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"So, what's your family like?" Micah asks, setting his fork down. He decided to take Evelyn to an atmospheric, French restaurant near his house. The inside of the restaurant was dimly lit with crystal chandeliers hanging down the ceiling, the floors sparkled with cleanliness, the walls were decorated with intricate white and beige details, lengthy mirrors, and there were rows and rows of circle dining tables atop of which sat white silk table covers and swan shaped napkins. 

It was far too fancy in Evelyn's mind, and she felt intimidated by the other guests who were dressed in full length gowns and suits. Still, she put on her bravest attitude and faced Micah. 

"Oh, I don't have much family, I only have my dads and my grandparents. But they're all great." Evelyn replied, giving him a small smile as she drank from her glass. 

"Oh, you're an orphan?" He asked, a smirk on his lips. 

"Um- I guess?" She replied hesitantly, furrowing her eyebrows. 

"You're a damaged little girl, aren't you?" He continued, his grin growing wider.

She shifted in her seat uncomfortably and continued awkwardly eating her meal. 

"What's your family like?" She asked, after a while of silence. 

He shrugged his shoulders and shifted the topic back to her. 

"What do you do outside of work? Got any boyfriends'?" He chuckled, looking down at her. 

She nearly choked on her water, "Boyfriends? Plural?" 

"Well, pretty girl like you, probably can't keep the guys off of you, huh?" He raved, creeping his hand up her thigh under the table. 

"I don't- I don't have any boyfriends." She stammered, peeling his hand off of her. 

"You're such a tease, you know that? You're always strutting around the cafe in your tight clothes, smiling at me. It's so obvious that you want my attention, and now that I'm giving it to you, you don't wanna give me anything back?" He snapped, slamming his other hand down against the table, making the plates and cups rattle. 

"I wasn't trying to do anything, but I'm sorry if it seemed that way. I'm going home now." She murmured, standing up and grabbing her bag. 

He stood up immediately after her, grabbing her arm. "You're not going anywhere, you little slut." 

"Let go of me!" She exclaimed, trying to pull her arm out of his grasp. A man approached the two and pulled Micah off of her, pushing him to the ground and sending a swift punch to his jaw. 

Micah groaned in pain and held his jaw, curling up on the floor. 

"Are you okay?" The man asked Evelyn, looking down at her with concern as he rubbed his bloodied knuckles. 

"I-I'm fine, thank you for helping me," She shook her head in disbelief, her voice shaky, "Who are you?" 

"I'm Roman. You should get home, It's late." He added, his gaze softening. She nodded and exhaled, looking back at them one last time, and giving Roman one last sad smile before walking away. His heart shattered for her. 

(Roman's POV)

I waited for her to leave, and I picked Micah up by the scruff of his shirt like a dog, carrying him outside. The whole restaurant was watching us, but I didn't care. I was fueled by rage in that moment. 

I applauded myself for tracking him down, finding out what restaurant he was taking her to, and sneakily making a reservation for myself, because if I hadn't, who knows what he would've done to her. I told him that I'd kill him if he touched her, and he did not heed my warning. That's on him. 

"What the fuck, man?! Get off of me!" He grunted, struggling.

"You did not get off of her, why would I get off of you?" I replied shortly, pushing him into the back seat of my car. 

"You're fucking crazy!" He shouted, trying to open the car doors that were locked shut. I rolled my eyes at his profanities and began driving back to my house, ignoring the commotion of the restaurant employees as they ran out of the establishment and watched me drive off.

I turned the volume of the radio all the way up, swaying my head to the loud music as I drowned out his screams and pleas for help. With one hand, I lit a cigarette and brought it to my lips, and my other hand was tightened around the steering wheel, making my knuckles turn white. I heard the faint noise of his coughing as I didn't bother to open the window, and I chuckled at his display of weakness. 

"If you don't stop screaming, I will pull over and kill you right now." I warned, looking at him in the rearview mirror, my voice dangerously low. 

"You won't do shit, you weak excuse for a man!" He fumed, thrashing around the backseat. He was starting to annoy me. 

"You're right, I don't want to get my car dirty. You're not worth it," I sighed, and continued, "Here's what I will do, though." 

I pulled over to the side of the road and pulled a roll of tape from the glove compartment, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling his arms up roughly, taping his wrists together. I followed by taping his mouth shut, avoiding his rabid biting. I pushed him back onto the seat and began driving again. 

"You know, If you listened to me from the beginning, we would not be doing this right now." I explained, throwing the butt of the cigarette into the back seat and listening to him cry out in pain as it landed straight on his arm and burned his skin. 

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