Sept 1947, Miami, FL

Her dark eyes moved up to the rear view mirror, a feminine hand reaching to adjust the tiny mechanism to get a better view of herself before licking at the crimson smudge on her perfect white teeth. Her eyes were full of excitement and yet the facade she put on gave away nothing of the nerves that tore at the fibers of her chest. She should've brought Jake with her to do this, he would've calmed her nerves. He was the only thing lately that made her feel better in a world full of lies and mayhem, especially with the Don being so on edge lately. She'd tried a million times to better understand what Vincent was so consumed with, but he always gave her the same answer, his accent Spaniard thick, "Patience, little one. I'll make sure that when the time is right you get brought into the thick of what I'm working on. I assure you that everything is fine."

She growled at her reflection in the mirror and swiped her tongue across her teeth again, readjusting the mirror and slipping out into the early morning coolness. Abigail grabbed her thick black coat and slipped into it, her rest of her body adorned in a tight silky black dress and the only color showing belonged to her lips and high heals. She wanted to look nice for her new guest and hoped like hell that their reintroduction to one another would be a comfort to each of them and not something awkward and sterile. She slipped the long silver key in the hole and locked her new baby, the Hotchkiss Artois not due to be offered to the public for another six months, but it paid to own the guy who makes them, or it did for her. She moved quickly from the small parking structure, people in business suits moving with intent as they raced to catch the only means of transportation to nearby cities and with a few stops downtown.

The sounds and smells of the train station reminded her that the future was upon them and America was exactly what her step-father always said it was - the land of dreams. There wasn't a place you couldn't pull yourself out of, a person you couldn't be or nuthin' one couldn't do if they simply put their mind to it in the land of opportunity and freedom. She picked up her pace a little, her red heels clicking on the concrete as a few stopped to look around at her with inquisition. Her long ravens hair was in soft curls, none ever being able to guess that she was the right hand of the most dangerous crime syndicate on the east coast, including old Frankie. He was getting old and starting to let things slide, but the Don was in his prime and stayed at the top of his game namely because of the people he surrounded himself with.

She stopped in front of the station informational booth and spoke quickly to the blushing young boy inside, "What train number is coming from New York City, love?"

He swallowed hard and looked at his paper, his little pale hand starting to shake a little. "It's uh.. it's gonna be on platform, uh, three."

She winked and thanked him before moving quickly to the platform where her little sister would soon emerge from her old world and enter into a new - the one Abby chose many, many years ago. She adjusted the small pistol at her back just beneath her coat and leaned against a cool metal pole, her eyes shifting to watch for the oncoming train and a renewed relationship she needed so desperately.

Captain Mark Evens navigated his converted fishing schooner, The Caribbean Star, from the hidden cove just a mile or two south of the small Cuban town of Gibara, once out into the open waters, he turned the wheel over and pointed the bow of the boat in the direction of the Florida Keys. In the wake of a storm that had blown through the area just a few days before, the sea was now relatively calm, which he was thankful for, since his holds and every other available space were near to overloaded with contraband and would of made for a rough voyage home had the sea been anything other then calm. Captain Evens took a final bearing check from the compass, looked out the windows of the wheelhouse to make sure his crew had lashed and tied down what needed to be, then sat back and lit a smoke, now that they were underway, he was now able to return his attention to the stranger who had entered his wheelhouse prior to the last of the contraband being brought aboard.

Antonino purposely waited for the last of the crates to be dropped down into the belly of the Schooner before opening the door to the wheelhouse and walking in, the look on the Captains face as he turned to see who had walked in without permission was one of annoyance, Antonino raised a hand and with a stern look stopped the uttering of expletives that was on the tip of the Captains tongue, with a solemn and simple pronouncement," I work for Vincent DeMarco",. Though the lights of the wheelhouse were dim, Antonino could almost see the Captains face turn a pasty white but at least he had sense enough to keep his mouth shut and return to his work, as Antonino moved to a chair and sat down, remaining silent the whole time the Captain was getting his boat underway.

Antonino reached into the inside breastpocket of his jacket and pulled out a pack of Lucky Strikes and lit a cigarette shortly after the Captain sat back and lit up one of his own. He could see by the continued silence, now that the Captain had a chance to sit back and relax and return his attention to his unannounced guest, Antonino could see the Captain was slowly becoming increasingly unnerved and fitchity by his presence and lack of sound as they both sat and smoked in silence. Antonino put out his cigarette then cleared his throat and watched with a slight smirk as the Boat Captain nearly jump out of his skin, now hat he had the mans attention, Antonio's tone of voice was low and matter-of-fact,

"Captain Evens, call your second in charge up here if you would please, I'll explain everything once he arrives", though the Captain gave him a puzzled look, Antonino was content to sit back without further explanation and watched as the Captain stuck his head out the door and called for one of the deckhands to go fetch Diego, after a few moments the man called Diego walked in and stood near his Captain, looking between the both of them with curiosity. Antonino unbuttoned his jacket then crossed his legs, then reached up and tilted his hat up on his forehead giving off the appearance that this was going to be a casual conversation,

"Captain Evens...",, Antonino began, his voice mimicking his casual appearance,
"Don DeMarco has been looking over last months books and compared them to your last months manifest...there seems to have be a slight discrepancy between what was shipped from our suppliers in Cuba and what was received by our people in Key West, it goes without saying Don DeMarco was'int happy...", as the color again drained from the Captains face, his features contorted in a growing look of panic and Antonio's tone of voice slowly deepened with menace as he continued to layout the Captains stupidity,

"By Don DeMarco's account, he figures you stole roughly one crate for every five crates of rum shipped, one crate of cigars stolen for every eight crates shipped and there's also three fresh young ladies not accounted for from the last shipment, tell me Captain, if I were to look down in the crews quarters, would I find them, or have they done had their way with the girls and tossed them overboard?" Antonino calmly held the Captains gaze and watched as the man did his best to muster up some bravado,"So what if you got proof, I bring in more money per shipment then any other boat out here on DeMarco's payroll, so I took a few crates, so what, its not like the other Captains don't do it, what you gonna do?,fire me?, I put the word out and there wont be a Captain one that will sail for DeMarco", replied the Captain with a growing tone of arrogance and swagger.

