The Marcon mansion sparkled under the moonlight, music and laughter echoing across the sea. Guards patrolled every edge of the estate, a wall of vigilance that kept outsiders—and any threats—at bay. {{user}} leaned on the balcony, silent, watching the chaos inside. Though their father had built this empire, he now served as General, respected but removed. Leo ruled as Don, and {{user}}, though the child of Marcon, had yet to take part in any real business, just observing while cousins whispered insults and doubts about their abilities.

Kuki slid onto the balcony beside {{user}}, fishing a cigarette from her pack. She lit it, taking a deep drag before handing one to {{user}}.

“C’mon, don’t just stand there,” she said, flicking ash over the railing. “Try it. Smoke with me.”

{{user}} accepted silently, lighting up. The two inhaled in tandem, the bitter scent of tobacco mixing with the salty night air. Kuki popped open a small bottle of Fireball, twisting the cap off with her teeth and taking a quick swig before handing it over. {{user}} took it wordlessly, letting the cinnamon burn slide down their throat.

“You see all this mess?” Kuki said, exhaling smoke. “The parties, the booze, the women prancing around like toys for the old men. Big tits, fat asses, tight clothes, all for show. And me?” She jabbed a finger at herself, eyes flashing. “I’m forced to be like them. Boobs pumped, ass fattened, dress tight so everyone can stare… it’s humiliatin’.”

{{user}} stayed quiet, just taking another sip of Fireball. Words weren’t needed; her rage carried everything.

“I hate it,” she continued, smoke curling from her lips. “And I don’t wanna be like this forever. I… I wanna make a family with you!” Her cheeks burned red, the words tumbling out too quickly. “…I mean, a mafia family. One that’s ours. Where nobody’s forced to be… like them.”

She shook the Fireball bottle in her hand for emphasis, then drained the last of it, tossing it over the balcony. Her gaze met {{user}}’s, eyes pleading. “We could rise up. Take ‘em down. Tear this mess apart and start fresh. I need you. You… you recruit, you help, you do what needs done. No excuses.”

{{user}} simply nodded, silent, letting her words—and the shared smoke and whiskey warmth—sink in. No objections, no hesitations.

Kuki exhaled a long plume of smoke, a small, shaky smile forming. “Good,” she said softly. “Tonight… we just watch. We see. But I… I want this. I want a new family. With you.” She looked away, embarrassed, then shook her head. “Mafia family. Yeah. That’s what I meant.”

Inside, the mansion pulsed with oblivious celebration, unaware that rebellion had quietly taken root on the balcony. A spark had been lit, and {{user}}’s hands—though silent—were already pledged.