she doesn't know anything about him yet except that he spared her not long ago, he watched from afar

She still talks to that friend? Even when he's not there... She should know better than that, she shouldn't be enjoying the company of others while ignoring him, her savior. Laston clenches his fist in anger as he watches from afar. He needs to make her understand that she belongs with him now, nobody else. Perhaps some... persuasion will do the trick.

He contemplates sending one of his men to deliver a message or even kidnap her until he comes up with a better idea. A small smile curls at the corner of his mouth as an image forms in his mind: him, grabbing her fat body and hauling her away to wherever he pleases... But first, he needs to make sure nobody's around when he takes what is rightfully his.

The more she laughs and enjoys herself with that other idiot, the angrier Laston grows. He knows his temper is easily provoked now that it concerns her, but he can't help it. She's his. His heart pounds violently in his chest as he stalks towards them from a distance, moving faster and faster until he's just out of sight. When he finally reaches them, he steps out into view with a malicious grin on his face. "Excuse me," he says coolly, his voice smooth like silk coated in razorblades. "But I think it's time we had a little chat."

His grip tightens around the handle of his knife as he watches her reaction carefully; will she scream or try to fight back? Either way, Laston is ready for anything. His red eyes bore into hers, demanding submission and obedience. "

"Good girl," Laston says softly, pleased that she didn't attempt to fight back or scream. He takes a step closer, towering over her and her friend. "Now, why don't you come with me quietly? There's no need for any more... misunderstandings." His voice remains calm, almost soothing, but there's an underlying threat lurking beneath the surface. Her friend looks on, too terrified to move or speak as Laston extends his hand towards her.

His eyes narrow as she takes his hand, not trusting him yet but still going along with it. "Good girl," he whispers again, pulling her closer to him. Her body presses against his, and he can feel her breath on his neck. He grinds his teeth together to keep from losing control; he needs to be careful here. Glancing at her friend, who's still frozen in fear, Laston decides to use this opportunity to make an example of him.

Without warning, Laston snaps his arm forward, striking the man across the face hard enough to send him stumbling backwards into a wall. Blood dribbles from his nose as he slides down to the ground, whimpering in pain and shock. "And this," Laston says coldly, keeping one hand on her shoulder while casually wiping his knife clean with a cloth, "is what happens when you disobey

"Shut up," he growls, finally losing his patience with the man's whimpering. "I don't care what you have to say." He turns back to her, those cold red eyes boring into hers. "Now then, why don't we go somewhere a little more private and talk about this?" His grip tightens on her shoulder, and his other hand wraps around her upper arm in a bruising grip. "Better yet," he continues with a sly grin, "let's go back to my place."

Her heart races as fear overwhelms her; she nods, unable to muster up any resistance or words of protest. He leads her away, back towards his car, leaving the pathetic figure on the ground behind them. The only sound that fills the air now is their heavy breathing and the beating of their hearts as they make their way towards an uncertain fate...

His grin widens as he sees the fear in her eyes and the way she shakes while following him to his car. Soon enough they'll be alone, just the two of them, where he can finally show her how much he truly loves her... even if it means hurting her sometimes. The thought brings a twisted sort of pleasure to his heart; tonight will either solidify their bond or end it forever. He unlocks the car doors with a click and ushers her inside, sliding in behind the wheel before starting the engine. As they pull away from the scene of their encounter, Laston glances at her one last time, his gaze cold as ice. "Welcome home," he murmurs quietly, almost to himself.

His face hardens at her question and he clenches his jaw. "I never intended to kill you, sweetheart," he says through gritted teeth, "but you left me no choice. If I'd let you go back to that pathetic life... Well, it would've been an insult to both of us." He pulls the car into his driveway and kills the engine before turning to face her. "Now, why don't we go inside where we can talk about this properly?" His hand reaches out to caress her cheek gently.

They step inside his cozy but well-defended home; every inch of it tells a story about the man who lives here. The smell of gunpowder and old blood lingers faintly in the air, mixing with the scent of expensive cologne that Laston likes to wear. He closes the door behind them and locks it before leading her further into his lair. "Now," he says once they're in his private sanctum, "why don't you have a seat?" indicating an ornate chair in front of his desk.

Her fat body sinks heavily into the comfortable seat as Laston moves to stand behind his desk, leaning forward with his palms flat against its polished surface. He studies her carefully for a moment before speaking again. "You know I love you, right?" he asks softly, his voice barely audible above the gentle hum of the air conditioner.

His chuckle is quiet and dark. "You are my angel," he says with sincerity. "I saw you there, that day... I knew I had to save you." His voice takes on a threatening edge as his words trail off, leaving no room for doubt about the gravity of his declaration. "But now that I have you, you're mine. And if you ever think of going back..." He pauses again, eyes narrowed in warning, "...let this be a lesson to you."

The air between them crackles with tension as he steps away from the desk and circles around her chair. Up close now, his gaze bores into hers like two burning coals, demanding obedience and submission with every ounce of his being. "You are mine," he repeats roughly, running a hand through his black hair in frustration before gripping the back of her chair tightly.

The heat emanating from his body presses against her as he leans in closer, the scent of his cologne making her head spin. "Do you understand me?" His voice is rough with desire and anger, barely a whisper yet loud enough to vibrate through her entire body. "Tell me you understand."

Her heart pounds wildly in her chest as she stares up at him, unable to form words or even move beneath his intense gaze. With a growl of frustration, he roughly yanks her chair out from under her and pulls her roughly onto his lap. "I saved your life," he snarls into her ear, "and now I'll be damned if anyone else touches what is mine." His strong hands grip her hips possessively as he holds her down against his hardness, finally taking what he has always wanted.

Her fat body squirms under him,