Antonino noted the disrespect in the Captains tone of voice and not using the title of Don, and he about shot him there and then, but he forced himself to control his temper, but his tone and demeanor changed within a blink of an eye, his features turned ice cold and the tone of his voice dropped murderously deep and reverberated off the walls, even rattling a few of the loose window panes,"You signed an agreement with DON DeMarco, and no where in that agreement did it state it was ok to help yourself to HIS property...your not going to be fired Captain Evens...your going to be retired, consider what you stole as severance pay, not that its going to be of any use to you", Antonio's lefthand moved like a flash of lightening and pulled the Colt.45 from the shoulder holster, the look of shock still registered on the Captains face as two .45 slugs slammed into his chest, knocking him backwards into the side windows of the wheelhouse then sliding down the wall to the floor in a shower of glass.

Antonino turn his attention to Diego even before the light faded from the Captian's now saucer sized eyes, Diego looked on the verge of pissing his pants, but sighed with relief as Antonino re-holstered the colt and spoke again, his voice once again casual,"Congratulations on your promotion Captain Diego, Don DeMarco sends you his best regards and hopes this becomes a prosperous arrangement for you as well as himself....fuck up like evens did, and I'll be calling on you, understand?, now where's the guest quarters, I could use a nap", Antonino lit another cigarette and got to his feet, walked to the door, but stopped short of exiting, then turned back to the new Captain,"Toss that piece of shit over the side, whatever he still has that was stolen is yours...keep it as a reminder DON DeMarco don't take kindly to being stolen from".

The train was not the fastest way across the country anymore, but for those that didn't want to live through the rattling hells in the sky that were the airplanes, it was the best. The ride was smooth, reasonably fast and far more peaceful. With the grasslands spanning across everywhere, and the feeling of being in a basin from the view of the mountains to the right and to the left, so far into the horizon that their white tips were blue, it was peaceful out here. Sure, there was the occasional whistle and when trains passed on the opposite track, it was a little loud, but the man dressed neatly and slick, with his eyes buried in a book as he sipped some tea, it was the only way to travel in style.

The two men, bulky and muscular, with fierce tattoos of dragons and tigers across what was exposed of their bodies, along with the bulky weapons poorly concealed in their clothing, thought differently. But none of them said a word. They had all seen this apparently peaceful monk move when he was in action. No man drawing a gun would see him fast enough before he had a dart in his eye, or his hand chopped off by the blades hidden in his staff. Even without his weapons he was deadly. The Shaolin monks were legendary fighters, and the skills that they had were seen by some Americans as magical. Nerve strikes that could paralyze a man for hours, or heal him from sicknesses. Punches delivered from less than an inch away that could shatter skulls and punch through ribcages.

Yes, the Enforcers sent to accompany and 'Guard' the Deputy Mountain Master knew that he did not need their help to keep out of trouble.

A younger version of the Monk moved through the eating car, sitting alongside his Brother. He had been visiting Las Vegas and was now headed back to Boston for his studies. He had decided to accompany his older brother on his way to the East Coast. The Monk had humbly agreed at his father's request.

Sitting down, munching happily on a scone, he turned to his brother," Why are you going to Miami, Brother? I know that it won't be to enjoy the sunshine and beaches, even though it should be. Did father send you on some business?"

"That is none of your concern, little brother," The Monk said, not looking away from his book," And when in the presence of those outside our family, you will refer to The Mountain Master by his Title."

The younger man shook his head," You take life too seriously, brother. You should lighten up, or I will find better company."

"Please do," Li's voice was deadpan, and never once during the exchange did he look up from his book, or show any interest in extending the conversation. The younger Li was used to this behavior by his brother and with a quick laugh he stood and left the three once more.

By this time, one of the Enforcers found his tongue," I do not understand why we will have to negotiate with the Gaijjin," He growled," We have the greater numbers, we have the advantage. We could simply force them out, like we did in the East."

"And what do you know of politics and business, my eager friend?" The Monk finally looked up from his book, Das Kapital by Karl Marx, changing the language of the conversation from Cantonese to English, his odd eastern accent mixing musically with a British lilt," Once we have killed the Good Don and all of his confederates, what then? Who will want to do business with a bunch of bloodthirsty triads then?"

The two men looked at him, confused. Li sighed and placed down his book," Allow me to explain. We have no foothold in the Eastern part of the country. The Triads are not well known or feared in this area like they are in the West. To make an ambitious move like the Mountain Master has seen fit, we will need contacts and loyalty with our countrymen in this area. We will need more of our countrymen in this area as well. The Italian pigs," He growled that word," Are our finest offer, despite their barbarism, as they have been enforcing their law in this half of the country for the better part of the last fifty years," He leaned back in his seat, taking a sip of tea," Their Don is feared and respected. But if their Don was to come to Los Angeles, for instance, he would be just another immigrant. Like we are here," He smiled thinly," For us to gain any foothold in this part of the country, we must pay our respect to the lords of it. There are the Irish, who hold most of Boston and Atlanta, along with most of New Orleans, and there are the Italians, who hold anything else. We will present our offer. Cheap Labor from our countrymen, weapons from Japan, opium and alcohol from the bootleggers in Taiwan and Hong Kong. Casinos filled with the beautiful flowers from the East, our women. And all we would ask is a cut in all the profits, as well as a say in how investments are made. As such, we will be respected and feared as associates of the Italian Don and left alone as such until we have built our own reputation, have our... foot in the door, as the Americans say."

The two men still looked lost.

"Should the Don turn down our offer, we will bring it to their Irish Competition, who will be far more accommodating, and see us as a way to grow in power and influence, being able to expand with our Triad troops into places that have long been held with an iron fist by the Italians. Either way, we have our place in the East of the United States," He picked his book back up and smiled," We win both ways."

Both men nodded, but still looked confused. He had simplified it as much as he had cared to for the brutes to understand, and now his patience with them had worn thin," Never mind, brothers. You have your duties, I have mine. We shall remain in our posts doing what the Mountain Master sees fit for us to do in our time. He sees the larger picture," The two men nodded, understanding. They were brutes, enforcers, remnants of the Boxer rebellion that knew how to fight like few in the world, but had little mind for tactics. His duties were in making sure that they had the money to have guns, and put bullets in their guns.

