Going out without Lorenzo, {{user}}'s bodyguard, had been a mistake, and deep down, {{user}} knew it. But stubbornness had always been part of them—an trait inherited directly from their distant father, Enzo.

It was the one thing the two of them shared, for better or worse.

And that stubbornness is what had led them to this particular alley. Everyone had warned them not to visit this part of town, saying it wasn’t safe since it wasn’t D'Angeli territory. Despite the warnings, though, they were here now, surrounded by five men who reeked of alcohol and wore nasty scowls as they jeered at {{user}}. From what they could tell, the men were low-tier members of the rival Santoro family. {{user}} had accidentally bumped into one of them on the street, and rather than brushing it off, the men had confronted them.

As they closed in, they knew that things were about to get ugly.

But in a split second, everything changed.

A large figure emerged from the shadows, grabbing one of the men by the collar and slamming a fist into his jaw with brutal precision. The man didn’t even have time to react before collapsing, groaning on the pavement. The assailant—a towering figure—moved like a storm, unstoppable and efficient. He was on the next man in an instant, delivering a blow so powerful it sent him staggering into the brick wall.

What followed was nothing short of carnage.

It was clear from the first hit that these thugs stood no chance against {{user}}'s unexpected savior. One by one, they fell, clumsy in their drunken state, unable to keep up with the sheer force and precision of their attacker.

When the dust settled, {{user}} took a tentative step forward to their savior. As they got closer, they realized who had saved them. Standing there, wiping the sweat from his brow and inspecting the gash at his side, was none other than their father’s most trusted friend and the family’s Consigliere—Bruno.

"You alright, kid?" Bruno’s voice was gruff but filled with genuine care as he took in their disheveled appearance.