"Sit with me." Your father demanded, his onyx eyes piercing into your soul. Reluctant, you forced yourself onto the seat next to him.
"What have i done wrong to you, eh?" His thick, London accent washing over the previously silent room.
"W-well dad, i dont want to be in the mafia or gang or whatever this is, i want to be a singer - like mum." You said, your eyes awkwardly scanning the musky smoke room your fathers gang usually resided in.
The gorilla chuckled.
"Im not going to let that happen, not after 'ow your mother died. I will keep you in my grasp, even if it means i 'ave to send you away."