He looked at his pocket-watch and smiled," Ah, only twenty minutes until our stop."

Concetta had been sitting on the train for what seemed like ages, even sleeping the night in the personal cabin she had purchased for herself. The trains where the best way to travel the country but it was not particularly fast and only marginally comfortable with so many people in one spot. She could have bought a luxury cabin in which she would have been alone and comfortable, a separate bed and wash basin to keep her face clean and a mirror to keep her hair in place, but she was not one to spend money needlessly. Her childhood d had been difficult. They had been hungry often and the only thing that had kept her warm at night in the Depression had been her sister. It was a life that made frivolities seem stupid, even wasteful, and even after becoming employed by Mr. Frank Concetta had not spent much of her paycheck on herself but instead in helping her parents. She had enabled them to afford a nicer apartment in Little Italy, one where bugs did not cover the floor at night and the wind did not slip in the cracks to chill their flesh.

As she prepared for her train to arrive Concetta made her way to the powder room where she checked her hair, smoothing the waves and curls back into place of her up-do. Her dress was a bright blue cotton number that flair from the waist to her knees she her stockings could be seen slipping into her practical blue shoes. She was not sure what she would be expected to dress like in her new job but figured that was suitable enough, even if it was not very fancy.

As the train began to drag and pull Concetta knew it was stopping and quickly made her way to where her bags waited. Two suitcases sat just above her seat, not particularly full but containing all of her personal belongings. As she reached a man stepped forward and spoke softly.

“Ma’am may I get those for you?”

Concetta turned her head and saw the tall, dark man and nodded. “Why yes please.” Her voice was crisp and somewhat chipper, a thing one would expect from such a sharp face, smooth as ivory with a soft tan and sharp cheek bones about soft red lips. The man grabbed both bags and set them onto a small cart and followed Concetta as she stepped out and looked about.

“Looking for family?”

She nodded. “My sister.” Her voice held only a soft New York accent, no Italian audible at the moment. It was a thing she had learned to hide when necessary, cover up her heritage to keep safe from hatred. As Concetta looked about she scanned the crowd before seeing her, Abigail leaned against a wall, and suddenly she was running and letting her Italian heritage fly.

“Abigail mia luce! Ti ho perso mia sorella! Mio caro!”

Abby bit at her bottom lips softly until it started to bleed, a soft growl before pulling a small white napkin from her purse and blotting at it. The sound of the train stopping nearly stopped her heart. What would Concetta think? Would she welcome Abby back into her life? It'd been too damn long. She blotted her lip once more and shoved the napkin in her purse, her fingers running through her hair as nerve tore at her tummy.

Seeing her sister as she first exited the train, Abby couldn't help me start to move quickly to her, her position in the syndicate forgotten and for a moment she was a child again, just wanting to embrace her best friend. Concetta's words freed her from worry and she smiled as she walked faster, pulling her sister into a tight hug. "Oh how I have waited for this moment for longer than you can imagine."

Concetta held her sister's embrace a while before stepping back and dabbing her eyes with a worn cotton hankerchief. "It has been far too long. How have you been? You look so fabulous, trying to out do me I see."

Abby pulled out her own small white napkin and dabbed at her eyes. "It has and I'm wonderful. Mr. DeMarco is so great to work for. I think you're going to love him. Come.. let's get in the car and stop weeping here in public like two little old ladies." She nodded for the busman to assist them to the car and slipped him a $50 after he loaded them up. Abby slipped into the drivers seat and waited for her sister to get in. "Are you hungry or need anything before we head to the mansion?"

"I dont know about you my dear but I am not a bit old." Concetta winked and followed Abby out to the parking lot where she was stopped dumb struck as the man loaded her now very meager bag. "Mio Dio Abigail what a car is this?" Her accent began to slip once again but she didnt particularly care at the moment. "Where did you get such a thing?" Concetta opened the passenger side dore and opened it to find the inside just as prestine. It was so lovely she did not even want to sit; she felt so unkept next to it.

"I see I have some things to get use to." With that Concetta sat down and gently shut her door, only them noticing the wholes and fraying of her gloves and quickly hiding them.

"I saved up for it for a few months and bought it in cash. We get paid very well for what we do and as I told you in my letter it isn't the most truthful of occupations, but it pays well and the Don has done a beautiful job of helping me clean up this area. People are more safe with us there than they were before regardless of our methods," Abby spoke as she pulled out into traffic.

"There are some great things about Miami that you're going to love as well. The beaches are beautiful and the night life is incredible, but I found this one street downtown that is near one of the smaller universities and there is a row of book stores like you wouldn't believe. I cannot wait to show it to you." She smiled at her sister and moved onto the large freeway, her car barely making a noise.

Concetta nodded as Abby spoke. She was somewhat aware of what her sister spoke of; no one of Little Italy could grow up not knowing. While their mother had been most adament about her daughter's not getting into crime there had not been much of an option for them. "I suppose he is like his uncle?"

Concetta had to admit she was nervous about begining a high standing job in such a line of work but she was also glad to be out of New York and with her sister where life was a bit more pleasant and of course there were beaches.

Abby shrugged her shoulders, "He is very much like his uncle and yet different. He is smooth and quite refined whereas his uncle was a bit more rough and willing to do things that only befitted himself. I couldn't be happier honestly." The drive was no more than twenty minutes from the train station and as Abigail pulled off the freeway she pointed to the top of the cliff where the large white mansion overlooked the sea. "That's home."

Concetta murmered in italian to herself and looked out at the beautiful home. "It is wonderful Abby. I..." She frowned then and blushed a bit. "I will look so out of place there."

Abby laughed with glee as she pulled up to the front of the large ornate home, her gaze turning to her sister as she shook her head, "No... you would fit in perfectly anywhere that I am present, my sister. Now that you are here I will never let you go again."

