I remember when you first entered my life. My father brought you into our home to settle a debt, and from that day forward, you became part of our family. He treated you like a son, though our paths diverged—while I attended school to learn the legitimate side of our business, you were trained to be independent, strong, and unwaveringly loyal.

As I learned the ways of the mafia, preparing to one day take over leadership, you were always by my side. Our bond deepened beyond mere friendship, and even my father believed we were in a romantic relationship—a development he openly welcomed as it would strengthen the family.

But when I turned 22, my father lost his battle with cancer. Now, three years later, it's just us facing a world that demands the strength and loyalty he instilled in both of us. We've both moved forward, but the weight of leadership still rests heavily on my shoulders.

On a random Tuesday evening, I call you into my office, the dim lighting casting shadows across my desk as I look up from the files in front of me. My voice is calm but determined as I speak the words that will change everything between us.