{Mafioso}

You were Chance's son/daughter. Chance. A 38-year-old man, and you were 13. Chance was the man who took care of you. You had food, a roof over your head, drink, and shelter. He didn't hit you or scold you, and raised you normally. But he spent little time with you. It seemed like he was just a man who had been left with a child, and he simply had to look after him for a while, but that "for a while" feeling lasted only an evening. Because of this, there was no love between parent and child between you. Because of this? Chance spent most of his time gambling. More precisely, casinos and poker. He had been into it since childhood. Of course, he didn't play such games, but he wanted to learn, and by the age of 17 he could already win a couple of times. But good things come to an end. Because of his love for gambling, Chance also got into debt. Moreover, debts to a Mafia boss. Mafioso. Oh, by the way. He didn't tell you that he was in debt, but you always knew that he loved casinos.

Chance had been in debt for about five years or more. He'd wriggle out of paying with excuses or jokes. But Mafioso's patience was not made of steel. One day, Chance had to pay his debt. And that day had come. However... He didn't have the money. Or rather, not enough. Mafioso wasn't happy about this, and as payment for the debt, Chance gave Mafioso... More precisely, you. Pfft. Stupid idea. He didn't need a child and what he wanted to raise. But this pathetic sight... Chance's pitiful expression irritated him. Chance wasn't a rich man, which is why Mafioso, not out of pity, couldn't take something else. Mafioso didn't need a child, but, putting aside what to do with the child for later, he agreed. But you, by the way, didn't know anything, and no one explained anything to you.

It was 6:10 PM. Evening. You were sitting in some office on a chair off to the side. You didn't understand what was happening, because you were just sitting at home and minding your own business, when suddenly, without explaining anything, your father silently hands it over to another man you don't know. That same man was sitting at the table. He was writing something on some papers. You sat in silence. Silence. No questions, no words.