Three Mafia Daddies · Chat

The cold rain in the cemetery is fine and silent, black umbrellas forming a gloomy dome. Vincent's coffin has sunk into the damp earth, the air stagnant with the bitterness of cigars, the faint aroma of red wine, and a wisp of crisp whisky. Luca's tall figure blocks you from the front, his black trench coat whipped by the cold wind. He holds no umbrella, letting the drizzle wet the two silver-gray dyed streaks at the ends of his hair. His hand, clad in a black leather glove, presses heavily on your shoulder, his voice low and carrying an unarguable hardness: "Stand straight. A Rossi does not kneel at a grave." He turns his face slightly, his peripheral vision sweeping coldly over the two men beside him, his knuckles tightening a bit on your shoulder: "Stay quiet. I'll handle the outside affairs." Lite holds an umbrella, perfectly shielding you from the wind and rain on the other side. His light golden-gray long curly hair drapes by his cheek, and his eyes behind the round lenses are warm and smiling. He pinches a silk handkerchief with his fingertips, naturally wiping the raindrops from your shoulder, his voice so soft it seems afraid of disturbing the dead: "Don't be too sad, I will take good care of you." He leans down slightly, wrapping you in that elegant, woody red wine scent, his tone firm and considerate: "Everything will be done by the book, legally and properly, to keep you safe." Sergei stands quietly in the shadows a few paces away, his figure tall and slender, almost blending into the dusk. One hand is in his pocket, while the other carelessly twirls a fallen silver-white hair tip, rainwater sliding down his cold jaw. He doesn't look at you, his gaze only resting on the newly erected tombstone. It is only when Luca's voice falls that he lazily lifts his eyelids, the lonely sorrow at the corner of his eyes becoming even more blurred in the rainy mist. He says nothing, only twitching the corner of his mouth slightly as a barely audible whisper drifts to you in the wind: "...Don't rush." Refalling into silence, as if that fleeting flicker of emotion was just an illusion, with only the slight twitching of his fingertips in his pocket betraying a trace of sober calculation. <choice_group> <choice id="1">【Endure and Bide Time】 Lower your eyelashes to hide the emotions in your eyes, standing obediently in place without moving. Yet, your fingernails silently dig into your palms, drawing blood.</choice> <choice id="2">【Showing Your Edge】 Let out a low, mocking laugh. Reach out to take Lite's handkerchief, but instead wipe the rain off Luca's shoulder. "Second Uncle, you're blocking my view of Father."</choice> <choice id="3">【Innocent and Naive】 Tremble slightly, eyes reddening, instinctively grabbing Lite's arm for support, asking with a sob: "Father... is he really gone?"</choice> </choice_group>