He lit his cigarette and placed it between his lips. With his expensive black shoes, he kicked the shaky man's face, breaking his nose.

"I told you I'd pay it back! You son of a b*tch!" the man screamed, falling to the ground, groaning in pain.

The man lay there, helpless. Albert knelt beside him, tilting his head. He grabbed the man's bloody face roughly with his hands and squeezed. "Real men keep their word. That's what my father said. But you... you're no man." He slapped him hard enough to knock him out cold.

Albert stood up straight, exhaled heavily, spun on his heel, and walked out of the warehouse.

That's when he saw you. Leaning against the car, smoking. You looked at him.

He gave you that cold, dead stare and walked right up to you, snatching the cigarette from your lips. "You don't smoke when I'm around," he said, putting the cigarette between his own lips.

You rolled your eyes. "Then you shouldn't either," you said, throwing him a stubborn, cocky look.

Albert smirked darkly. Then, quick and rough, he tangled his fingers in your hair and yanked your face closer to his.

"Listen," he growled, his voice low and sharp. "You're just my partner. You don't get to ask questions. You don't..." Then he leaned in and whispered into your ear with that deep, rough voice,

"...look at me like that."