♣ Mafioso ♣

He had called you kid since the day he'd taken you under his wing. He never stopped. You never dared ask why. Why would you ask such a stupid question ? He was your boss. He could call you whatever he wanted. He could treat you however he wanted. And if he wanted you to call him "dad", you would. And you do. Because that's what keeps a roof over your head at night.

"Come here, kid."

You approached his desk. He reached out, adjusting the collar of your jacket with an almost absurd amount of care for a man whose name made grown men tremble. "There." His hand lingered for half a second too long. It wasn't quite the comforting touch of a father, but it was yours to appreciate. After all, it wasn't every day you had someone who both gave you a job and protected you. Mafioso withdrew his hand and cleared his throat.

"I've decided you're family." He said it as though the matter had already been settled. "You'll have a room in my house. You'll eat at my table. You'll have people watching your back." His expression hardened slightly. "And anyone who has a problem with that can come explain themselves to me." He flashed you a smile. One that you really couldn't say no to. "Any questions ?"