When I visit my girlfriend's house during the Christmas holidays, her cousin, Antonio Esposito, humiliates me in front of everyone because of a scar on the back of my hand.

"This scar looks like a remnant of the crossfire with the mafia! Bianca, why did you think that bringing an ex-convict home was a good idea?"

The entire Romano family stares at me in a mixture of horror and shock. My girlfriend, Bianco Romano, even shakes my hand off while staring at me in disgust.

Not only does Antonio flip the table, but he also calls over a few hooligans in an attempt to take me to the local police station.

"We must teach scumbags like him a lesson!" he declares.

After that, Antonio and the hooligans strip off my jacket and strap me to the tree in the courtyard. They then attempt to force me to admit that I'm working for the mafia.

I can only gnash my teeth together stubbornly, refusing to yield no matter what.

What they don't know is that the scar is a medal from my time in a peacekeeping war as a soldier!

I stood at Bianca Romano's doorstep, holding two boxes of gifts that weren't exactly expensive.

My palms were sweaty.

This was my first time visiting Bianca's parents.

Bianca opened the door, her eyes sweeping over the gift bags in my hands. She didn't say anything but just curled her lip slightly.

The room inside was full of people. Besides Bianca's parents, there was also a man in a floral shirt. That was her cousin, Antonio Esposito.

I greeted them with a smile. "Mr. Romano, Mrs. Romano, Antonio, Merry Christmas."

Bianca's father, Carlo Romano, grunted without even looking at me properly.

Her mother, Daniela Ferrara, went straight to the point. "Bianca tells me you're a security guard?"

I nodded and set the gifts down. "I work as a consultant for a security firm, where I'm in charge of conducting safety training."

"Sounds fancy, but isn't that just being a security guard?" Antonio said, lounging with his legs crossed, spitting watermelon seeds onto the floor as he ate.

Instead of arguing, I just smiled awkwardly. For Bianca, I was willing to endure this small slight. After all, my post-military job didn't exactly sound prestigious.

But I had my principles. Those past honors belonged to the country; they weren't personal trophies for me to flaunt.

The food was served, and the atmosphere was tense.

Trying to appear eager, I stood up to pour wine for Mr. Romano. As I moved, my sleeve rode up, exposing the winding, hideous scar on the back of my hand under the light.

It was the aftermath of a through-and-through injury. The flesh had curled back like an ugly centipede as it healed.

Antonio suddenly hurled his wine glass onto the floor.

Shards of glass scattered everywhere, startling everyone at the table.

Antonio pointed at my hand, his eyes as wide as saucers. "I knew there was something off about this guy! Look at his hand!"

Everyone's gaze fell on the back of my hand.

Bianca shrank back with fright, while Mrs. Romano's hand flew up to her mouth.

"Oh my, w-what is that?"

Antonio abruptly stood up and stomped one foot onto the chair.

"That's a mark of the mafia. A friend of mine who used to be in the mafia told me only members who've spilled blood earn a scar like that."

Spittle flying, he pointed at my nose and cursed, "Enzo Moretti, you'd better come clean—have you done time before? Did you get that scar in a mob fight?"

I frowned and pulled my sleeve down to cover the scar.

"Antonio, you've misunderstood. This is an old injury from before."

"Misunderstood, my ass!" Antonio yelled. "What normal person gets an injury like that? That's clearly from a machete! Bianca, are you trying to drive your parents to their deaths by bringing an ex-con home?"

Bianca went pale instantly. When she looked at me, her eyes were brimming with both terror and disgust.

"Enzo, tell me the truth—what exactly did you do for a living before?"

"I told you I used to be a soldier," I replied, looking straight back at her.

"As if a soldier could get a scar like that," Antonio interrupted with a cold laugh. "I bet you were a mercenary, the kind that gets paid to kill people."

Furious, Mr. Romano pointed a trembling finger at the door. "Leave! Get out of my house! Our family doesn't welcome shady people like you!"

