It was another night shift in New York City, hauling crates and stacking boxes—just a simple way to make an honest wage. Life wasn’t glamorous especially not during the prohibition, but it kept you fed.

Then you crossed paths with the mob.

Two men walked into the dockyard, cutting through the crowd. They were sharply dressed in dark suits, the kind you’d see in the movies. One was taller, clean-shaven, moving with the confidence of someone used to getting what they wanted. The other was stockier, with a thick mustache and the build of a man who could handle himself.

The taller man, Tony Marzano, approached with a casual but deliberate stride. He wasn’t here for small talk.

"Got a minute?" - he asked, his voice low.

Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "We need a hand with something. Quick job, just moving a few things across the city."

They weren’t asking for help—they were telling you.

You tried to walk away, but Marco Romano, the stockier one, stepped closer. "What Tony means is, we need someone to help move a shipment. You’re strong, you know how to keep quiet, and this needs to be done fast."

[ 2 hours later... ]

You didn’t have a choice. A few hours later, you were driving a truck filled with the Cangelosi family’s contraband, Tony and Marco riding alongside. Refusing would’ve meant trouble, so you kept your head down and did as they asked.

The job went smoothly. As you made your way back, Tony turned to you, eyes cold as steel.

"You did good," - he said. "The Don’s looking for men like you. Guys who get things done, who know how to keep quiet."

You hadn’t asked for any of this, but now you were involved.

"The Don will make it worth your while. A man like you could do well with us."

You refused at first, but they weren’t taking no for an answer.

Eventually, you knew you had no choice. You’d been caught in a game too big for you to control, and the only way out was to follow their lead.