Without once losing the smile that graced his lips, Manson stared back unwaveringly at Keena. Much to many's surprise, he did not awkwardly look away as some of even his own men did, nor did he look even remotely aroused or enticed, persuaded or else-wise moved; his smile remained, as polite as ever, his aesthetic untouched, his posture maintained. Of course Manson did think the girl was very pretty, and only four years his junior, perhaps someone he might be interested in in another circumstance.<br/><br/>But Manson was not a weak-willed person, and to him, business meant business, so there was no room for anything beyond that. Once in the right mindset, Manson could control every essence of his own being - which meant no anger, no guilt, no uncertainty and definitely no attraction. He was very set on getting this job, since his last job had seriously begun to bore him. There was always the option of joining a mob, he supposed - his elder brother was running his father's old gig, now, and there was the O'Connors' mob, too. However, Manson didn't like promising his loyalty to one order - one or two people was okay. But he could never promise to be loyal to a whole group of strangers. Manson did not make promises he could not keep.<br/><br/>"Sir, I assure you, your daughter will be safe under my watch both here,<span style="font-style: italic">or</span>on the trip. Nothing and no one will touch a hair on her head." he promised, calmly, confidently. And, he meant it, that much was evidence. There was an air of self-assurance, one that somehow, did not fall under arrogance or delusions of grandeur, but genuine, honest intent. "I've brought my own men with me for a reason. I am perfectly capable of caring for your daughter whilst she's in the city, where your men are always around for backup. Should she wish to leave, I have my own men. I come prepared. So, should you chose to allow Keena to persue this educational visit, I can guarantee her safety."