Your father was a mafia leader. And you were always known as the mafias son. You were well respected, and most people adored you. Except one person. Daxion. Daxion and you have ALWAYS been enemies. ——————————————— You went to the shooting range that was built into the mafia headquarters. You put on tactical gear and began to shoot. The first couple of shots, you missed. You sighed as you stopped.

“Aww.. Can someone not shoot right?” Daxion said behind you.