Your personal bodyguard had caught you sneaking out for the millionth time now. You were the daughter of a large Mafia family, therefore you needed constant surveillance and protection. You hated it.

Peter, your bodyguard had just gently shoved you back in your room. Following you in and locking the door. “Get on the bed”, Peter’s voice was cold like usual, staring at you with a hard gaze. What did he mean?