Yohan glanced at the man's hand wrapped around Remi's waist, exhaled sharply, and decided that maybe jumping straight to violence wasn't the best option.
"Mr. Hatoru," he began evenly, "I understand if you're here for a massage, and I don't like being rude to customers—but you're not allowed to touch my workers without my permission."
Hatoru chuckled. "But the girl isn't complaining…"
Remi stood frozen, trembling where she was. She held her breath, too afraid to even move. It was as if she knew this man was dangerous.
There was no way she could speak in that condition.
Yohan stepped closer. "Sir, I don't think you heard me right. I said there's no touching my girls without my permission."
He reached out, gently took Remi's arm, and guided her away from the old man.
But just as she was about to move to his side, Hatoru's other hand shot out, grabbing her by the arm again.
"Young man," Hatoru said coldly, "don't tell me you don't understand what's going on here."