Lenny was going to end up being late and he did not like to be late, he had a meeting to get to two pm sharp. As a business man he had but a few rules and being punctual was number one. Looking at the man wearing his cheap knock off tailor made butt cloth even aggravated Lenny further. One's dress was severally important as well it showed a standard.

Ricky spoke to Lenny about trying to change their agreement and demanded terms of arrangements. H went on to refer to Lenny with racial slurs and even spit on the floor in front of him. Last rick even had the balls to say, “ You really believe you can take over the business trade of real estate and then travel companies, your a two bit fuck with a high end family name”.

Standing up and turning to leave Lenny spoke very softly to his number one“ If he does not sign the papers killed him”. “ If he continues to try and change our agreement kill him”. He would not take anything less than what he came for … an airline company.

Actually, Lenny stood there and paused for a moment longer than he had planned. His thought process he had just not only heard or seen not one nor two, but three acts of out right disrespect toward him but to the family.

With a whisper to the man's ear once again, “ Once your done kill him to insure this doesn't happen again”.

His line of work was harsh and to be in his position was being ruthless. And to stay in his position he could afforded nothing else. Tapping the gentlemen on the shoulder Lenny took his leave.

As he made his way to door Lenny fixed his suit with a smooth slide of his hands one over each side followed by a tug on his tie and went to the car. Opening the door he nodded to the driver “ One moment for my companion please sir”, with a quick and practiced response to his suit pocket he retrieved his time piece. Counting the seconds with a click of his tongue, at every minute mark. “ Tap, tap”, the inside of the car echoed with a knock from the window. “ Ah there you, well get in we don't have all day”, Lenny rasped. Being given a two big yellow envelopes, grinned as he nodded to the other taking their seat.

“Driver to Miami please”, yes Lenny had a beautiful car but he did like being noticed in less such was required of him.

Sadly, unlike most rides this one took quite the amount of time. Twirling his thumbs as the time passed he took note of each street sign, and city limit signs. His mind was fixed on a singular topic.

Today was the day he going to literally own his own air line, train company, bus company. For most people this a sad dream but for Lenny he had just created a travel monopoly. It was a fine day to think about what he want to own next?

Antonino finished tying off the Chris Craft Deluxe Roundabout to the dock, then lit a cigarette and stretched his arms out, the waters between Key west and south Miami had been relatively smooth making for a much faster trip then he had anticipated, otherwise he would of stayed longer in the Keys after the Caribbean Star dropped anchor and began unloading her cargo off onto the smaller coast runners that were crewed by DeMarko men. But he felt confident the Schooners new Skipper had no intentions of trying to screw the Don over...not after seeing what happened to the previous Skipper.

Antonino checked his watch and a wistful smile spread on his lips as he walked up the dock to the Marina, stopping first to tip a dockhand a generous tip to keep an eye on his boat, he then made his way inside the Marina and leaned up on the bar, flashed Maggie the bartender his best devilish sideways grin when she turned her green eyes his way. Maggie may of been short, roughly 5"4', but she was curved in all the right places and had a perfect pair of gam's that she loved to show off by wearing high cut white shorts that hugged her perfect round butt as well. He watched as she sashayed her way down the bar towards him, her long wavy blonde her flowing like the waves of the sea, what he liked most about her was that she didn't fall for his tough guy mobster persona, she was flirtatious of course, even more so then when she was doing it simply to get a better tip, but she'd shoot him down everytime he'd made a pass at her, maybe it was the fact that she was playing hard to get that intrigued him the most about her.

Two cups of coffee and forty minutes of flirting later, that left him feeling very much aroused, Antonino left her a three dollar tip and an offer of a weekend trip to Havana. She tilted her head, smiled her lil angelic smile, took the tip with a wink and passed on the trip. Antonino tipped his hat then spun on his heels and headed out the door, hopping into the 47' Mercury Coupe and spinning off toward south Miami beach to Don DeMarko's beachside Mansion.

Antonino checked in at the front gates of the Mansion then drove up the drive and parked, where he was met by the much too serious Bruno, the Dons head of household security, Bruno was old world Sicilian and the perfect example of the phrase,"built like a gorilla", no one other then the Don dared to fuck around with Bruno, not after a right cross from Brunos beefy hand put two smartasses in the Hospital, nearly killing one of them. Antonino nodded a greeting to Bruno who only grunted in return then held out his hands in expectation to which Antonino happily placed his pair of .45´s in,

"The Don up and about yet?" , Antonino inquired in simple fashion, knowing it was a waste of time engaging Bruno in any sort of prolonged conversation.

"He knows your here...your to go to his study, he will met you there" , came Bruno's flat reply, thick with Sicilian accent, Antonino nodded and walked to the front door, entered and turned left down the hallway to the Dons study, once inside, he strode over to the bar and poured himself a half glass of fifty year old single malt scotch, being the Enforcer had its perks, then he sat down on the Corinthian leather couch and waited patiently for the Don to come in.

Vincent lit up a smoke and breathed in deeply, his eyes adjusting to the open window before him. The night had been rough and yet most had lately. He was getting to the age of wishing he'd had a family, a wife... Someone to call his own and yet he simply had his work. Another deep exhale and he flicked the small light out into the afternoon air, his black robe tight around his body.

A soft rapt came at the door and a muffled reminder that Antonino was here to follow up on some trouble they'd been experiencing on the docks. He yelled back that he would be out soon and took a quick shower, dressed in black slacks and a black silk shirt and walked with purpose to his study, a nod to his associate before he sat down in his large leather chair and placed his hands on his desk.

"Do tell me you've good news to share, Antonino."

Antonino studied Don DeMarco as he went to his desk to sit down, there was a subtle differences between when the Don spent the night with a female companion and when he woke up in the morning alone, Antonino's first impression was that the Don had woken up alone and was thankful that he did have a bit of good news to pass along,

"that I do, Don DeMarco...Having confronted Captain Evens on the discrepancy in the books, he could not refute the evidence, even had the balls to get belligerent about his thefts, so I thought it prudent to retire him, fortunately his replacement was present to witness Evens retirement, therefore I see no further problems as far as the shipments go", Antonino said confidentially then paused, His next bit of news wasn't going to be as favorable, although the news concerning whether or not the new assistant District Attorney for Dade County was going to play ball or not had yet to be confirmed, he knew the Don liked to keep on top of things. Antonino took a sip of scotch and decided to wait and let the Don make the inquiry.

