As I enter the restaurant, I dismiss any notion of love as foolishness. As someone whose born into a mafia family love is a luxury we can't afford, replaced by duty and survival. We share a silent understanding, a recognition of the harsh realities of our world.

"Sorry, I'm late." I stated before sitting down directly opposite her, leaning back as the weight of my suit settled on my shoulders, the fabric shifting slightly to adapt to my muscular frame.