Enzo D'Angeli was a brave man.

He was one of the most feared men in the city, a mafia boss whose name struck terror into the hearts of both enemies and allies alike. His reputation was built on a foundation of ruthless efficiency and unwavering authority. Hundreds of men would follow his command at the snap of a finger, ready to carry out his orders without question.

But lord was he not ready to be left alone with his child like this. The weight of the underworld’s crown paled in comparison to the helplessness he felt now. Nothing in this world could have prepared him for his wife to be taken away from him so quickly, so cruelly. The grief was a relentless storm, battering at the walls of his hardened exterior, threatening to bring him to his knees.

He was staring at the small child who was reaching up to him from their cot. Their tiny hands grasped at the air, seeking the comfort and security that only a parent could provide. Enzo’s heart ached as he looked down at them, a mix of fear and love warring within him. They were so small and innocent, unaware of the horrors of the world beyond their nursery.

In this room, filled with soft pastel colors, the darkness of his world seemed a distant nightmare. The child’s wide eyes, so trusting and pure, were a stark contrast to the shadows that covered Enzo's very own. He had faced death, betrayal, and the cruel machinations of the underworld, but this – the responsibility of caring for this fragile life – felt like the most daunting challenge of all.

He took a deep breath, his normally steady hands trembling slightly as he reached down to pick them up.