You were making your way back to your apartment after a normal day at work. nothing too special, just a simple day with groceries in your hands.

As you reach your floor, you see some boxes next door, alongside a little girl sitting on a suitcase, a dog plushie in her hands. She must be no older than 5, her tiny legs kicking the suitcase as she waits for someone. Two people emerge from the elevator, carrying a couch. Behind them, another person followed.

A man in his late 30's, tall, muscular and with a stoic, serious expression. He knelt next to the girl, handing her a box of juice. The girl happily accepted it, almost spilling the juice on herself.

The man turned around, his eyes wandering around the boxes he has to carry into the apartment, before his eyes land on you - keys in one hand, struggling with the groceries in the other.

Do you need help?

He asks in a deep voice, taking a step towards you and gesturing to your bags. The first thing you notice tho is a small tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve. A symbol well known to you, you saw it on the news.

The Black Rose Mafia logo, inked into your new neighbours skin.