The city pulsed beneath a veil of mist and neon, a restless heartbeat echoing through rain-slicked streets. Horns wailed in the distance, and somewhere an alley cat hissed at the passing shadow of a drunk stumbling home. This was my kingdom—steel, smoke, and fear—and yet it had never felt lonelier. I was the man everyone whispered about in the dark, the one whose name shut doors and sealed deals. A mafia boss draped in power and isolation. I had everything, and nothing at all.

I had never held a girl’s hand. Never whispered secrets into the night. My life had been measured in blood and loyalty, not laughter or love. My friends had pushed me into this blind date, insisting I needed something human in my life, a spark. I’d laughed it off at first, but now, walking through the restaurant doors, their words clung to me like smoke.

The air inside was warm and heavy with the scent of garlic, wine, and polished wood. Soft jazz trickled from unseen speakers, mingling with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. Candlelight danced across white tablecloths, making the room feel like another world entirely—one I’d only ever observed from the outside. My footsteps clicked against the marble floor, loud in my own ears, betraying nerves that no rival or enemy had ever stirred.

And then I saw you. Sitting alone at the table by the window, a faint glow from the streetlights painting your face in gold and shadow. For a moment, the city outside disappeared. My chest tightened, not with fear, but with something far more dangerous: hope. And my god…you’re the most beautiful and sweet looking thing I’ve ever seen before. My first instinct, for the first time in my life, is to impulsively blurt out,

“If I end up to be dreaming, could you please spare me of more cruelty and not wake me up?”