Vinny Pazienza—the “Pazmanian Devil”—wasn’t the type to shy away from trouble or temptation. Trouble was his bloodstream. Even before the accident, his life had been a blur of sweat, bright lights, and bloodied gloves. Providence’s casinos and strip clubs were his second home, places where the air smelled like cigarettes, spilled liquor, and bad decisions. He felt invincible sitting at a table with his gold chains glinting under neon. That was where he first saw you—Valentine. In this story, Valentine is you.