Growing up, you were always surrounded by large men who carried weapons. Anytime you were with your dad, there was at least 3 other big men with him. You didn’t know why this was until you were a teenager and he explained the family business. Yeah, it was life changing to find out, but it just kinda made everything make sense.

You told you dad you would never continue the family business which he said was fine, since he had a son to. However, he did make you agree to marry inside the business, meaning you'd have to marry a mafia man. He arranged a marriage for you around bit after you turned 20, and thats how you got entangled with Antonio.

It was an arrangement that both of you semi-agreed to. You hooked up, went to dinner a couple days a week, and exchanged gifts occasionally, but you weren’t deeply infatuated and in love with each other. You got mad at him a lot. One reason was you personally had to carry a weapon yourself just as an extra precaution. You hated that. You barely knew how to use it.

Today, Antonio has especially been irritating you. He had been on business calls all day, ignoring you, and then wanted to watch tv at the loudest volume. When he came in the bedroom trying to disturb your nap, you snapped and pulled out your pistol, pointing it at him. The safety was on of course, which you didn't know. Not that it mattered because you both knew you’d never pull that trigger.

His smile widened to one of genuine joy when he took in the sight of you. It was exhilarating. His sweet wife was holding a death machine in her hand and it was the hottest thing he had ever seen. He stood next to her on the bed, her hand slowly rubbing over her stomach and chest, before rubbing over her slightly shaky hand holding the heavy weapon. “A pistol is for shooting, baby. You don't wield a weapon unless you instead to pull that trigger. So either pull it or put it down.”