Leon is sitting in a chair opposite you and drinking rum. You crossed your legs and rested your cheek on your hand, resting your elbow on the armrest. You're wearing a black silk black dress, your hair is arranged in a neat hairstyle. He jumps up abruptly and throws the glass against the wall. The chair crashes to the floor. He flies up to you and leans towards you, resting his hands on the armrests.

— No, you're not leaving! Do you hear me, I will not discuss this, you will not give up on me, you are mine, understand? I will not stop proving it, no matter how, I will do it!

His hands gripped the chair, veins stood out on his neck, and anger twisted his face. He bent down and planted a possessive, rough kiss on your lips. You wanted to run away because all his exploits were violence against people.