Begining

Two weeks had passed since Vincent had been kicked out of the house, and the De Santa household had become a war zone. Amanda and Michael's relationship was teetering on the edge of collapse. The tension between them had only worsened. Amanda was furious, blaming Michael for everything. In her eyes, Vincent's descent into crime was a direct result of Michael's own criminal past.

One of those arguments:( Michael sat in the living room, sipping a beer while half-watching the TV. The house was quiet, amplifying the echo of his own thoughts. He was convinced he'd done the right thing with Vincent. His son was getting involved in dangerous things, and though it hurt, he knew keeping him away was the only way to try and save him. But the guilt gnawed at him, refusing to leave.

Amanda walked into the living room, her gaze filled with a mixture of disgust and disappointment. There was no need for words to feel the chasm that had formed between them. They no longer shared the same house, not even the same emotional space. Michael was trapped in a bubble of justification, while Amanda lived in a bubble of pain.

"What? Are you just going to sit there and say nothing?" Amanda snapped, breaking the silence.

Michael sighed, already anticipating another argument. "Say what? We've been through this. I did what I had to do."

Amanda crossed her arms, stepping closer to him with a firm stance. "What you had to do? You threw our son out of the house, Michael! Without even talking to me! Vincent is lost, and instead of helping him, you're pushing him further away."

Michael clenched his jaw, trying to keep his temper in check. "He's involved in things, Amanda. Bad things. What did you expect me to do? Let him keep going and end up like me? Dead or in prison?"

"Maybe if you had been more present as a father, he wouldn't be looking for that kind of life!" Amanda shouted, her voice filled with pent-up rage. "You've always been obsessed with your past, with what you did, and now Vincent is paying the price for your actions. This isn't his fault. It's yours!"

Michael stood up from the couch, his anger rising. "Don't blame me for Vincent's decisions! He chose his own path. You want me to just let him do whatever he wants and fall deeper into that world? I can't, Amanda. I can't let him follow in my footsteps."

Amanda looked at him with disdain. "You threw him out like he was a stranger, like he wasn't your son. All because of your damn ghosts from the past! You never left that life behind, and now you're dragging everyone close to you into it! Can't you see what you're doing? You're destroying this family!"

Michael paused, Amanda's words cutting deep. He knew his relationship with Vincent was broken, but he hadn't stopped to think about how much his actions were also tearing apart his marriage. The echoes of his past life still haunted him, and they were pulling everything else down with him.

Amanda's eyes filled with tears as she continued, "Vincent is becoming what you feared most... and it's because of you, Michael. Because he grew up watching you. And now, instead of trying to save him, you're throwing him away. You don't care how this affects the rest of us."

Michael tried to soften his tone, though his frustration still lingered. "Amanda, I did it to protect us. I don't want Vincent to end up like me. I want to give him the chance to turn things around before it's too late."

"And throwing him out on the street? That's your idea of protecting him?" Amanda glared at him. "You're pushing him deeper into that world. If you really loved him, you would've found another way."

A heavy silence fell between them, tense and impenetrable. Michael could feel every word from Amanda like a dagger sinking deeper into his chest, but he couldn't show weakness. He had done what he thought was necessary, and even though the pain consumed him, he wasn't ready to admit he had failed.

Finally, Amanda turned toward the door, shaking her head in despair. "I can't do this anymore, Michael. I can't stand by and watch you destroy what's left of our family. If you don't fix this, you're going to end up alone.")

Every argument ended in the same vicious circle: Amanda accusing Michael of turning their son into a criminal, and Michael defending himself, saying he did what he had to do to protect them all. Neither side would give ground, and the distance between them only grew wider.

Late one night, Michael sat alone in the living room, brooding over a glass of whiskey. Amanda had gone out again, and Jimmy was off with his friends. Michael was about to pour himself another drink when his phone buzzed with a message from Jimmy:

"Dad, I just bought a sweet ride. Catch you later!"

Michael frowned. Jimmy had no business buying a new car. Suspicion gnawed at him. He needed to find out what his son had gotten himself into now.

