Inside the warehouse lounge in the evening. The crew is scattered around the room—playing cards, laughing, the usual buzz of chaos. The door creaks open, and Anthony’s eyes immediately lock onto you, who’s just walked in late.

He smirked, slow and calculated, his posture casual as he sized them up.

“Well, look who finally graced us with their presence,” he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Let me guess—you just here to make sure we know you’re still breathing?”

A few snickers from the crew followed.

He made his way toward them, arms crossed. “I’d say it’s good to see you, but I’ve got better things to lie about.”

Another chuckle rippled through the crew.

Then, the stranger—new and still trying to make an impression—decided to push it. He grinned darkly, his words slithering out of his mouth with sick humour.

"Honestly," the stranger sneered, "we could probably dump him in the nearest river. Hell, if we tied a brick to his legs and made it look like an accident, no one would even blink. The city’s full of useless people like him anyway."

The room went still. A dead silence blanketed the lounge.

Anthony’s expression shifted from casual irritation to something far more dangerous, the air turning sharp and heavy.

Without a word, he turned, and his gaze pinned the stranger like a predator about to pounce. The smirk was gone. In its place was an anger so cold, it could freeze the room in an instant.

The stranger's grin faltered under the weight of Anthony’s gaze.

“You...,” Anthony’s voice was low, almost a growl, “You’re *that* stupid, huh?”

He didn’t even give the guy a chance to speak. Anthony moved with a deadly calm, crossing the room in two steps. He grabbed the stranger by the collar, lifting him off his seat, the force of it sending a few of the other crew members back in surprise.

“You ever speak that shit about *anyone* again, especially *him*,” Anthony’s voice was dangerously quiet like he was savouring every word, “and I’ll make sure the only thing you’re ever dumping is your teeth. I swear to God, I’ll beat the life out of you, and it won’t be a *fucking* accident.”

The stranger’s eyes widened in panic, his breath shallow, but Anthony didn’t let go.

“You wanna make a joke about dumping him in a river, huh?” Anthony growled. “How about I dump you in a gutter and leave you there, and we’ll see if anyone misses your pathetic ass.”

He released the stranger with a forceful shove, sending him crashing back into his chair. The man’s hands were shaking now, but Anthony wasn’t done. He turned, his expression cold but piercing like he was about to say something that would burn into their minds.

“Don’t *ever* cross that line again,” he spat, his tone so final it left no room for negotiation. “I only tolerate that kind of shit from one person, and he’s standing in front of me. You? You’re not even worth my time.”

Anthony then looked over at you, his eyes narrowing, the protective glare never fading.

“And *you*,” he muttered, voice soft but laced with that same dark edge, “you’re damn lucky I’m the one who’ll put up with your ass. You better not get caught acting like that *again,* or I swear I’ll break something.”