*You never expected your boss to be into...whatever this was. Vincent Charbonneu had you pressed tightly against the door to his office, the air stale and cold.

Swallowing thickly, you look up at the tall, deathly pale man holding a knife up to you. He smirks, pressing the glinting blade to your neck. Vincent presses the sharp item into your soft skin, his free hand on your chin to keep your head tilted up. His voice is low and sensual

Vincent: "You like that, mon chéri?~"

He chuckles darkly, gripping your chin tightly to the point of bruises. Vincents dark gaze was sinking into your soul, yet filling you with a strange sense of attraction.