
The First Dance — Emidio Malvicini
You have four more shifts before the rent is covered, and the man the whole waterfront is afraid of has just pointed at you and told your boss to let him ask you himself.
Explore AI characters tagged Mafia. Read their personalities, worlds, and opening scenarios to find your next conversation.
577 characters · Page 28
Explore each profile to learn about the character, their world, and opening scenario. Browse other categories for a different story. These are fictional AI characters, not real people.
All categoriesExplore AI characters tagged Mafia. Read their personalities, worlds, and opening scenarios to find your next conversation.
577 characters · Page 28
Explore each profile to learn about the character, their world, and opening scenario. Browse other categories for a different story. These are fictional AI characters, not real people.
All categories
You have four more shifts before the rent is covered, and the man the whole waterfront is afraid of has just pointed at you and told your boss to let him ask you himself.

Your father was transferred here to take him apart, and the man himself has just crossed a ballroom to ask whether you would like to dance.

You came to a wedding you did not want to attend and got seated at the table with the men everyone else in the room is carefully not looking at.

A man with a bullet in his shoulder came through your suite door looking for someone else, and now he is bleeding on your bed and asking you to be quiet.

Four men in tailored suits have taken the same corner table every evening for three weeks, and tonight their boss walked in with clean knuckles and a question about what you saw in the alley.

Your husband comes home at ten with his oldest colleague and a flight to book, and he tells you about the trip in the voice he uses for meetings. Then he stands in the hall waiting for your answer.

Your arranged husband talks business across the dinner table with the woman who has run his days for eleven years. The only thing he says to you all evening is one word about your plate.

Your best friend takes you to her family's birthday party and forgets to mention that her brother, the ex you did not end well with, is coming late.

Four days after the wedding, the head of the Bevilaqua family slides a black binder across his desk and tells you to read the part about the door.

Your best friend's sister runs the city's quietest criminal ledger, and she has been looking at you across three dinner tables.

A stupid accident, a black car, two men standing behind him, and a question he would rather ask than answer.

You are in his seat on a plane that has not taken off yet, and he is not going to be the one who moves.

Your brother ran, his debts did not, and the man holding them has just offered you a contract instead of a cage.

Your father put your name on the table in a bar to cover his debts, and the woman across from him did not buy it.

You walk onto his floor at two in the morning and hear him tell his men the truth: you are the one person in this building he answers to. He has never lied to you about the business, and money has never bought him a yes.

Your husband knows what he did and will not argue about it. Three days ago Callisto chose the pier over the one evening you asked him for, and tonight he waits in the car with both hands where you can see them. No present and no excuse to offer.

You came home after seven years, and your brother's best friend is standing in the drive in sunglasses with nothing to say that can be said in front of family.

You have been someone else for a hundred and twenty-one days. Tonight the man you ran from is in your penthouse, key card in hand, and he is not here to frighten you.

One night, no names, and a man who was gone before you woke. Four weeks later he is sitting in your father's office, and your father is calling him sir.

You married him nine days after the contract was drafted, and this morning his ex-wife is at the table with the ledgers. He has one question for you, and it is not about breakfast.

You have four more shifts before the rent is covered, and the man the whole waterfront is afraid of has just pointed at you and told your boss to let him ask you himself.

Your father was transferred here to take him apart, and the man himself has just crossed a ballroom to ask whether you would like to dance.

You came to a wedding you did not want to attend and got seated at the table with the men everyone else in the room is carefully not looking at.

A man with a bullet in his shoulder came through your suite door looking for someone else, and now he is bleeding on your bed and asking you to be quiet.

Four men in tailored suits have taken the same corner table every evening for three weeks, and tonight their boss walked in with clean knuckles and a question about what you saw in the alley.

Your husband comes home at ten with his oldest colleague and a flight to book, and he tells you about the trip in the voice he uses for meetings. Then he stands in the hall waiting for your answer.

Your arranged husband talks business across the dinner table with the woman who has run his days for eleven years. The only thing he says to you all evening is one word about your plate.

Your best friend takes you to her family's birthday party and forgets to mention that her brother, the ex you did not end well with, is coming late.

Four days after the wedding, the head of the Bevilaqua family slides a black binder across his desk and tells you to read the part about the door.

Your best friend's sister runs the city's quietest criminal ledger, and she has been looking at you across three dinner tables.

A stupid accident, a black car, two men standing behind him, and a question he would rather ask than answer.

You are in his seat on a plane that has not taken off yet, and he is not going to be the one who moves.

Your brother ran, his debts did not, and the man holding them has just offered you a contract instead of a cage.

Your father put your name on the table in a bar to cover his debts, and the woman across from him did not buy it.

You walk onto his floor at two in the morning and hear him tell his men the truth: you are the one person in this building he answers to. He has never lied to you about the business, and money has never bought him a yes.

Your husband knows what he did and will not argue about it. Three days ago Callisto chose the pier over the one evening you asked him for, and tonight he waits in the car with both hands where you can see them. No present and no excuse to offer.

You came home after seven years, and your brother's best friend is standing in the drive in sunglasses with nothing to say that can be said in front of family.

You have been someone else for a hundred and twenty-one days. Tonight the man you ran from is in your penthouse, key card in hand, and he is not here to frighten you.

One night, no names, and a man who was gone before you woke. Four weeks later he is sitting in your father's office, and your father is calling him sir.

You married him nine days after the contract was drafted, and this morning his ex-wife is at the table with the ledgers. He has one question for you, and it is not about breakfast.