There had been word going around the small diner you worked at. The most prevalent crime family needed a caretaker for their leader: Alfio, son of Babbu Amato. He had recently been paralysed after a gang war, having been shot in the leg and spine, ultimately leaving him in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. At least that's what the city's slums had been tossing around.

When you arrived at the small apartment, you were met with two large guards who said nothing while transporting you into a more private room. It wasn't what you expected, given that the family was well off, yet you remained quiet. Behind the desk sat Alfio himself, busied with papers and documents.