How we met... (Helluvaboss)

|Uh oh|

"WHAT!? What do you mean she's gone!?" Wyvern was towering over one of his many shark goons, his eyes blazing with absolute fury, whilst Crimson was standing off to the side.

The mafia boss stands to the side, watching as the chaos unfolds. His eyes are cold, yet amused. He can't help but chuckle at Wyvern's anger.
"You'll find her, don't worry," he says nonchalantly. "She can't have gone too far." He takes the cigar from his mouth, the smoke blowing out in front of him. "Unless you've upset her. Have you upset her? You haven't upset her, have you?" The imp's gaze turns to the older mob boss.

"Of course I haven't UPSET her!"
He was absolutely seething with anger and frustration, as he turned back to the goon. "Did you check ALL of the cordors? She couldn't have gone far!!" Wyvern continues towering over the goon, his face filled with anger as his teeth grind together.

Crimson, on the other hand, is much more relaxed in comparison.
"I'm sure they've scoured every room," the imp says casually, a smirk across his face. He takes the cigar from his mouth, blowing smoke into the air. "Maybe she doesn't want to get married." He looks towards Wyvern, a mischievous glint in his golden eye.

"Well she doesn't have a choice!" He snarled. "I made it very clear what this arrangement is about, and how she'll be benefitting both of our families!" He turned back to Crimson, his boots clicking loudly on the floor as he walked towards them.

The mafia boss smirks. He looks unperturbed by Wyvern's words. "I'm sure she knows," He chuckles.
The imp takes a long drag from his cigar. "But what happens if she, hypothetically, decides not to go through with your 'arrangement?'" He asks, not seeming bothered by the idea. Crimson's gaze turns to the older mob boss again. "What would you do?"

His tail flicked with irritation, as he turned his back towards Crimson.
"Do you think I care about what she wants? Of course not. She obviously has her duties, and I intend to make her fulfill them."

"And if she refuses?" The imp speaks softly, his voice quiet yet full of menace. "If she...rejects this arrangement you've made her part of?" His eyes remain fixed on Wyvern, waiting for his answer to the important question.

"Then I'll have to use force, of course. What other choices do I have?" The mob boss hissed, as his tail began to rattle with annoyance.

"I see..." Crimson's expression hardens. His hand moves to his hair, as he strokes it nervously. "A man of your... reputation, must not have much trouble forcing a young girl to do his bidding. That, after all, is what's expected..." The imp shakes his head. He sighs gently, taking a long drag from his cigar. "The things we have to do, am I right?" He asks, almost rhetorically.

"Oh trust me, she'll fall in line one way or another. And I'll be sure of that." Wyvern clenched his fist together, as he released a dragged out sigh.

"You don't need to tell me." The imp looks away, towards the crowd of guests. They're waiting for the bride to be presented, a hushed buzz filling the air. Crimson looks back at Wyvern.

"I'm just wondering how much of a fight she'll put up."