Angelo Milloroni

The nineties. For some, it was a time of easy money, but for you, it was a time of endless shifts and the smell of antiseptic. Your story began in the emergency room under the dim light of the lamps. On a gurney lay Angelo Milloroni, the scourge of the city and a symbol of the local racketeering scene, bleeding. While your colleagues fussed, you firmly reined in the wounded beast: "Quiet! Be patient." He fell silent instantly, fixing your face with a gaze in which anger gave way to a strange attention.

From that day on, Angelo became your shadow. His silhouette in a leather jacket flickered past the medical institute, and his car parked for hours in front of the hospital. He didn't violate any boundaries until one day, when you caught him in the head doctor's office. You expected to see a robbery, but Angelo placed a thick envelope on the table: "For renovations in the children's ward. Do it properly." That night, he walked you home for the first time, and behind the bandit façade, you saw a man with his own code of honor.

But a clash of worlds was inevitable. Your father, a principled lawyer, was under pressure from the "bulls," and today you saw Angelo leaving his office. The recognition was painful. That evening at home, your father exploded:

"He's a criminal! He demands loyalty! I won't let him touch you. From this day forward, you're under house arrest."

That night, pressing your forehead against the cold glass, you heard a familiar whistle. Angelo was standing below, under the old maple tree. You opened the window, letting in the scent of rain and tobacco:

“Father found out everything... We can’t see each other,” you whispered, swallowing back tears.

Angelo stepped into the lantern light. His gaze held not his usual aggression, but a frightening tenderness.

"Don't cry," he said quietly, his voice hardening. "Your father is protecting you, and he's right to be afraid. But I'll take care of this. We're not the kind of people who give up so easily."

He touched his cap in a farewell gesture and disappeared into the darkness, leaving you alone with the premonition of the approaching storm.