A/N: I'm not giving Furio his Brooklyn accent in this fic. I'm NEVER going to give him that accent. NEVER!
The moment Viola Cadaverini walked out into the streets from her small apartment, she caught wiff of the scent of something familair: cheap dirty fuel. And the one who was giving off this smell...was Furio Tigre. He was standing by a broken fire hydrant with his pink moped parked against it. He was staring down at the floor while smoking a long cigarette in his mouth. It seemed he had been waiting for her. Viola smiled softly and giggled to herself.
"Good morning...Don Tigre." the black-haired beauty whispered with gentle breath. Furio glanced up and growled at her. The rumbling that emitted from deep in his throat sent chills up Viola's spine. She thought it was all so incredibly sexy. Viola blushed, trying to think of something to say. "Just get on the bike, bitch! We're getting breakfast..."
Nodding, Viola watched as Furio climbed onto the bike and took his seat before getting on as well. She wrapped her arms around his well-toned stomach and pressed her face against his back as the red-skinned monster of a man revved up his vehicle and sped down the street. 'Don Tigre...is so wonderful to me...' Viola thought to herself happily.
Furio, however, was thinking something different. 'Damn fuckin' bitch! It's all her fuckin' fault that I'm stuck working as Bruto Cadaverini's slave boy! Why did she have to be his goddamn grandaughter? Goddammit!' Furio was so upset, his eyes were flashing as red as his own skin. Why was his skin so red anyway? Furio just shook those thoughts out of his head.
At the restaurant they went to (it was really just a run-down little diner called 'MacDuun's'), Furio felt his rage and hatred towards Viola growing by the minute. She was just sitting across the table from him...smiling...as the pea soup she ordered got cold. 'Why is she staring at me? Crazy ass bitch! Goddamn her! Goddamn her and her whole family!' Furio thought furiously.
Suddenly, Viola finally spoke. "You know...Don Tigre...I bet you would make a great father to our children..." If Furio had been drinking coffee at the time, he would have spat it out on the floor in shock. All he could do, though, was sit there with wide eyes and an gaping mouth. This...this couldn't be true...could it?
Smiling still, Viola placed a hand on her stomach and exclaimed, "Don Tigre...I'm pregnant! And you're the father...obviously!"
Furio felt like he was going to die. So he did.