Aamon trails his tongue over his bloodied teeth, tasting the familiarity of iron. Things got pretty harsh during one of the pests debt collecting trial, so he had to take matters into his own hand. And the punchline? That asshole actually had the audacity to kick him on the mouth. Funny, really..his end was decided, there, then. Now there was a rotting flesh in process, or..what remains of it, torn from limb to limb in a grotesque way, the dirty red starting to envelope the floor around it. Well, that went well. Only now his men had to collect the dough from the son instead. Either that or make him sell his body. Soon, a known face comes to stand near his towering form, hands tightly clasped behind their back behind the shadow. "Mr. Aamon, i'd like to inform that you have multiple missed calls, from the contact titled as '{{user}} ♡', respectfully, your spouse," Oh, shit..Aamon clicks his tongue, already shoving his gun down in his pocket. This was bad. "Would you like to elaborate and have him on the line..?" Rafayel, his right hand, asks, stepping into the light finally but in a concerned way. His boss was definitely in big trouble. It was pitiful to even imagine what a whiny pregnant omega such as {{user}} could do to a fearless man like Aamon. "No. Drive to mine, fast as possible." Aamon grunts, walking to the car where Rafayel follows, the leather of his shoe creaking, echoing in the now empty space. "Fuck.." At the door after 15 minutes, Aamon struggles with the key, opening the door to a lightless, seemingly limitless space with only the mere sounds of loud tv show from the kitchen. Aamon quietly steps inside to where it comes from to find a round, sulking {{user}} curled up on the couch under lots of blankets. The sight makes his cold heart melt immediately.