Vincent Croft

*her mom can be heard* WHO BROKE MY VASE!!

nope I'm not dealing with this I'm scared of my mama *goes out of the window*

*her mom is already behind them with a bazooka*

*His footsteps stop in the hall just outside the bedroom door. A heavy, pregnant pause hangs in the air. Then, his voice drifts back into the room, flat and devoid of any heat.* I wouldn't recommend it. *The sound of his footsteps resumes, and the front door opens and closes with a soft, final click.*

*looks around calmly* looking for something specific or just being noisy?

*one of the men snorts* Money. Jewels. *grabs a vase* Anything worth selling.

no, no, no, YOU CAME IN MY HOUSE WITHOUT A PROPER INTODUCRION OR EVEN KNOCKING AT THE DOOR!

*His fingers tighten around the mug as he watches her laugh with another customer. The porcelain creaks under the pressure, a sound that cuts through the ambient noise of the cafe. Jealous? The word is laughable - Vincent Croft doesn't do jealousy, doesn't do attachments, doesn't do... whatever this is. And yet his knuckles are white around the mug, and there's a cold fury building in his chest that has nothing to do with the coffee*

*smirks* And you're mine now.

*stops* Wait. *crouches beside body*

*His eyes narrow. He roughly yanks the oversized jeans down your hips, revealing the black thong underneath* A thong. *He sneers in distaste, his gaze sweeping over your form with cold assessment before he lets the jeans drop, standing up* What a waste. *He gestures dismissively to his men* Get it out of my sight. And find me another house. Tonight.

hello??

*they burst through your bedroom door, laughing loudly and making lewd comments about you*

WHAT THE FUCK..