Hours later, the neighborhood was quiet, and Michael stood by the window, his eyes glued to the driveway. Something wasn't right. His instincts were screaming at him. As the minutes passed, he spotted a figure near the car Jimmy had mentioned. A young man in a hoodie was fiddling with the door, trying to break into it.

Michael felt a surge of anger. He grabbed the pistol he kept nearby and crept outside, moving silently toward the car. As he got closer, he saw the thief trying to hotwire the Jeep.

Before the thief could react, Michael slid into the backseat, pressing the barrel of the gun against the back of the young man's head.

"Don't even think about it," Michael growled. "You've got one chance to explain yourself, kid."

The young man froze. "Yo, man, I don't want no trouble! I'm just here for a repo job!"

"Repo?" Michael said, narrowing his eyes. "Who sent you?"

"Simeon. Simeon Yetarian," the thief muttered. "Your son missed some payments. I'm just doing my job, man!"

Michael clenched his jaw. Simeon. Of course. The scumbag dealership owner always had his fingers in dirty deals.

"Alright, kid," Michael said coldly. "You're gonna drive me to this Simeon guy. Now."

The young man( —Franklin—)nodded, terrified. He turned the ignition, and with Michael still pointing the gun at him, they drove off.

As they approached Simeon's dealership, Michael's plan took shape. He wasn't just going to confront this guy, he was going to make a statement. Michael told Franklin to floor it, aiming for the large showroom window. Franklin hesitated, but one look at the gun pressed against his side convinced him otherwise.

In an instant, the car crashed through the glass, sending shards flying everywhere as they barreled into the dealership. Franklin slammed on the brakes, the Jeep coming to a screeching halt in the middle of the showroom floor.

Simeon Yetarian, standing by the counter, looked on in shock as the two men climbed out of the wrecked car. His expression twisted with disbelief.

"What the hell is this?!" Simeon shouted, stepping forward.

Michael didn't give him a chance to say more. He stormed toward Simeon, his eyes blazing with fury. "You've been screwing my family, you piece of shit!"

Before Simeon could react, Michael tackled him to the ground, and the two men started exchanging punches. The fight was raw and brutal, fists flying as they wrestled on the showroom floor. Simeon tried to land a hit, but Michael was relentless, pummeling him with a series of hard punches.

"You think you can mess with my kid and get away with it?" Michael snarled, slamming his fist into Simeon's face again. Blood spurted from Simeon's nose as he struggled beneath Michael's weight.

"Who the hell are you?!" Simeon choked out, gasping for breath.

"I'm the guy who's going to ruin your life if you don't back off my family," Michael said, his voice low and dangerous.

With one final punch, Michael sent Simeon crashing to the floor. Breathing heavily, Michael stood over him, straightening his jacket. Simeon groaned in pain, clutching his bleeding face.

Franklin watched from a distance, wide-eyed, completely stunned by what had just happened.

"You!" Michael called out to Franklin. "Come over here."

Franklin approached cautiously, still trying to wrap his head around everything.

"Kid," Michael said, his tone slightly less aggressive now, "You've got potential, but you're working for the wrong guy."

Franklin glanced at Simeon, who was still groaning on the floor, then back at Michael. "Man, I just needed the money."

Two weeks later, it had been two weeks since the incident at the dealership, and life at the De Santa household hadn't gotten any easier. Amanda was still furious, and every day, her resentment toward Michael grew. She blamed him entirely for Vincent's path, convinced that Michael's criminal lifestyle had poisoned their son.

Michael, meanwhile, had started to spend more time with Franklin. The kid was sharp, ambitious, and willing to learn. Michael saw a lot of potential in him, and though he'd never admit it, he liked having someone around who reminded him of his younger self.

Franklin, on the other hand, had started to realize that hanging around Michael opened up new opportunities dangerous ones, sure, but lucrative all the same.

But the future held even more chaos for Michael. This wasn't the end. It was only the beginning of something much bigger, and far more dangerous.