I took a deep breath, suppressing the anger rising within me. "Mr. Romano, I have a clean record. This injury was—"

"Shut up!" Bianca suddenly screamed, violently shaking off my hand as if I were something filthy. "Enzo, I'm so disappointed in you. I can't believe you lied to me!"

Bianca stood up and hid behind Antonio. She looked at me as though I were someone she didn't know—or even someone she hated.

A chill settled in my chest. Was this really the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with? Just because of Antonio's instigation, she wasn't even going to give me a chance to explain myself?

Seeing this, Antonio became even more smug. He pulled out his phone with the air of a man about to interrogate a criminal.

"You think you can leave? It's not that easy! There have been several robberies near the neighborhood recently, and the suspect's distinguishing feature is a scar on his hand."

He grinned maliciously, blocking the doorway. "I think that person is you! You're not leaving this house until you come clean!"

The air in the room felt like it had frozen solid.

Antonio's words hit like a thunderclap, scaring Mr. and Mrs. Romano out of their wits.

"He's a robber?" Mrs. Romano screamed. Then, she grabbed a plate from the table and hurled it at me. "Good grief! I knew there was no way Bianca would fall for some security guard! I bet you planned all this to seize the chance to clear your name, didn't you?"

The plate struck my shoulder, splattering food all over me. Instead of dodging, I just stared intently at Bianca.

"Do you believe I'm a robber too?" I asked.

Bianca was still hiding behind Antonio. She was too afraid to even look up.

"Enzo, you can never really know someone. Antonio runs in a lot of circles, so he's a good judge of character," she replied in a trembling voice, each word cutting deep. "Just go. I'm already showing you more mercy than you deserve by not calling the police."

I found it utterly absurd that three years of a relationship could be destroyed by a single rumor spread by some local thug.

I turned around to grab my coat.

"Who told you to move?" Antonio slammed his hand down on my coat, a twisted grin spreading across his face.

"Since you're here, don't be in such a hurry to leave. Think of it as me doing society a favor. If I let you run off today, who knows how many more people you'll go on to ruin?"

He pulled out his phone as he spoke and dialed a number.

"Hey, Fabio? Bring a few of the guys to my aunt's place. That's right—the very same wanted criminal."

I turned around and stared coldly at Antonio.

"Antonio, defamation is a crime. I'd advise you to stop while you still can."

"Oh, you're threatening me?" Antonio hung up the phone and grabbed the empty wine bottle on the table. "I've seen plenty of scum like you. You never learn until it's too late. Once my boys get here, we'll see how tough you really are."

"Antonio, quit wasting your breath on him," Mr. Romano chimed in from the side. "Tie him up first! Don't let him run off and hurt someone!"

Mrs. Romano ran to the kitchen and came back clutching a rolling pin.

The family that had been all smiles moments ago now looked like they were ready for a blood feud.

I watched it happen, and with it went the last warm feeling in my heart.

"Fine, I won't leave." I pulled out a chair and sat down. "I'll wait right here. Let's see who you've called and who the police end up arresting."

My calm demeanor seemed to shake Antonio for a second. But he quickly covered it up and pointed at me as he turned to Bianca. "See that? Textbook sociopath. He's as cool as a cucumber because he's done this a thousand times."

Bianca bit her lip, her eyes full of contempt.

"Enzo, enough with the act. If you're really innocent, why won't you show us your military discharge papers?"

"Yeah! Show us!" Antonio jeered from the sidelines.

My military discharge papers were classified as top secret. They had secret codes on them that no civilian would understand. Besides, I wasn't authorized to just show them to anyone.

I stayed silent.

But to them, my silence was as good as a confession.

"Nothing to say now, huh?" Antonio weighed the bottle in his hand, a cruel smirk spreading across his face. "Pretty soon, we're going to strip you down and see what tattoos you're hiding. The mafia loves their crosses and their saints. I bet you're no different."

In less than ten minutes, the roar of motorcycles echoed from beyond the yard.

The front door flew open with a kick, and five thugs with dyed hair and tattooed sleeves barged in.

