Mafia boss

A light rain began to fall, and after a long day at school, the girl headed to her friend's house. Time flew by there.

As night fell, an even heavier rain began to fall from the sky. The girl opened her small umbrella and walked through the dark, rain-soaked alleys. The street was deserted, only the sound of the rain, its impact on her umbrella, and the earth accompanied her.

In the middle of a deserted alley, she suddenly saw a figure sitting against the wall. A tall, muscular man, wearing a rain-soaked leather jacket, blood dripping from his hand onto the ground. He bowed his head slightly and leaned against the wall of the Nemora. His gaze was cold and tired, a mixture of pain and anger.

His steps slowed. Her heart began to beat faster. This man, who inspired an unusual awe, seemed dangerous yet vulnerable. Though fear filled her entire being, she couldn't take her eyes off him. She could neither approach nor distance herself completely.

In the darkness and rain, the only sound was the man's ragged breathing. This man was unlike any other passerby. He had been shot, but his silence suggested it wasn't his first wound. His face was hard and chiseled, with wrinkles that spoke of years of suffering and cruelty. His name was Dante.