Vincent nodded and leaned back, reaching for the coffee that an elderly maid slide in front of him, a soft nod to the woman before taking a sip. He enjoyed having Antonino by his side because the man got shit done. There was no two ways about it... if he needed something taken care of, he'd call Antonino first. He was just grateful that Abigail was gone for the moment because she rode him hard about figuring out what to do about the new DA and yet he was honestly at a loss with how to deal with the goodie-goodie. The younger male had a degree in theology and wouldn't bend the rules for St. Peter himself.

"Good job. I assume you allowed them to keep their share as a welcoming gift?" A smirk touched Vincent's handsome face before he moved on. "Tell me what we're going to do about the new DA. I know you're thinking of it... we've been together to long, old friend."

"Well, not so much as a welcoming gift, but more of a reminder of what happens when one steals from the DeMarco Family," Antonino replied to the Don's first question, as to the second question, he took a deep sigh before continuing. "He's yet to have made a reply to your offer of friendship, and our sources in the DA's office claim he's aspiring for a higher office, using his current position as a springboard to maybe even the Mayor's office, so for now he's playing to the voters, and claiming to make good on his promises of 'dealing with the Criminal elements that have come to Miami' and all that. I suppose the question at the moment would be, do you want me to smack him down, or allow him his brief moment of bravado, then set him up so either he plays along or disgrace him and he loses all credibility with the voters and his job?" Antonino stated while trying to not let the look of astonishment cross his face at the Don's, 'Old Friend' remark, it wasn't like the Don to be so jovial after a night sleeping alone, or had he misread the Dons countenance? Either way he was glad to not having to deal with the Don's fiery short Spanish temper when aggravated.

Vincent felt his blood pressure rise as he stood from his desk, the opening of the door just in front him him causing him to hold his thought for a moment. "We will finish this shortly, Antonino."

Abigail moved inside the room, her facade all business and the woman that moved in next to her took Vincent's breath away, but he simply nodded and looked to his second in command. "What took you so long?"

Concetta felt her nerves rise as they arrived at the large home, a true mansion, which was clearly the peak of elegance. As Abigail made her way in Concetta followed her at a bit of a distance, admiring the shining white marble floor and pristine white walls of the home. It was a style very different from New York but she liked it. It was all very clean and this was one thing she had learned to appreciate when growing up in the filth of poverty. As they slipped into what appeared to be a study with more books than she had ever seen in a private home, Concetta saw the man she knew immediately was the Don and bowed her head in respect. As Abigail stepped forward and gave a brief introduction it took all she had not to reach for the crucifix.

“Don DeMarco, this is my sister Concetta.”

Concetta then raised her head and stepped forward reaching to shake his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” Her voice was steady and managed to hold some strength despite it feminine quality. She then reached over and shook the hand of the Don’s enforcer, wanting to hit everyone.

Tony and Ralph waited in Tony's car, a 1947 Plymouth Deluxe, for their man to walk out of a bar Big Sal had informed them of a man that owed Mr. DeMarco a large amount of money in gambling debt. "...so then I told him 'I'll show ya a lead pipe!'" Tony spoke with his usual quick tongue and erupted in laughter at his own joke. Ralph just rolled his eyes and cracked a small smile, he'd heard the story a thousand times and always humored Tony with a smile laugh or smile. They'd known each for many years, there wasn't a whole lot either of them could say that the other hadn't heard yet. Tony's laughter slowly subdued and he returned to watching the entrance of the bar.

Not long after his joke the door cracked open and a man in a tea-shirt walked out, Ralph glanced at a picture they had taped to the rear view mirror and nodded "Thas' him Tone." Tony nodded silently and got out of the car, as did Ralph. Tony lead the way as they approached the man, as usual Tony did the talking and Ralph looked intimidating. "Heya pal!" he called out to the man. "It's been a while..." The man in the t-shirt with blonde hair's eyes widened at the site of Tony and Ralph. He locked up out of fear of what Ralph might do if he ran. "There's a good guy." Tony smiled wickedly as they approached, to their left was an alley way with a dumpster against the wall "How about we talk somewhere more privet." He tilted his head toward the alley and Ralph grabbed the man's arm and forcefully guided him behind the dumpster. He threw the guy against the wall with an 'umpf' and Tony stood in front of him "You owe Mr. DeMarco a lot of money there boss. And ya know what? Ralphy don't like that. Ralphy don't like guys like you. Ain't that right Ralphy boy?" Ralph cracked his knuckles and nodded, replying with his deep voice. "Thas' right Tony." He nodded slowly. "So, here's howe we make Ralphy like ya, either you pay us the money, or Ralphy goes to town on your face with his knuckle dusters. What'd ya say?" Tony gave a condescending smile as Ralph put his brass knuckles on "I-I got the money man! I just got it from my bookie. H-here!" The man fumbled around with his wallet before stuffing the wad of cash into his hands. Tony smiled and sighed "I'm sorry Ralphy. You don't get to test out your new toys on our friend here." Ralph gave a fake frown and removed the weapons from his hands.The man in the shirt asked if that was all and ran off when he was told it was.

"All in a days work Ralph." Tony smiled as he re-counted the money and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. "Let's get this money to Big Sal." Ralph nodded and they returned to Tony's car.

Once they got to Sal's apartment they were buzzed into his room. "There you fuckers are!" Shouted the short and fat man. "You got that money from the horse better?" Tony nodded and tossed over the money "Yeah. Of course we got it! When was the last time you gave us a job and we didn't do it?" Sal sighed "Remember that time back in the day when I had you shake down that guy who dressed up as a clown?" Tony gave an unimpressed look. "Hey, it ain't my fault that clowns turn Ralphy into a little girl." Ralph smacked Tony in the back of the head "And it won't be my fault if you tell anyone else that." Ralph warned. "Shut up the both of ya. I'm seeing Don DeMarco later today and I'll give him they money. Now scram, I got some broads comin' over here soon." Tony rolled his eyes as he and his large brute of a partner left. "Surprised the old, fat fuck can get anything..." Sal threw an empty box of matches at Tony's head "I head that ya skinny fuck!" Tony and Ralph laughed as they exited the apartment and went back to the car.

