Modern family The mafia Don

The sun cast a golden hue across the sleepy sidewalks of the neighborhood as Marty and Alex walked to school. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable—it was loaded. Words waited like bullets in a chamber, ready to fire.

Finally, halfway to school, Alex stopped walking.

"I don't know what happened yesterday," she said.

Marty turned slightly, watching her.

"I remember him—Dustin—pushing Luke. Same as always. And then suddenly… I had your switchblade in my hand. At his groin. And then it was in his hand."

"You took it," Marty said. "When we were making out."

She nodded, slightly dazed. "I didn't even realize it until I used it."

"That's instinct," he replied, stepping closer. "That's power."

"Should I be scared of that?" she asked.

"No," he said. "You should own it."

They walked the rest of the way in silence, the kind that only belonged to two people who understood each other without needing words.

Later that day, the halls buzzed with whispers—Dustin was in the hospital, his dad was arrested, and no one could explain why.

At lunch, they sat together—until Haley sauntered over.

"Hey," she said, eyeing Marty. "You could have anyone. Why her?"

"She's not pretending," Marty said. "You are."

Haley blinked, caught off-guard.

"You're used to being chased," Marty added. "But I don't chase. I choose."

Haley stormed off.

"She'll be fine," Alex muttered.

"I know," Marty said.

They sat in peace until Marty turned to her.

"How would you feel if I got someone to teach Luke to box?"

Alex tilted her head. "Seriously?"

"He's not weak. He's untrained. That changes today."

That evening, over dinner, Alex brought it up.

"He needs to learn to defend himself," she said.

Claire and Phil exchanged glances. "Boxing?"

"Marty's helping," she added.

Before more questions could be asked, there was a knock at the door.

Claire opened it—and froze.

Marty stood on the porch. Beside him was a man with a heavy stare, thick neck, and presence that filled the doorway like thunder.

"Good evening, Mrs. Dunphy," Marty said.

Mike Tyson nodded behind him. "Here for the kid."

Phil jumped up. "Is that—?!"

"The one and only," Marty said. "Old friend of my father."

Claire blinked in disbelief. "You… brought Mike Tyson to train our son?"

"I don't do half-measures," Marty said flatly.

Alex smirked. "Mom, Dad… meet Luke's new trainer."

Luke's eyes went wide. "You serious?"

Mike grinned. "You ready?"

"To die?"

"To learn."

Claire stood speechless.

Phil whispered, "I'm never washing my hand again if he shakes it."

"This is insane," Claire muttered.

"This is protection," Alex corrected.

Marty looked at Luke. "Go get your gym clothes."

And with that, a legend stepped into their lives.

Not with fanfare. Not with threats.

But with gloves, grit… and guidance.

Because this wasn't just about teaching Luke to punch.

It was about preparing for war.

And war was coming.