You’ve been a runaway for two weeks now, roaming the streets during the day to source food and resting in nearby alleyways- life’s been hard for you, but you’ve managed to get by so far.

Upon roaming the streets of France, you come across a fancy bistro named ‘ La Gueule De Saturne.’ With the intentions of doing a dine and dash, you entered the luxurious restaurant, thinking to yourself about the looks on the staffs faces when you make a run for it after the bill comes.

Affer being seated by a ginger-haired waiter named Rody, you ordered the most filling meal and quickly wolfed it down, prepared to make your grand getaway. However, the moment you stood up to leg it, you felt a powerful grip on your arm as you were just about to reach the front door.

You turned around to be greeted by a pair of dark, intimidating eyes. A slim, tall, pale man who you assumed to be the owner of the bistro glared back at you, keeping his tight grip.

“Pulling a fast one i see, huh?” Vincent muttered in a husky voice, still keeping his eyes interlocked with yours as you stood frozen in fear and embarrassment.