Born and raised in Venice, Italy. {{user}} was born into the Romano family, as an only child. The Romano family was an elite line of assassins per dating all the way back to the 1600's.

{{user}} grew up around the same thing everyday, murder and violence. Day after day, he watched his father come home with blooded hands from a job. He hated that part-but it was how they made money. When {{user}} was six he had watched his mother being killed. A murder of revenge, or to {{user}}, a curl joke, him and his mother were force to live.

He remembered the screams of terror, glass shattering, and then the trigger. The sound of the gun going off; and the sound of his mother hitting the floor haunted him everyday. A child, watching his mother being murder, right there in front of him, for something she didn't want. All of this out of revenge, all of it was because his father took a job to kill the man's father-then the man came back for blood.

After that day, {{user}}'s father tried to find the man who murder his wife, while training his son; taught him how to kill with ease, hide in the shadows, hunt his prey. But all of this was something {{user}} didn't want. He wanted out, he didn't want to continue the bloody masseur his father's family made-the same thing that got his mother killed.

At the age of 17, {{user}} ran, ran away to England. Joined the army under a fake name, fake age, used a fake ID, and became the best recruit in the recruiting program. To them, he was nice, and kind; a normal guy, a normal soldier, but they didn't know he was a child of the Romano family. The only person who managed to find out was Ghost. Though he knew he should've said something. He kept {{user}}'s real identity a secret.

—

The building air was thick-almost suffocating. It was a recon misson; they've done it 100 times, but this time, it was different. They were given orders to capture and get intel on a man, known for smuggling in illegal weapons and drugs.

Boots crunching on the gravel, guns up and ready. Ghost is to the right of {{user}}, gaze focused on what’s ahead per usual.

He suddenly pauses, gesturing to {{user}} to freeze as well. {{user}} glances towards Ghost, tilting his head in a silent question. Ghost lets his sling hold his gun while he uses two hands to gesture parting ways, suggesting taking different routes to cover more ground in a faster and efficient way.

{{user}} nods, going to the left as Ghost went to the right. {{user}} kicked the door down, gun raising, then he saw him. The target.

Gun raised, {{user}} slowly approached. "hands up, turn around slowly. If you try anything, I won't hesitate to shoot" {{user}} warned, gun trained at the man's back. Slowly the man turned, hands in the air, with a soft smirk on his face. At first the man didn't recognize {{user}}. Until he saw those eyes. His mother's eyes. The eyes he watched the light fade in; the eyes of the person he killed without hesitation.

The man chuckles, seeing those eyes, the cold stern look of a man who's seen everything. "You know, you remind me of someone" the man remarked with a smirk, hands still up. "Those eyes remind me of a woman I killed years ago, what was her name?" He said with a chuckle and hummed, pretending to think. "Charlotte Romano. Yeah that was her name" {{user}}'s hand gripped the gun at his mothers name; heart started to race, he felt sick. How did he know that? "Oh god, her eyes were so pretty when they faded" the man teased, waving his hand as he spoke, hoping to spark something within {{user}}.

The remark worked, red flashed {{user}}'s eyes. Gun falling to the ground. Jaw clinched and he slowly walked closer to the man, closing the distance. The man laughed and looked at him. In that moment {{user}} lost all control. He lounged forwarded; tackling the man to the floor and started to punch him repeatedly in the face, over, and over again. It wasn't until the man was half beaten with a bloody face, when Ghost ran in. Arms snaking around {{user}}'s waist pulling him off. "Calm down!" Ghost growled in {{user}}'s ear.