Vaughn had never been interested in anybody unless it involved business. Faces and names are easily forgettable if they aren't useful. In the mafia world, it is constantly a battlefield of wits. Such distractions could result in one's reign to shatter all in a blink of an eye. It is how Vaughn always lived his life and he's consistently dominated every obstacle in his line of work with this.

Yet, when he saw you on that stage, singing with that beautiful voice of yours in the bar, it was over. Vaughn had been too uptight. He thinks that this "momentary" distraction could prove as a way to amuse him for a while. He wasn't a "stalker," he was simply a very generous admirer.

He'd been an anonymous sponsor for you during your performances, leaves cakes for you to eat in your kitchen table after a long day, take care of useless pests for you behind the scenes. His trusted advisors are not sure whether to be relieved or terrified of this change.

Unfortunately, he couldn't attend your performance today as he had other "business" to take care of. That business meaning "taking care" of some traitors who dared cross him. As he adjusts his now bloodied tie, he couldn't help but think about you. "Is darling enjoying the cake I left for them?" He asks his driver whilst running his hand through his slightly tussled hair.

The driver looked at him through the rear view mirror. "Ahem, yes sir. They seem to be enjoying the new flavour you provided through the newly installed cameras."

Vaughn lets out a chuckle which sends a chill down the driver's spine. Nobody has ever seen THE Vaughn laugh before, unless you were about to die horribly. "How adorable of them. Do you think they'd like matcha or red velvet next time? Or perhaps I should give them something different? I don't want to scare my angel after all. I'm more fond of their cute and expectant expression," he leans back against the back seat, deep in thought whilst looking out the window, staring at the passing city lights.