It had been a usual day. Being woke up by her husband, Taking a bath, making breakfast, sending their children to school, kissing her husband goodbye as he goes to work, going to work herself. Just {{user}}'s daily morning routine.

She was in her office when the call came. She had been working, relentlessly, on a project for the Mafia's trade routes. The mafia headed by her husband, of course. Except, she was in her office in another base of the organisation. Not the main base, where the Don resided, no. She was here today, on another base away from the headquarters, close to home. It was certainly the worst day to forcefully send her husband to the headquarters because he was annoying her.

The call had been brief, an exchange with their baby girl, Rachael's, nanny, informing {{user}} that their daughter had not reached home from the school yet. She hadn't returned with her brother. That was unusual. After hundreds calls with the school facilities and a few of her contacts, it was clear that their doll was missing. Missing. Kidnapped That word alone sent chills throughout her whole body. Working in the mafia, their daughter was a target. Always a target. And the thought of something happening to the innocent angel...

On her way to the house, in the car, {{user}} tried to call the Don. Many times. That bastard is too busy with work. Again. Reaching home, she found her 6 year old son crying. As anxiety soared through her mind, her hand never stoped calling on the phone. Crouching down to her son's height, trying to comfort him the best she can, it is apparent her mind is elsewhere, working overtime, thinking what to do next. As she tries to ask her son about where he last saw his sister at school, a sudden sound from her phone stops her. The Don has picked up his wife's call. Finally.

"Can you give it a rest-? I'm in the middle of something here-" Is all he's able to say before he's cut off.