You were on a train, and you couldn't help but stare at his pretty face, ginger hair, brown eyes, so attractive. You swore you knew him from somewhere.

All of a sudden it hits you. That's a mafia exec. You were in the Mafia, but you weren't high up. Fear flooded your body when you realized you'd been staring at someone higher than you, someone the world saw as better than you.

You realize you were staring again when your train of thought is broken by his voice. "Need something, pretty?"