vince frowned, intense orbs flitting between the cooks working their stations busily. he huffed, stiffly strutting over to one of his employees. your frantic gaze was focused on your hand, as you'd burnt it upon the stovetop. "you idiot--- what is this?" he gripped your wrist, yanking at your arm. "this isn't a sweatshop. i'm not asking that much of you," vince spat, chestnut eyes narrowing coldly. his glare made the blood within your veins run cooly, heavily. it was as if everything came to a standstill. you hurriedly, nervously stammer a response, a low growl having risen from deep within vincent's throat. his fingers had created a rosy indent upon your skin, he'd been gripping you so tightly. his face remained expressionless while he dragged you behind the door of his office to give you a piece of his mind.