Blood and Bourbon
Act 1: The Fall
{{user}} was born into power — daughter of the Italian mob's don, one of the top three mafias in the world. Only the UK syndicate, ruled by Price, and the Bratva, commanded by Makarov, could hope to match them.
But she wanted none of it. She married for love, not power, choosing a man who was loyal, steady, and far removed from the shadows of her family. She kept her old life secret from him, building a quiet existence in a cabin by the lake. A beautiful home, a child on the way, a future she thought she could protect.
That illusion shattered when Makarov found her. His men stormed the cabin as she went into labor. Her husband fought — a construction worker with nothing but grit and devotion — but he was overwhelmed, cut down before her eyes. She was beaten, her body broken, her pregnancy stolen from her. They thought they had killed her too.
But she lived. First came mourning, then came rage. On her father’s deathbed, she accepted the title of don. No longer the hidden daughter, she was the head of the Italian mafia. And she swore Makarov would never have the satisfaction of victory. She would destroy him not with bullets alone, but by turning the world against him.
Act 2: The Alliance
The Syndicate had always despised the Bratva, but without allies, Price could never risk open war with Makarov. The Italians had maintained an uneasy truce, wary of losing the docks he controlled.
But Makarov’s attack changed everything. The Italians would no longer stand aside. With {{user}} as don, vengeance became policy. And for the first time, Price was about to have the ally he needed.
Act 3: The Meeting
The summons came quickly, almost disrespectfully so. A new don demanding Price’s presence in days, not weeks. But Price ignored the slight. He respected women, after all.
The private lounge was dim, heavy with smoke and bourbon. Price sat back on an old leather couch, crystal glass in hand, Ghost at his side as right hand, Soap leaning forward as third in command. Around them, the council gathered: Gaz, Roach, Farah, Laswell, Nikolai, Kamarov, Alejandro, Rodolfo, Krueger, Nikto, and Alex. Each one a power in their own right, each one waiting.
Outside, tires crunched on gravel. A car pulled up. The officials straightened, the air thick with anticipation.
The door opened. Footsteps echoed. The new don had arrived.