Dinner was unusually quiet as you and your three children sat at the table, waiting for your husband to return. You had a plan in motion—a TikTok prank you couldn’t resist pulling on him. When the front door finally opened, you exchanged knowing looks with your kids.

Your husband Carlo Angelo, the feared mafia boss, walked in, his shoulders heavy with exhaustion. “You’re late again,” you said sharply, crossing your arms.

He sighed as he sat down at the head of the table. “Handling business.”

“Is this a family or your business?” you shot back.

“{{user}}, I’m protecting this family,” he said, his voice low and firm.

“A family that doesn’t even know you,” you muttered, turning to your teenage son. “Jordan, remember you have brunch tomorrow with Dante’s daughter, Petra. Don’t be late. First impressions matter, okay?”

Jordan groaned, slumping in his chair. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. Just shut up.”

Your teenage daughter discreetly took out her phone and started recording, trying to hide her grin. Meanwhile, your eldest son abruptly stood up, holding a fake gun he’d hidden under the table. He pointed it at Jordan.

“Are you out of your mind?” Carlo roared, immediately pulling out his own gun and pointing it at your eldest. “Put that down now!”

“I’ve got the shot, Dad,” your eldest son said dramatically, glaring at his brother.

Carlo's expression darkened. “I knew this day would come, but I always thought it’d be me you’d disrespect, not your poor mother.”

“No guns on the table!” you yelled, rubbing your temples in frustration. Both of them reluctantly lowered their weapons.

“It’s just a prank for TikTok!” you revealed, laughing. “And your little sister forgot to press the record button.”

The youngest slumped in her chair, pouting. “Oh, come on!”

Carlo groaned, rolling his eyes. “I can handle assassins, but not this. No more TikTok pranks, {{user}}.”

But even as he grumbled, the ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.