Luka Megurine walked along the city street, passing by numerous run-down and occasionally deteriorating buildings, with three large men following behind her. She was wearing an elegant yet simple black suit and a silver rapier at her waist, with the others were dressed in kind. Normally there might be some concern from passers-by at this rather open display of weaponry, but the expensive look of the wielders' clothing no doubt put any fears to rest. It meant that they carried some form of authority, after all.

The group turned a corner and arrived at a large shop near the intersection. The store was in noticeably better condition than the other structures surrounding it, its windows well-polished and its stone walls free from most any cracks or fractures. Panatteria di Zeperelli the sign above the door declared in bright, cheerful letters. In the windows dozens of breads, buns, and rolls were on display.

Luka opened the door and entered, the several men still following. Inside, a short, balding man was at a counter, wearing an apron over his work clothing. A look of shock washed over him as he saw the small assembly approach.

"Good afternoon, Signor Zeperelli," Luka said to him. She was composed and rigid, but spoke the words with a refined precision.

The man shifted his eyes around the room. "I suppose Don Marciano sent you here, then?"

"Who else would've?" Luka replied, a slight smile forming on her lips.

Zeperelli hesitated. "Could we please take this into a back room or something? You're going to scare my customers away."

"I think whatever customers you might get today can wait, Signor Zeperelli. At least, they can for this little matter."

The baker drummed his fingers on the counter. "And what matter would that be?"

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that you don't know?"

Zeperelli stayed silent. Luka sighed. "I'm sure you recall the little arrangement you had set up with Don Marciano?"

The man laughed nervously. "How could I forget?"

Luka smiled a little again. "How could you, indeed. But unfortunately, it seems you are guilty of just that." She reached into a pocket and produced several papers, which she slammed onto the counter. "You also recall, then, that you were instructed to purchase your supply of flour for the next year from the Orso Company, and only from the Orso Company?" She spread the papers out along the counter. "I have here their receipts for this month, listing to whom flour is to be delivered to, in what amount, along with the price of each shipment." She leaned forward over the counter. "The name of your bakery does not appear to be present anywhere on these lists."

Zeperelli began to wring his hands. "Listen, you have to understand, it takes time to set up a business, and the price of Orso flour…"

"…doesn't enter into it," Luka finished for him. She continued to speak with an icy serenity. "The fact of the matter is, Signor Zeperelli, you had an agreement with Don Marciano, and in any agreement, both parties have an obligation to hold up their own end. That's a simple rule of business, any business. Perhaps," she said, looking around the nearly-empty bakery, "if you could recognize that, you would actually have a few customers to frighten off. Do you understand?"

The baker opened his mouth, apparently about to protest, then solemnly closed it. Luka gathered the papers in front of her and pocketed them, then stood back up, reforming her prim and upright posture.

"I want you to know that Don Marciano does not grant monetary favors to just anyone. For him to grant one a loan is practically a gift in itself. One must show integrity and honesty, and must clearly intend to use the lent funds for a good cause." She meandered about the room briefly, inspecting the walls, the well-swept floor, and the foods on display. "You've done a commendable thing, Signor Zeperelli. This isn't the pleasantest part of town, but you're willing to add a bit of distinction to it, as well as another way for all the poor people living here to get their daily bread." She looked back at the baker. "So to speak."

"And I want you to know I'm grateful for everything the Don has done for me, and that I truly intend to honor it all, just as soon as-"

"Don Marciano is finished waiting," Luka said, her words like daggers. "He is a patient man, but he does not make his arrangements simply for himself. He must consider at all times the interests of his friends, his associates, and any other financial allies. And that is exactly why he feels the need to remind you of your situation. The Orso Company has done a great deal for Casa Marciano, and in return, Casa Marciano intends to do a great deal for the Orso Company. That is the stuff from which alliances are made, as I hope by now you are aware."

Zeperelli nodded again. "Yes. Of course I'm aware."

"But even then, the Don is not unreasonable. We had checked with the Orso Company several times over the past month, and every time, when we found no orders from you, we tried to remind you again of your promise. Or do you not remember the letters we sent you, nor the visit from Signor Kaito?"

