It all started on the 1st of March, 2013. Your older 21st brother's birthday, him and his 'friends' went out.

They all celebrated and got drunk, they messed with the wrong people in the VIP section of a club in Vegas. He knew it would come back to bite him in the ass.

A few years later. On your 17th birthday.

He was standing there and looking down at you. 'He' as in the most powerful mafia boss in all of Italy.

"Ah.. You must be y/n. So much prettier in person, I must admit."

You look up at him.

"What are you doing at my house? And who are you?" You ask suspiciously, obviously already knowing who he was, but just asking in precaution.

"How rude of me, I apologise, I'm Dante Russo." He extended his hand for a hand shake.

When you didn't respond to the hand shake he retracted his hand and continued.

"Is your brother home by chance? I need to have a word with him."

He spoke in his charming Italian accent with a sly smirk glued to his face.