Chapter 1:
I slide silently into a shadow-filled alleyway. My nose crinkles slightly at the smell of wet rat, stale bread, and alchohal. I smooth out my black suit and my face shifts into a calm poker-face as I wait for a mysterious business 'ally'. I can still hear the yells of the Brooklyn newsies and what I assume is the typical chatter going on. I hear footsteps approaching and I gently touch the un-noticible bulge of files I hid safely in my inner suit pocket.
A man of around 30 emerges from around the corner and struts in my direction. As he stops in front of me he gives me a once-over, and I assess him. Average height, pale, almond shaped forest green eyes, a brown bowler hat and a sleek black leather suitcase I assume contains my pay. I pull out the files and he hands me the suitcase. Only now does he glance down at me.
"The King of Brooklyn, or so he likes to call himself, will be found in the docks. Pleasure doing business my lady." He says in a deep, strict voice. I nod and he stalks back around the corner. Then I swing the suitcase up onto a rusted crate and open the case. 2,000 American dollars, all crisp and neatly stacked. A cruel smirk creeps onto my face as I close the suitcase, grasp it, and walk calmly out fo the alley, toward the docks.
As I am sucked into the mid-afternoon crowd I wipe the smirk off my face and re-arrange it into a calm mask. But my lips twitch to form a smirk as the ladies all glare at me and then children point at me. I am used to this so I ignore the looks as I swiftly step onto the docks, ignoring the suspicous eyes of newsies.
I continue walking until I reach whom I assume is the king becaus he is sitting on a pile of crates. As he sees me approach he jumps off the crate he is sitting on and leans calmly against it. About 10 other brute looking newsies form a half circle behind him. They would intimidate any other person but not me. I grew up surrounded by the most wicked men in Italy.
I halt in front of them and the warm summer breeze whips my long ponytail around. "So what da ya think ya is doin goilie?" He says casually as he swivels his gold-tipped cane in his right hand. I swing my case around slowly and reply charmingly, "I am here on business." He smirks and raises an eyebrow as he replies arrogantly "Oh what is ya business?"
"Are you familiar with the Morello Crime Family?" He nods. "Well let's say that our line of work is the same. And since they are currently occupied, I need a group who can assist me that is... effiecient." He looks up at me for the first time and his ice blue eyes twinkle with mock-interest.
"And what would we be assisting wit?" I smirk. "One of mine was very irresponsible and ran away from home. So he must be punished." He nods mock-thoughtfully and steps up close to me and whispers in my ear. "And what's in it fah me goilie?" I open my suitcase and he meerly raises an eyebrow and takes a few steps back.
"Sure we will help ya. But I would also like a little somethin' extra." I close the case and raise an eyebrow. "What else do you want?" His smirk widens even further as he places his rough ink-stained hands on my shoulders and his eyes sparkle with mischief.
"I would like to form an alliance. With you." Both of my eyebrows shoot up before my face twists into a charming grin. "I guess it would be nice to have some more allies over here. Alliance accepted." He spits into his hand and holds it out for mine to shake. Americans are interesting. I spit into mine and firmly shake his hand. "Spot Conlon. King of Brooklyn." He says arrogantly.
"Columbine Battaglia. Caporegime of the Venician Mafia." I say suavely. He cocks his head and studies me for a minute, giving me time to process how much I should tell him. He seems like a great leader and street-smart. But he will have to gain my trust in the next week before Ciiperzi's punishment will be executed.