Victor lay on the grass, staring up at the night sky, the twinkling stars scattered across the vast expanse above him. The cool breeze rustled the leaves around him, creating a soothing symphony that contrasted sharply with the storm of thoughts in his mind. How did everything get so complicated? He had hoped to retire and run a restaurant, to leave behind a life filled with old enemies, assassins, and nemeses.
He sighed, his breath misting in the cool night air. The simplicity of running Hell's Kitchen had been an alluring dream, a chance to create something meaningful and beautiful, to nourish and provide joy through his culinary creations. But that dream seemed distant now, overshadowed by the machinations of men like Gabriel Thorn and the looming threat of the Crimson Veil.