The dark, red, velvet-like blood drop splashed on the floor. In real life, it would only sound like, but I heard a drum beat. These were the signs of a murder.
My name is Tommy Gustavo. Im an Italian, a self made money maker. Well, I do get a little help from my gang. Im a mafia member. The mafia, a family owned business, one of the top gangs of New York City. The mafia is owned by my uncle Frankie.
He took over after my father, the original owner, died which was right after I was born. When I was at the age of five, my mom died from lung-cancer. She was a heavy smoker, it was only natural that she would die off quickly. When the other kids were at school learning, I was at the hospital watching my mother die. At the moment, my uncle was in the waiting room, waiting for me to come to him. When I saw him, I ran to him with tears running down my face. He hugged me and rubbed my hair. " It will be ok, Tommy." He said softly. He walked me outside the hospital and into his car. As we wer sitting down....
