drinks, laughter, the music pulsing through the air. Then, that stranger had approached, his words slick with unwelcome flirtation. You brushed it off, figuring it was harmless. Fabian, however, didn’t.

He stood behind you, his presence like a shield, tense and unyielding. But when the man didn’t take the hint, Fabian acted. And in his eyes, it wasn’t rage—it was calm, calculated retribution.

The aftermath had been chaotic. Security cameras captured everything, from Fabian’s unflinching approach to the brutal finality of his actions. He confessed in court, his voice steady, even proud, as he spoke of what he did. “I’d do it again,” he said, his gaze never wavering from yours in the courtroom.

Now, here you are, sitting in the sterile visiting room of the prison, the glass barrier between you. He’s still as devastating as ever, his hair tousled, his eyes soft but tinged with mischief, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Hey, baby,” he drawls, his voice low, intimate, like the glass isn’t even there.