"Yes, yes, I remember all that," Zeperelli said, his voice beginning to quiver. "Please, I… I just don't want any trouble."

"Neither do I, Signor Zeperelli. None of us do. But unfortunately, people sometimes make trouble for themselves." Luka crossed her arms. "You have shown yourself to be a very trustworthy client. All your payments have been on time and quite conveniently delivered. I want you to know we're very happy about that. But a simple loan was not the nature of your contract."

"And I'm perfectly ready to see out everything I've agreed to, as soon as I can!"

"Please see that you do." Luka put her arms behind her back and crossed towards the door. "The Don is a very patient man, but he does not appreciate people taking advantage of his good nature. You ought to take care not to upset him." She snapped her fingers, and one of the men next to her immediately drove his elbow into the nearby window, shattering it with a loud crash. Luka turned her head towards Zeperelli, smiling. "He doesn't take very kindly to bothersome customers." Luka opened the door and stepped outside the shop, her subordinates again following.

She walked back along the streets with an easy pace, yet still did so with a dignified air. She kept her eyes forward, not bothering to look around much. There wasn't a whole lot to see in this neighborhood. It was mostly the same sort of broken-down buildings, already fallen into disrepair after the somewhat recent attempts at urbanization. There were occasional spots here and there that had been renovated and made to appear somewhat respectable by some ambitious or even lunatic business hopeful. For what it was worth, they did help to make the district a bit more presentable.

Luka noticed a rat scurrying off into an alleyway out of the corner of her eye. The situation here wasn't too different from most of the town's, she supposed.

Going around streets like these wasn't a very pleasant task. Seeing the general decay of the area actually became outright depressing if Luka thought about it too much. But, sometimes, it was simply something that had to be done. Luka's Family found very good business in these parts of town, and if she was needed to make sure a deal is seen through, she was more than willing to traverse Hell itself to remind a client of his contract. The work wasn't particularly rewarding on its own, but its result always more than made up for the labors spent. For Luka knew, they were being performed in service of her Family, and of the capofamiglia who sat at its command. The very thought of it made her smile.

"We don't have any other business today do we, signora?" one of the men behind Luka asked.

The woman turned her head towards him. "No, messere, that was all. The Don and his daughter both wanted us all back as soon as possible for supper. You know how they both are about tardiness for meals."

Another man laughed. "Sure, we do. Signorina Lily gets worse than the Don!"

Luka swallowed an urge to reprimand him. "In any case, we needn't worry about getting back in time. That was far quicker than anticipated."

"He was pretty smart about it. Smarter than most, anyway," said the first man. "Maybe that Alfonso guy we saw last week gave him a little tip?"

The third man gave him a little nudge with his elbow. "A little tip? That guy'd be luck to talk once Megurine was through with him!"

All three roared with laughter. Luka rolled her eyes. This was hardly a proper display for familiari, let alone those belonging to Casa Marciano. But then, that was probably why they were still only sicari.

As they turned another corner, they saw a figure running down the street towards them. He wore another black suit, though even at this distance, Luka could discern its superior make. It was also a shade lighter than the black she was wearing, to better compliment the long blue scarf flowing behind the running man. As soon as he was noticed, his pace quickened. He stopped just before the group in front of him and bent forward slightly, panting heavily.

"Kaito?" Luka asked, her surprise readily apparent.

The young man before her immediately snapped his head up. His face was somber, perhaps even grave. "We've got a problem, Luka. Forgive me for interrupting you now, but this really couldn't wait."

"We're finished with the job, Kaito, it's all right." Luka's brow furrowed in concern. "What kind of problem?"

Kaito stood upright and looked Luka in the eye. "You've never been one to beat around the bush, Luka. I probably don't need to put this lightly: Don Marciano is dead."

"I'm glad to see you already removed the body," Luka said, standing over the Don's desk in his reading room. Everything other than the corpse had been kept the way it was found. Just below the armchair there was a wrinkled newspaper, and on the floor to the left of the desk was a broken china cup lying in a pool of coffee. On the desk still sat a silver tray and a metal pitcher, along with a few coffee filters.

"We'd already examined him," Kaito said. "There wasn't any reason to leave him lying on the floor like some hunted animal."

