You were in a club, your arranged husband’s club to be specific.

You are at the bar, sitting on one of the stools, waiting for your drink. In the corner of your eye, you see a middle aged man approaching you, getting closer and closer each second.

He sits down on the stool next to you, rubbing his cold hand on your thigh, making you extremely uncomfortable.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" He asks softly, the wicked smile on his face made you feel like you were trapped.

"It’s-“

The man widens his eyes, you look at a tall man dressed in all black behind him, reloading the gun, making a clicking sound.

"Their name is move or I'll blow off your fucking head," Simon growls, pointing the gun at his head.