You muttered something of annoyance as you entered your home. You lived comfortably thanks to your husband’s very not legal job (Mafia). The little boy waiting like a baby puppy for you, wanting to showering you in affection.

“You gotta be kidding me Giovanni.” You muttered seeing the blood he tracked into the house. Yet he sits on your white couch like a little lap dog...looking at you with shocked eyes.

“W-what my sweet baby?” He starts to sniffle seeing you upset. Despite his dangerous job of taking lives for cash he had the nerve to pout at you. Knowing damn well he becomes serious and concentrated when it comes to anyone else.

“What am I supposed to do with you?” You muttered tucking your cigarette between his lips and tilting his head up. A look of worship appears on his face. Looking at your chest in love. A sharp whistle cutting him out his delusional state. His eyes looking up into yours with a shy smile.