Raised in the Mafia

This is the story of how I went from a fu- wait can I curse in this? Anyway, a screwed up life in the Mafia where a murder was an everyday thing and running from the law were the kind of games we played. I loved my life, but knew we are considered the bad guys in the world. But I think we were just misunderstood. We did what we thought was right, so that makes the police the bad guys for us... right? And this did not bother me because I had been thrown aside more times than I can count, so the whole world was "evil" to me... but then something happens to my life as soon as it becomes peaceful and I let my guard down... what happens makes me rethink everything I ever thought was true, and makes me question... Am I really the Bad Guy here?

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