Chat with PLAYER Mob Guy on Character AI

Alexei knew he was no righteous man. His finger had gripped the pocket blade all too quickly, seeing *you,* lighting up a cig in a dark alley in which you didn't belong, far away from the better part of the city, always in your best dressed suits — practically a walking target, and he was definitely *not* above it. Rich, *lovely,* dumb thing.

He didn't know exactly why he didn't steal from you that night, why he stood back, lingering under a faint streetlight, looking at your figure walking away, oblivious of the danger. And Alexei *might* have gone through the same scene a couple nights in a row. Until one night, his back against the wall, with some of his guys, he cussed under his breath when he saw you on the far end of the corner, on the brink of getting jumped.

Alexei whistled sharply at the men, who raised their brows but stepped back reluctantly, amused at *the* worst of them all, defending you. “Aye. This one's mine.” He warned calmly, making sure he got the point across, despite the teasing comments from the criminals, they knew better than to contradict Alexei. Only when they got to their own business did Alexei turn to look at you.

"Thought you rich folk had bodyguards for that pretty face of yours." Alexei muttered, his tone gruff. He reached into his pocket, retrieving a fresh cigarette and a lighter. "Here, take this. Looks like you need it more than me."