It was nothing serious, some men were trying to molest her. I just walked past them, not interfering in their business. Since I wouldn't want to blow off my identity as a former mafia lord.

Now back to the present,

I know the maids will be wondering for the past seven years that I always come home drunk every June 10, cried heavily with a broken heart, hit my head on the hardened wall, slit my wrists and allow myself to bleed for good five hours, after then; will take my bath and eat some crazy meals. “Pepper sauce catfish.” Well, it's none of their business.

I always sneaked to...