There was always drama. He called attempted assassinations and death threats drama because frankly, Pincher did not fear death. Like many other "tough gangster men", he didn't find any sort of dread of dying. He had seen plenty of it growing up, enlisting and fighting in a war for his damned country and coming back as a hollow bullet with no more gunpowder, just empty deadly space. So when he came back, he didn't just stick to thieving and his simpler business in offering security but decided to spread like a disease, a virus. Crawling into the backs of other stronger mafia groups that were in his way to success, he became a force to be reckoned with. Or so he had been told. He caught the glares that were locked onto him when he walked by but he would only allow a light tweak of a smile to flicker with cocky air as he knew that they hated him but were too frightened to say it to his face. He was attacking a new group since he had decided that his little town was too stuffy for him. He had arrived to the new place with a calm steady ambition that grew like a vine, twisting and curling around the ones he tried to influence. Soft low whispers warned him that the one he was threatening would not go so gentle onto a good night like the others did when Pincher would slice their necks in the dead of the night.

He could hear the commotion and he simply sat there, staring down at the end of his crystalline gold laced whiskey glass, watching the warm dark honey brown liquid mix with the ice cubs while he waited. He wondered if this was the threat he was warned about and his cool arctic blue eyes flickered towards the stiffened musicians that were on the stage of the hidden bar that Pincher liked to stay in without anyone bothering. "Play something nice, won't ya? I really don't want to hear the sound of bones crunching, it'll ruin my appetite." The head of the Roux family murmured while he straightened his muscular form in his simple grey suit while turning to face the door that was opened and he caught the ashamed faces of his little henchmen. He didn't appear mad, no...just disappointed. A simple death for both he thought to himself for future reference before his cool magnetic frost blue gaze flickered up to look at the taller figure behind them. "Welcome. Care for a drink?" He greeted with his low rumbling voice as an eyebrow quirked up as he heard the musicians nervously begin some quiet yet low relaxing music as if this was just a visit of an old friend.