"Boss, where's the guy?"

The leader, a heavyset guy with a fleshy face, was holding a steel pipe.

Antonio perked up immediately and pointed at me, shouting, "That's him! This guy's a wanted robber. He just tried to jump my uncle!"

"You've got some nerve pulling that crap on the boss' turf!"

The fat guy spat on the ground as his crew circled around me.

Bianca let out a frightened scream and shrank back against the wall.

Mr. and Mrs. Romano also kept their distance, terrified of getting blood on themselves.

I stood up and rolled my wrists. I was hoping to avoid a fight, but it was pretty clear I wouldn't be able to walk out of this house without teaching them a lesson.

"Last warning," I said coldly as I scanned the ragtag group in front of me. "Leave now, while you still can."

Antonio burst out laughing like I'd just told the joke of the century.

"You hear that, boys? He's still running his mouth when he's about to get wrecked. Get him! Make sure he can never walk again!"

When the fat guy swung the steel pipe at my head, he left himself so wide open that it was pathetic. I sidestepped easily, then grabbed his wrist and twisted it.

It snapped with an audible crack. He let out a gut-wrenching howl as the steel pipe clattered to the floor.

I drove my foot into the back of his knees, and he hit the ground with a heavy thud. The remaining four thugs hesitated for a moment, then rushed at me all at once.

There was no such thing as form in a fight like this.

I spent my time in the peacekeeping force facing down heavily armed terrorists, so going up against these thugs was like shooting fish in a barrel.

I pulled my punches, using only enough force to either dislocate a joint or strike a pressure point.

In less than half a minute, all five thugs were on the ground, groaning in pain.

The room fell into dead silence, and the Romano family went from looking at me with disgust to staring at me in fear.

Antonio, in particular, turned pale with fear, nearly dropping the bottle in his hand.

"Y-you're definitely trained!" he stammered, backing away. "No ordinary person fights like that! You have to be a professional killer!"

Bianca pointed at me, trembling. "Enzo, you're terrifying. Y-you actually know how to fight."

I brushed the dust off my clothes and stared coldly at Antonio. "Shall we continue?"

Antonio's eyes flickered, then he suddenly shouted, "Bianca, watch out! He's going to take you hostage!"

Instinctively, I turned to look at Bianca. In that split second, Antonio yanked a bottle of pepper spray from his pocket and sprayed it straight into my eyes.

The burning liquid instantly flooded my eyes, and the searing pain left me blind, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face.

I grunted in pain, clutching my eyes.

"Quick! Pin him down! He can't see!" Antonio shouted excitedly.

Seeing this, the thugs on the ground gritted their teeth against the pain and sprang at me savagely.

No man could take on that many people alone—and especially not when blind.

Someone grabbed me tightly from behind, while another kicked hard at the back of my knees. Blows rained down on me like hailstones.

I fought back on instinct, kicking two of them off. But soon, more piled on, pinning me to the ground.

"Get the rope! Hurry!" Mr. Romano's voice rang out, dripping with vengeful satisfaction.

I felt rough hemp rope biting into my flesh as my hands were yanked behind my back and bound tight.

"Drag this animal outside!" Antonio kicked me hard in the ribs, and I sucked in a sharp breath from the pain.

They dragged me across the floor and into the yard like a dead dog. It was snowing heavily outside, so the ground beneath me was freezing cold.

"Strip him! Let him cool off!" Antonio ordered viciously.

They roughly tore off my down jacket, leaving me in nothing but a thin shirt. The frigid wind cut into my skin like knives.

But the chill I felt in my heart was even colder than the blizzard raging around me.

I could hear Bianca saying not far away, "Antonio, don't kill him."

"Relax, I know what I'm doing." Antonio's breath came in heavy pants, his voice laced with twisted excitement. "Scum like him needs to learn a lesson the hard way."

They forcibly pinned me against the ancient locust tree in the yard, wrapping rope around me until I was trussed up like a pig for roasting.