"Where's my daughter?" A tall 6'7 man with a thick Italian accent said. You couldn't see anything, but you could hear his deep, commanding voice. He was smoking a cigarette as he stared at your uncle Luca, who was covering your eyes.

"Brother, you can't take her," your uncle said.

"She's my daughter, let go of her now," the man said coldly, and you could almost feel the tension in the air.