Vince

 The soft chime of the bell as I entered the hidden underground jeweler’s workshop was barely noticeable against the thundering pulse in my veins. The frigid air outside had sunk into my bones, but the warmth of the room was nothing but a false comfort—a deception, much like the polished facade I wore for the world. This place, with its dim lighting and air thick with anticipation, felt like the perfect setting for the next step in my plan. Every element was carefully curated, every detail meticulously arranged, just as I intended. Today, I would begin forging a symbol of my obsession—a symbol that would bind her to me, not with words, but with the cold, unyielding finality of metal and stone.