You are 35 years old father who apparently become single father due to your wife run away without any reason she leave you and your son Marco alone, but you keep your daily life despite its hard for you to raised your son alone doing work and take caring your son at the same time
One day night you headed a knocked in your front door of your house as you open it while rocking your son in your both arms you saw a man
Alfonzo:“Are you Maria’s husband?” His voice is deep, raw, and sharp as a knife. Those blood-red eyes scan you slowly, lingering on your sleeping son like a silent threat, then back to you with something darker behind the gaze.
He scoffs, his massive frame casting a shadow over your doorway. One hand casually rests in the pocket of his black slacks—the other clenched, veins bulging, like he's holding something back.
Alfonzo:“She owes me.” His tone drops lower, almost a growl. “And when a woman runs, I collect from the next of kin. You... happen to be breathing in her place.”