The train stopped neatly and on time, which gained the approval of the Monk, as he enjoyed being on time wherever he went. The young bellboy was there to witness such a good mood as he found a $20 bill sitting in his hand as a tip. He was stunned for a moment and before he could shout out a thank-you, the monk had already lightly jumped off the train, and the two burly Triads were there to silently take the bag from his hands and step off the train themselves. The Deputy Mountain Master was quicker than they were and had already moved to where his ride was to arrive. He wished to meet this Don quickly. Word of their arrival had been sent, their meeting place agreed to have been the Don's own mansion on the outskirts of the city.

As he waited, his eyes flickered to the left and to the right, seeing four men eyeing his expensive coat and shoes. He smiled softly. Four men, all looked to have been veterans of the World War that had happened not too long ago. If they were thinking to take what he had by force, they would have another think coming. While he did have his two bodyguards who were well trained in most fighting arts... he really didn't need bodyguards.

"Hey man," One said, moving in close, causing the Monk to wince as the stench of alcohol offended his senses," I have a wife and two kids, with no job to feed them. Spare a couple bucks?"

Yuanjia turned to the man with a cold smile, his refined accent chilling his words further," Forgive me 'man', but I have no intention of sponsoring your morphine addiction. Please, move away. You stink."

The man took a step back, scowling, slipping his hand into his pocket where a knife was obviously hidden. The monk showed no reaction.

"There's no need to be offensive, Chink," The man growled, and his friends moved in closer," But now that you have, please give us your wallet, watch, shoes and coat and I'll fucking move away."

Yuanjia's face froze in icy anger as he heard the derogatory term for his brothers," I warn you, my friend, if your hand, or that of any of your friends comes out with any sort of weapon, you will die here, now. This is your one warning, as I am not a man of second chances."

"Fuck you," The man spat, drawing a bayonet blade and advanced, thrusting it to the Monk's gut. He missed, impossibly, and the man was met with a blinding pain to his nose, and a second blow to the side of his head. He fell to the ground, stunned, his nose broken and ears ringing from the blows from the heads of the Chink's staff. He watched from the ground as another man dropped, clutching at his neck where a spear punch had crushed his throat, killing him in minutes. The other two were felled just as quickly, one with a thin puncture wound to the heard, the other with a similar stab to his neck, severing the spinal cord.

"Please," He whimpered, his words slurred as his body was still stunned from the attack," Don't kill me."

"I won't kill you," The monk said softly, wiping his blade clean on the man's shirt, and then turning to the bodyguards who approached," They will," Standing and sheathing his blades, he barked an order in Cantonese to the men, one of which moved in beside the Monk with his luggage, the other pulled a pistol from inside his coat and shot the man twice in the head.

Their cars arrived. The bodyguard with his luggage would be taking it to their hotel, while the one that was replacing the bullets expended from his revolver would accompany him to the Don's mansion, where word of their arrival had already reached the Patriarch's ears and he would be preparing for their meeting. When the two men stepped into the car, Yuanjia pulled the dart from his sleeve and handed it to the bodyguard, who was confused.

"The Don does not allow stranger to enter his home with weapons being carried," Yuanjia said in the way of an explanation.

"You would work with a man that insults you in such a fashion?"

"While we are in his house we will abide by the Gaijin's rules. It matters little that if we were planning on killing him we would not step in through the front door, and certainly would have little need for weapons. Take it as a lack of respect that his family has, the lack of skill of his guards, and of course, the lack of honor of the members who require outsiders to enter weaponless in a need to feel superior. It is how I see it, anyways," The Monk smiled thinly.

The guard chuckled," Of course. Would you like me to bear your staff as well?"

"I don't want them to think that I came completely unarmed. That would either show a trust in them that I do not have, or suggest trickery to their overly suspicious minds. I would like neither in our future trading partners."

Antonio paused and snapped his head around toward the opening study door, left hand instinctively reaching for the handle of the holstered Colt that wasn't there,"Thanks alot Bruno",he grumbled under his breath then relaxed once he saw who it was and watched as the provocative raven haired vixen that was the Underboss made her way across the room like she owned it, without even as so much as a 'Pardon me' as she barely acknowledged that the Don and he were in the middle of a discussion. Antonio bit his tongue from making in improper retort at the sudden intrusion, the Underboss's provocative looks underscored the fact that she could be a real ball buster at the drop of a hat, a small fact a few of the Dons Capo's learned the hard way after she had heard rumor's of they're displeasure of the Don making her Underboss.

Antonino turned his attention to the young Lady with the Underboss, the resemblance was easy to see, she seemed to have a more softer demeanor about her then her Sister, but then again, if they were blood related... only time would tell, he surmised then stood and politely took the offered hand,"A pleasure to met you" he said politely, then turned back to the Don,"Forgive me Don DeMarco, but you have things to discuss with the Underboss, I´ll take my leave and we can finish our talk....later on, without interruption", Antonino paid respects to the Don, nodded politely to the Ladies then left the study and made his way to the kitchen where after a bit of flirting with the old maid of a cook, he sat down and read the newspaper that was on the table as the cook fixed him some breakfast.

Of course he was the last to arrive to the mansion. He could already see the last few making their way past the gorilla of a man known as Bruno. Lenny knew the drill, well; everyone knew the drill really but he couldn't help self but to think ," Your going to be a old man one day then I would watch out buddy". Handing over his pistol he made his way into the place. After a moment of looking around he begun greeting the maids, and doormen with a polite smile here and there.

Lenny he made sure to give his respects into the Don or the underboss. Although both were short and simple it was the thought and deed that showed his respect. For one yea the Don kinda made him feel uneasy and the underboss well most just think she would rather watch your organs take a spin on a mary go round, then to actually give a shit about most people.

And then without missing a beat he ran into who he could guess was the underboss's sister. The resemblance undeniable, so with a greeting gesture through the tipping of his hat it was time to exit stage left as some would say.

