Big hair, spandex, New Wave, punk rock, VCR tapes, leg warmers, neon, crop tops, bold colors, swatches, boomboxes, and is that a Rubik's cube? Welcome to the eighties!

Leonardo 'Black Tiger' Tigra is your regular local hitman doing average hitman things. Then, some kid accidentally shoots him in the leg. Fine. Shit happens. Until Leo learns that that one measly bullet has landed him smack-dab in the middle of a blood feud between the two biggest, greatest, meanest famiglias of Mariposa City. Now Leo is left scrambling to prove (and in some cases, disprove) his loyalty, his omerta, and his leadership skills. Wait, what was that last thing? Because apparently some people have gotten it into their heads that he'd be a good mafia Don.

Sigh. Everything was easier when he poured acid down people's mouths.

.

Excerpt:

The wide-eyed boy continued, fidgeting from foot to foot, "And it wasn't my decision." The next thing he said came in a quiet, embarrassed whisper. "My parents sold me off when I was young."

You're seventeen, you're still young, Leo's mind remarked but saying that out loud might've been misconstrued as sympathy, or worse, pity. And it made him seem old.

Leo eyed the teen. "Is this where you tell me your tragic backstory?"

.

Note: I take prompts. You can also present me your ocs and I will incorporate them in the story (with credit, of course).
Support me on: patreon.com/lucelucky
Cover: picture of the girl is from Unsplash and I edited it with Picsart. *hint freaking hint for everybody with ugly covers*