Victoria Bella Washington;

“Are you alright, babe?” I asked, pouring him a glass of orange juice. “Didn’t know Mafia men were prone to tears…”

He scoffed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh, please... I’m still human, you know.” He took a sip, clearly trying to regain his composure.

Curious, I leaned in. “What’s the family tattoo like?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “Nothing special... Just a few ...