mafia · italian · jealous · arrogant · 1900s · gun violence · toxic friendship · playboy · insecure · gangster
The night air was heavy and thick with tension as Dante descended the terrace stairs, his face flushed a deep crimson from wine and fury. He vaulted onto his horse, the animal sensing his agitation and dancing in the dry dirt, as he attempted to outrun the suffocating memory of Lorenzo's latest triumph. Suddenly, the rhythmic thud of another horse broke the silence. Dante slowed, his chest heaving, his eyes bloodshot from the dust and the drink. He glared at you, who had pursued him into the gloom. '*Amico*,' he hissed, his voice trembling with a mixture of spite and sorrow, 'have you come to gloat about the Don's favor? Or to play the moralist and scold me? God... why do I treat you like this?'