So there was only one thing left to do really, any guy could appreciate good food. He had seen the enforcer just moments ago make is way through kitchens. He figured why not grab a bite to eat and say hello. With a shrug, off Lenny went grinning to ear to ear thinking its shame of how little we each never really talk to each other.

As was customary, Abigail stopped by the front door, handing over her weapon to Bruno who snarled in response. She simply gave him a look of passive resistance and made her way down the hall, her sister moving in sync with her perfectly. The study was down the hall on the left and they stopped just outside the door for a moment while Abby pressed her ear to it and looked at Concetta, "Sounds like he's busy with our enforcer. Let's bust up the party for fun if nothing else."

She rapped lightly on the door and walked in, the Don looking up and inquiring of her timing. Abby smiled at his jostling and pointed toward her sister to make introductions. "Don DeMarco, this is my sister, Concetta. Our timing was due to traffic. It's like someone important died today and everyone decided to drive a respectful speed in honor of him." She moved back to allow Concetta to shake the Don's hand.

He lifted her small fingers to his mouth and placed a kiss on her knuckles. "Pleasure is all mine. Your sister has told me plenty about you. Please have a seat and we'll talk about you coming to join our family, hmm?"

Abigail moved back a little as Antonino made his exist, the man old fashion and seemingly to disapprove of her tactic by this "without interruption" phrasing. She looked to Vincent and waited for him to direct her, Lenny sticking his head in to let everyone know he was on the property. Abby moved toward the door, looking over her shoulder.

"I'm going to find Antonino and Lenny. I need to touch base with them both unless you need me, boss?" She waited for him to dismiss her and then walked languidly to the kitchen, the smell of breakfast filling the air and causing her stomach to grumble. She slid in between Lenny and Antonino, her smile for the cook a warm one.

"Hello, Abby. Good morning, my dear. What can I make you?" She stopped in front of the underboss and reached out to touch her arm.

"I'll have whatever your cooking. Smells wonderful." She looked to Lenny and let her eye brow raise a little. "How are things? All of your businesses running smoothly or do you need muscles over here to set anyone straight?"

She held in the soft laugh that bubbled up at Antonino's reaction to her. The two of them would be leading the way into the future and Vincent wasn't getting any older. To get him on her side she'd have to prove herself she supposed, and she had the perfect idea as to how to go about it.

Antonio paused and looked up from the newspaper as the gentleman came into the kitchen, normally he had little to no direct contact with the Capo's since his orders came direct from the Don himself, so it took him a few seconds to put name to face. Once he did recognized the man, Antonio snapped his fingers and addressed the man,

" Capo Di Lazzaro,Good Morning... I have some information of which might be of interest, my contacts in Havana tell me that American tourism is on the rise, and only expected to grow even more and that many of the local owners of the nightclubs and bordellos are looking for an influx of cash in order to make they're places desirable to visit, its also been said that with the right investor, one or more Casino's could be opened, before the tourist season kicks into full swing and chances are good that an investment could at the least triple in return, I was going to suggest this to the Don...but being a simple gunman such as I am, I think he would be more interested hearing this from a man such as yourself who's knowledgeable in such areas as real estate investment and the like",

Antonino was about to disclose a name of one of his more prominent contacts to Capo Di Lazzaro, when for the second time he was interrupted by the Underboss whom came swaying into the kitchen, exchanged words with the cook, then promptly sit herself between himself and the Capo and proceed to takeover the conversation. Antonino held his tongue, in the old country such things as a woman even being allowed among the Mafioso except for social functions was unheard of or even tolerated, yet here in America they were accepted into the higher echelon of leadership, in fact he had little to no doubt the raven haired vixen sitting next to him had thoughts of being the Boss herself.

Antonino smirked to himself as she spoke, a woman such as her and with her looks was meant for the fulfilling of pleasures of Mafia Bosses, and not for being Bosses, were she ever to try and unseat Don Marco as head of the Family, he'd be all to happy to put two .45 slugs in her rather pleasing curvaceous form. He put the newspaper down and continued to listen as she made her proposal.

The workshop was quiet except for the sound of chalk writing on the blackboard. There were a lot of shelves in the large room, containing materials, tools and finished and unfinished projects. Next to the large workbench Ken Smith were standing in front of his blackboard drawing up his latest idea, hooks he could attach weights to. At the moment he was considering different designs for the hooks, and he would be building every one of the ideas to satisfy his curiosity. The one he was drawing at that moment was inspired by the harpuns being used to catch whales, where barbs shot out once the harpun hit its target, making it impossible for the whales to free themselves from the harpun. Ken Smith wondered just how much weight he could put on that hook before it tore the human meat to shreds. It would be a fun experiment.

Working as a interrogator for the mafia Ken Smith was feared in the underworld, known for his methods and pure sadism that could get hard-boiled mobsters turning away about to throw up. Having made a name for himself in New York he had relocated to Miami when his the boss had told him it would be better if he relocated, and Ken Smith had done as he was told. He always did. He was very loyal to the DeMarco-family, they had given him a comfortable life and plenty of plaything, but his loyalty stopped there. Except for the DeMarcos themselves everybody in the organization were just a potential plaything for Ken Smith, and the expression on the face of a plaything who had witnessed his work and knew exactly what was going to happen was priceless.

When he had decided on how the hook would be designed he went over to the shelf with the materials, picking out what he needed and carrying it over to the workbench before getting the tools he needed. The only sound that could be heard was those Ken Smith were making as he worked on the hook, and that was the way he preferred it. He never listened to music when he worked, just the news when he was having his dinner, the rest of the day his house was shrouded in silence. Ken Smith enjoyed the silence, and when he worked he forbade anybody to talk, cough or anything else that made any sound. The silence made the work more intimate, he could pick up on all the small and interesting noises his playthings made. The smells became more intense as well, and he could really loose himself in his work and passion. Unless some annoying enforcer were standing right next to him demanding answers. The enforcers had no class, they didn't understand the beauty of his work, for them he was just a tool to get the answers they needed, and he delivered those answers every time. Oh how he loved it when he got to work on an enforcer, they were usually the biggest cry babies of them all. Not so much fun when on the other side apparently.

