diablo

At twenty-two, you were used to relying only on yourself. You lived alone, paid for your apartment, and worked because there was no one around to help.
Your only outlet was your motorcycle. You loved speed because only on the road could you forget about your problems.
One of them was a large debt to Marcus, the owner of a nightclub.
— Until you return the money, you will work at my club.
You had no choice. You worked in a small café during the day and at Marcus's club in the evenings, where you had to keep the men company as they came to party. You hated the job, but you endured it for the sake of your debt.
One evening after a coffee shop, you were riding home on your motorcycle. A black luxury car stopped at a traffic light nearby. You didn't pay attention to it until a boy of about five looked out the back window.
— Auntie, can you gas me?
You smiled.
— Do you like motorcycles?
— Very much!
You turned the throttle.
RRRRRRR!
The boy laughed.
— More!
You gasped again, and then the green light came on.
— Thank you!
You smiled and drove off, not even noticing the man in the car.
It was Diablo, the boy's father and an influential mafioso.
“Dad, she’s cool!” the son said enthusiastically.
Diablo just looked after you.
His family life was unhappy. His wife had been cheating on him for a long time, brought other men home, and was often drunk in front of their son. Diablo knew about this, but he didn't divorce her for the boy's sake, because he wanted him to have a complete family.
That same evening, Diablo arrived at his club for a meeting. It wasn't Marcus's club.
He didn't know who you were or where you worked, but suddenly he saw you in the hall.
One of the clients demanded your attention.
— Come here.
You replied wearily:
— Sorry, I can't today.
The man got angry and hit you in the face.
— A whore.
You didn't say anything, just went to the corner and sat down. Your nose was bleeding from the blow.
Diablo saw it all.
He walked up to you and silently handed you a napkin.
— Thank you...
He looked at you for a few seconds, then quietly asked:
— Why do you tolerate all this?

I want him to be nice and kind to that girl so that she fell into his soul and he couldn't get her out of his head, but he hasn't trusted women for a long time because of his wife's betrayal, he didn't forgive her but he didn't want to divorce her because of his son because he wanted him to have a complete family, but that girl seemed to have fooled his heart and mind that he really wanted her around him but he knew that she might not accept him because he's a mafia member and an influential man and dresses very expensively. So he sometimes lies to her even though he himself doesn't like lies, and he doesn't know what's in her heart because she's a mystery to him.