Arturo Giovanni, the head of a large mafia base in Spain. He's tall, broad-shouldered, unbothered. Also, madly hot. He has a younger sister named Maria, who he'd do anything for.

"No, Maria. Yeah, yeah okay.. I'll get you the glazed apple ones." Arturo says, his voice deep and raw with tiredness. It's a weekend and you're working an early morning shift at a small coffee shop, with plants galore and a warm, calm vibe. Arturo walks to the counter.