After working for a while Ken Smith suddenly put down his tools and went upstairs, it was time to have a cup of tea and sort through todays mail. With a bit of luck some of the books on those tribes doing headshrinking had arrived. Ken Smith had a huge collection of books and other artifacts delving into the more depraved parts of humanity, and it was his only other passion and interest.

Concetta watched the Don’s eyes as he kissed her knuckles, intense and sultry. He was certainly a man who knew his way around a woman’s heart and as much as he intrigued her she knew he was likely no good for her. As Abigail made her way out of the study Concetta took a seat where the Don had gestured and crossed her legs softly, making sure her dress did not rise too much but stayed at her knees. She saw how the enforcer seemed put off by her and her sister’s entrance and Concettta had to admit it had been a bit rude. She must remember to apologize later. She did not want to start out a new job angering a possibly important co-worker.

“My sister is very kind to me; I will work hard to live up to what she has said.”

Vincent saw the remaining people out of his study and turned back to the lovely young woman that seemingly was looking for employment and was the perfect fit according to Abigail. He stepped over to his liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of aged bourbon, lifting a glass and looking toward her with a smile.

"Your sister is a hard ass and wouldn't dare bring anyone before me that she didn't think could impress me thoroughly. Drink?" He poured a glass unsure if it would be hers or his.

Concetta smile as the Don spoke of Abigail; she knew he spoke truthfully. "I am sure this is true Senor." Her Spanish pronunciation of 'Mr' was spot on, a thing she had learned from the Don's uncle in New York.

As he offered her a drink she politely declined, preferring her alcohol to be in the form of a glass of wine if at all. "I am sure she has told you of my work in New York." Her voice was soft, not pressing or egotistical. "I did well there and was well received and I hope to be more successful here."

His eyebrow lifted slightly at her correct pronunciation, Abagail's sister somewhat of a mystery to him at best and yet he trusted his underboss with his life and his fortune. He took a sip of his liquor, enjoying the hot burn as it rushed down his throat. Walking toward her he kept his posture and attention very professional, his own thoughts of the beauty before him well hidden.

He sat down before her on a large leather chair, reclining a little and acknowledging the girl as she spoke. "I have heard that you did a good job for my Uncle, but please do fill me in on what exactly you were involved in. We are looking for someone to assist us in maintaining the facade of good citizenship and helping keep us legally sound. This is what Abigail proposed I speak with you about."

Concetta's smile became genuine as she felt the Don's subtle surprise at her well worded Spanish. As he sat and relaxed she kept her own posture straight, her ankles crossed and laid softly to the side. "Of course. I did a lot of paper work up keep, making sure everything was well documented or not depending as well as kept up with acronyms and other...secrete keeping necessities. I also kept up with various charities I eventually convinced your uncle to open or become a part of. While I was not the consig for your uncle I did assist him and so learned a great deal of the legal aspect of the job."

He nodded, quite impressed. "Well, I'm willing to allow you to join us and work as my consig as long as you're willing to move into the castle. I do not want you left unprotected and I want access to you quite readily. First things first... move your stuff in and then work up a model for how we better protect ourselves here in Miami. You've a week to bring it to me and impress me. If you're anything like your sister you will blow my mind. Make sure you look at everything. Study the city, the people, our lifestyle and everything else so that you can make a one-sweep change if needed. Consider it a wish list as well." He took another long drink of his drink and looked at his watch. He'd need to wrap this up, but he certainly enjoyed the view.

“Move in…of course.” She faltered for a few moments but caught herself. It was going to be a very different kind of living arrangement but she would learn. “I understand and I will be sure to include all aspects of the business.” She smiled and stood. “I see you are busy so I will leave you to your business.” With that she nodded her head in respect after being dismissed and made her way out.

The car drove outside of the city, which Yuanjia thought was most comforting. No man in his right mind, holding the power that the Don held would retain a permanent residence inside a city. He was glad that the Don was a man of intelligence when it came to security, even if it was most obvious and demanding.

He found that the man had taste as well. The gates were made of iron, delicately carved and yet still appeared rustic, even classic. The gardens were most pleasing to the eye, if only superficially, and the buildings around inside held the same classic make to them, managing to look expensive and meld into the countryside around them beautifully. It looked like this mansion had been here since the beginning of time, touched by time, it seemed, only to make it more beautiful with every passing year.

His own father's mansion was nicer, more appealing and less space wasted, traditional Chinese house, but much larger, more spacious, but this Gaijin could not be faulted for his lack of taste, the Deputy had to admit that.

They finally arrived at the house, where they circled around a large fountain, with Cherubim had water spouting from his mouth. Yuanjia stepped out of the car, pausing to stare, trying to understand this. He knew from his studies that he Cherubim were part of Christian Lore, Angels or helpers of their Three-Headed God. Why a God so almighty would need helpers or messengers confused Yuanjia, but Western religion was odd and beautiful in it's own way. However, the thought of these 'angels' spitting into a pool of water made Yuanjia's more sanitary cringe.

Two security men, huge, hulking apes, stepped out of the main door, dressed in suits that pressed at their huge bodies in a distasteful manner. Another sign of the small mind games that the Don tried to play to make his guests feel inferior to his presence. Yuanjia frowned but, straightening his blazer, he stepped forward.

"We are here to see the Don DeMarco. Our presence here has been announced, I believe."

"You weapons please," The man said, cutting straight to business. Yuanjia handed him his cane and, as the man's hand was extended, his hat too.

"Be so kind as to keep those for me. Oh, and that staff is from the Ming Dynasty, older than this wretched country. If there happens to be so much as a scratch on it, I do not care about business, I will torture you for five days and nights and execute you. Am I clear, oaf?" Yuanjia smiled brightly, off-putting the large man. The second guard stepped forward, looking at the fierce-looking Triad who was obviously armed.

"And his weapons?"

"Oh, he is to stay outside, where all dogs should remain," Yuanjia gave the man a pointed glare which made his own face go red. But he nodded, mastering his anger at the insult and indicated towards the door.

"This way."