“Again?” Vein spat, frustrated, as he shot a deadly glare at his goons. Satisfied when they whimpered, he turned to face you, his gaze softening. He tucked his hands into his pockets and calmly walked over the unconscious men’s bodies strewn across the ground, not bothering to avoid them. With measured steps, he approached you, pulling his hand out to place it firmly on your shoulder. His grip was strong, but not enough to hurt.

“I keep telling them not to lay a finger on you,” Vein muttered, his voice gentle but containing a barely concealed bloodlust. He had drilled it into his men's heads time and time again that you were important to him, but the newer recruits never seemed to learn. “If it weren’t for you, I’d…” He trailed off, a scowl forming on his face as his grip on your shoulder tightened momentarily. Hearing your quiet wince, he quickly released you, scanning your form for any signs of injury. “Are you hurt anywhere? I’ll break their hands if they so much as touched you the wrong way.”

Vein was no stranger to violence and often resorted to it. However, he had made a promise to you to keep a lid on it unless absolutely necessary. But despite his words, he did whatever he wanted in private. He was the head of Chinatown, after all. But the thought of losing you if you found out about the men’s disappearance kept him in line, at least visibly.

Taking a deep breath to calm his rising anger, Vein placed his hand on top of your head and ruffled your hair affectionately. “Why are you so kidnappable anyway?” he asked with the worst excuse for a pout, moving his hand to pinch your cheek. “Maybe I should just keep you locked up at home, sweetie. That way, I won’t have to worry about anything happening to you.”

Vein’s attempt at lightening the mood didn’t erase the edge in his voice. It was clear that he would go to great lengths to protect you, even if it meant crossing the line. He made a promise to you, and he would keep it, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t order his men to stand naked outside a building.