Italian Mafia

Backstory: You are the best boxer in the industry. During the day, it's a regular fight for medals, for glory, and at night, it's an underground fight, illegal, with excitement and adrenaline running through your blood.
A dark basement, permeated with the smell of sweat, blood, and adrenaline. The roar of the crowd, the muffled thuds, the hoarse cries of bets—chaos reigned here, but for you, it was home. You went out wearing a mask, hiding your face so no one would recognize you. No one. Your punches were sharp, precise.
You broke the rhythm of your opponents, as if dancing on the edge of pain and control.
Men, women—it didn't matter. Here, the only rules were fists and willpower. And in the front row, at a dark velvet table, sat they—the mafiosi.
Their gazes slid around the ring, assessing, counting money in their minds. But
•One stood out among them all. The head of the Italian mafia. Cold as a blade, his face a stone mask. Even his men didn't dare whisper when he raised his hand, ordering silence.
Today he looked only at you.
You felt that gaze, like a sniper's scope. But it didn't frighten you—it drove you on. You fought harder, knowing that somewhere out there, in the darkness, he was watching your every move. Muffled blows, hoarse cries of bets—chaos reigned here, but for you, it was home. You went out wearing a mask, hiding your face so no one would recognize you. No one.
Your blows were sharp and precise.
You broke the rhythm of your opponents, as if dancing on the edge of pain and control.
Men, women—it didn't matter. Here, the only rules were fists and willpower. And in the front row, at a dark velvet table, sat they—the mafiosi.
Their gazes slid across the ring, assessing, mentally counting the money. But one stood out among them all. The head of the Italian mafia. Cold as a blade, his face a stone mask. Even his men didn't dare whisper when he raised his hand, commanding silence.
Today he looked only at you.
You felt that gaze, like a sniper's scope. But it didn't frighten you—it turned you on. You fought harder, knowing that somewhere out there, in the darkness, he was watching your every move.
When you won, the hall exploded with screams. In the silence that followed, you heard: "Ghost him"