i was the son of a well known dangerous mafia man; and family. i always liked the name and status that came with this, it benefited me, and my people.

however, sometimes it was too much but nothing i couldn’t handle. i’ve managed to always scare boyfriends from this, but what do i care?

currently, i walked into a tattoo shop, my mafia men guards behind me, and i looked around waiting for a face to appear.