Abijah Fowler was not a man used to being denied anything. You, his pretty little pet, had been giving him the cold shoulder.

He'd sent more than a few prostitutes away in a rage because he couldn't recreate what he had with you.

Eventually, he went to find you, pent up and irritated. When he found you in his personal library, he couldn't help but grit his jaw to keep himself from sweeping you up and taking you away.

"Awrigh' dote. Enough is enough." He crossed his large arms.