1919- New York City
Black stiletto heels clacked on the cracked pavement of the slums in little Italy, New York. Your shapely legs lead up to a form fitting pin striped skirt, your torso adorned with a white blouse and a tight black vest. The corners of your red painted lips were turned down with disgust as you looked on at your surroundings.
The local tenants gave you and your two escorts a wide berth, they knew the type of people you three were.
You absently looked over to one of your two companions, red lips parted to ask, "Has the family really stooped this low, Feliciano?" Your voice slightly tinted with an Italian accent.
The man to your right replied in his usual happy tone, "It doesn't matter now that we're here." He also had an accent, only his was heavier.
The man to your left scoffed, "That isn't what she asked!" He sent his brother a glare and answered your question in his brother's stead. "Yes, it seems that our foot hold in America has slipped since the boss returned to Sicily."
You let out a 'hmm' of acknowledgement before retreating back to your thoughts. Two pairs of shinned dress shoes matched your pace leading up to black slacks with matching blazers, Feliciano on your right wearing a green dress shirt and his older brother Lovino wearing a red one on your left. The Vargas brothers, two of the most skilled men in your family, a small smirk graced your lips. You had requested them specifically, you only accepted the best.
The three of you turned stopped in front of a bar the sign above it reading 'Italiano Vero'; True Italian. You strode through the door that Feliciano held open for you. You cast a quick glance around the shables of the bar, patrons of different states of drunkenness littered the tables.
Without a word you started walking to a door near the bar itself. The bartender spoke panicky as you started to twist the handle, "No, you can't go down there!" His eyes were wide.
Lovino sent him a deadly look that sent a quiver through his body. "We're with the Vinnola."
The bartended gulped and backed away, "Oh, s-so sorry sir, go right ahead."
You pushed the door open to a set of dimly lit stairs. Lovino went ahead of you with a tensed stance while Feliciano watched over his shoulder in a similar state. The dark haired brother pushed the door at the foot of the stairs open and you strode past him into the artificial light.
A room of eyes were on you, men with drinks in one hand and playing cards in the other, gave you skeptical looks. One finally spoke with a sneer, "You lose your way, bambina?" he snickered. "Or are you the newest street girl?"
Your blood red lips curled into a smirk, "This is pathetic."
The man that had spoke first took on an offended look, "Who do you think you are, dame?"
"Watch yourself, dammit." Lovino snarled at the man.
Feliciano smiled and rested a hand on his brother's shoulder, "Calm down, Lovino, they don't know better."
You paid the two no mind, instead addressing the rude man before you, "Who's your boss?"
The man raised an eyebrow and answered you cautiously, "Don Vinnola, but I was left in charge when he went home to Sicily a year ago." He stood and put his hands on his hips. "Look here, Jane, this isn't any business for a woman so why don't you run on home."
You smirked and the men a your sides held back snickers, "My name isn't Jane, my name is _ Vinnola. I am the oldest child of Don Vinnola. And I do believe this is exactly my business."
