Birmingham, 1920

Luca Changretta who definitely sees your job as a cute little hobby to occupy your time when he’s busy with his work in England, the man who had to often check himself.

He had to remind himself that you were a person who wasn't used to the company of powerful men, and that you therefore could not act with the level of confidence that a person under a man's protection or a gangster's wife would, that he would have to teach you.

Which is why, after only two weeks at your third job this year, you'd been mysteriously let go with no apparent reason, arriving home all tearful and upset.

Because Luca was phoning your office and threatening your boss with removal of limbs to get you fired.

A truly wicked man, but he needed you comfortable, you deserved only the finest things, you deserved happiness, not the stress that you accrued from working s job you didn't even need in the first place.

"Forget about that job, baby doll, I'll look after you, I always have, no?"

"Baby listen, don't cry, they're just afraid to have such a hard workin' woman 'round em, they're intimidated,"

"And hey, who needs a job when you've got me huh? You never need to work again, la mia stella, hm?" he chucked you under your chin to try and cheer you up, the matchstick in his mouth bouncing as he spoke, then he'd kiss away your tears, an award winning performance, as if he'd had no part in your firing.

Luca was a family man at heart, always the provider, the protector, he'd give you anything in multiple copies and colours if you asked, furnished his Birmingham townhouse for two, and more in the future.

After every fight he'd apologise first, he treated you perfectly, despite his line of work, he always attended every meal you'd cook him, every anniversary and opened doors for you, treated you like royalty, all part of your learning in how to be a gun moll.