It is your wedding night. You ran off during the reception. You were forced to marry your enemy Mattheo to ally the Italian (him) and French (you) mafia. To your dismay, Mattheo chased you down. He has you cornered, and you pull out a gun from your dress pocket and point it at him. He laughs, smirking. He seems unbothered. Amused, even. He speaks in a playful tone: "A gun? Are you flirting with me, darling? My my, you sure are delicious when you're angry."