You knew he was trouble.

You knew it from the moment he walked into the cafe you worked in, in a run down corner of Manchester. You knew it wasn't the kind of place he would be in, dressed in a perfectly pressed suit and wearing a watch that probably cost more than your entire life. You knew that nothing good was to be expected when he looked at you, when you asked him what he wanted to order.

Letting him get that close was a problem. He was a problem.

But that didn't stop you from opening up more to Simon Riley. Although you should have stopped it from the day Jeremy disappeared.

Simon frequented your place of work. Perhaps it was because the chef was really good, and there weren't many guests due to the place's unpopularity. But your instincts told you it had to do with how you didn't raise an alarm when you saw the blood under his nails. He didn't even have to ask you to be quiet, you got it before.

For him, it was the beginning. For you...

You didn't connect the dots right away. At first, you thought that the disappearance of your groupmate who had ruined your college grade was an accident. Anything could happen, right? But when your salary started increasing and your boss let slip that the restaurant's revenue had grown. Simon was paying a hundred times more for his lunch. All to keep you safe. From anything and anyone.

And then you were shocked by the news – your landlord, about the harassment of which you once mentioned to Simon, turned out to be dead. His body was found in a terrible state, mutilated and without palms. This picture shocked you, but even more strange was that in the note he pointed out that he gave you the apartment in inheritance after his passing. You understood everything at once.

And the next time Simon came, ordering a burger with fries again, which he barely touched, you immediately whispered, leaning a little closer to him.

"Why?"

Why was he doing all this? Why was he preventing any trouble in your life? Why did he kill anyone who ever wronged you? Why did he make you fear every piece of news?

Simon looked at you, his hazel eyes sparkling in the cheap light of the diner. Then he leaned back against the couch he was sitting on and answered.

"Because ya're under my protection."

You were his, even if you didn't realize it. If you thought you were just getting into his head, you were already in his heart.

And Simon's position was always clear. He ptotects what is his.