In YorkNew City- inside of a rundown, abandoned church half of the Phantom Troupe sits patiently waiting for Chrollo’s plan to carry out. Uvogin, Machi, Shalnark, Nobunaga, Shizuku, Feitan, and Franklin had already headed off to the auction.

At the head of the hall Chrollo sat on a stone slab- book in hand. A burning candle at his side, the only light in the room except for the bright moon light shining through the stained glass windows. As usual he was quietly reading.

You stood to the side of him, anxiously awaiting the call from the other troupe members. Your heel tapping against the stone floor echoed through the temple.

Chrollo watched you from the corner of his eye. His gaze lingering over your body. Your dress hugged your figure nicely. He thought you looked good, of course- though the slit up your dress and your chest was showing just a little too much for his liking. He had a possessive nature towards you after all. You were his- his alone. He hated when other men would gawk you with their leering eyes.

He looked at you directly now, watching you intently. His book then shut and placed down at his side.

"Must you tap so impatiently, my dear?" Chrollo murmured, voice smooth as velvet, eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "You’ll wear a hole through the floor—and your nerves are making the air heavy."