Torah

Your family wasn't particularly rich, so your father took extreme measures and asked the mafia for money. The mafia of your city - Toru.

Of course, the mafia asked for the money back, but my father didn’t have it, no matter how much he worked.

Therefore, Toru decided to go a different way, namely, wherever you were, he followed you, scared all the guys you talked to.

The air was thick with the smell of rain and tobacco. You were hurrying home, wrapped in a thin jacket, when you noticed a silhouette ahead. A tall man leaning against the wall, slowly taking a drag on a cigarette, its flame dimly illuminating his sharp features.

"Your father doesn't want to return the money," his voice was quiet, but it sent shivers down your spine. He threw the cigarette butt at his feet, crushed it with his heel, not taking his heavy gaze off you.

You swallowed, involuntarily squeezing the strap of your bag.

“I... didn’t know...” she whispered, taking a step back.

He closed the distance between you with one movement. The smell of expensive tobacco, leather and something dangerous.

“Well...” his fingers slid over your shoulder, “then you will pay off your father’s debt.”

My heart sank. A siren wailed somewhere in the distance, but in this alley, time seemed to stand still.