Luka knelt down over the puddle of coffee and took a quick sniff of it. "That's far too bitter to have been just coffee," she said as she stood back up. "I thought he would've been able to tell that."

"His senses were starting to fail him, I guess, quicker than he let on. It looks like smell left sooner than the others."

"Taste, too, I suppose." A somewhat trite portrait of a man in hunting gear on the wall nearby briefly caught Luka's attention. "Though then again it's hard to say if he ever had any."

Kaito smiled a little, his eyes still downcast. "He knew what he liked, is all."

"Do we have any idea who's behind this?"

"There isn't much to go on," Kaito said. "Nobody on guard says they saw anyone come in, but we found two sicari dead in the hallway. Both had their necks sliced, right across an artery. Whoever it was, she knew her stuff."

Luka raised an eyebrow. "You know it was a woman?"

"I said nobody saw the assassin, but she assaulted one of the house staff. She wasn't hurt too badly, but she's still a bit shaken from the whole thing." Kaito walked to the door. "She says she's ready to tell us about it. That's why I came to get you so soon, actually; I thought you should hear this firsthand."

He opened the door, and disappeared down the hallway. Half a minute later he returned with a girl in a plain white dress, wearing her deep purple hair in pigtails.

Luka approached the girl, smiling. "And what's your name, signorina?"

The girl was looking towards the floor, her eyes a little empty. "Rion Tone, signora."

"How long have you been working at the mansion?"

"Only a few months, signora."

"Has everything been fine for you?"

"Yes, signora, everyone's been most kind to me. It's been far better than my last job." Rion raised her head more, though she still wasn't looking quite at Luka.

"Can you tell me what happened to you this afternoon?"

"I'll try, signora." The girl paused, her nervousness almost palpable, and then began to speak. "I was working in the kitchen by myself. The others were busy cleaning, I think. That was the way we were scheduled, anyway. Then I remembered it was time to prepare the coffee for the afternoon, so I put some water on the stove and then put some grounds in it. After it had boiled a few minutes I poured it into a pitcher, mixing in some cream."

"And there wasn't anybody else around?" Luka asked.

"I didn't think so, signora. I couldn't hear anyone, anyway. Once I had the tray set up, though, I felt a hand over my mouth and there was… there was a knife just over my throat." The girl looked down again, swallowing. "Before I could scream, she spoke to me. I don't think I'll forget her voice, ever. It was sort of melodic, even… pleasant, as strange as it sounds. She told me not to move unless I was told to, and not to make a single noise. She brought me over to one of the cupboards, and then she tied a cloth over my eyes."

"So you never saw her face?"

"No, signora. It was a thick cloth, I couldn't see anything through it."

Luka nodded. It seemed their infiltrator really did know her stuff.

Rion continued. "After that… she told me to take my dress off. I just sort of froze at that, so she pressed the knife a little harder against my throat and told me again. So, I did." The girl closed her eyes and swallowed again, harder this time. "It was humiliating, but I had no choice. Anyway, that's… why I'm not in uniform right now, signora."

"It's all right" Luka said. "Please, continue."

The girl nodded. "Well… then she tied a cloth over my mouth, and then she bound my hands and feet. I guess she brought some rope with her. Then, she shoved me into the cupboard. I tried to get free from the ropes, or at least break open the doors, but I couldn't, nothing would budge. Maybe she managed to lock the cupboard door, somehow." She took a deep breath. "Then I heard a bit of clatter, and then the door out of the kitchen opening and closing. I don't know how long I was in that cupboard, but it must've been a while. It seemed like a while, anyway. The next thing I remember was the sound of the cupboard doors opening, and then Signor Kaito and some of the others freed me."

"And you're sure that's all you saw?" Luka asked.

"Yes, signora. That's everything."

"Thank you, Rion," Kaito said. "You've been very helpful." He began to lead her out of the room. "I know this was hard on you. You should take a few days off, to rest a little."

Rion looked up at him, smiling a little. "Thank you, signore. You're very generous."

"It's no trouble at all," he replied. The girl bowed to him and walked down the hallway.

"And that's all we've got," Kaito said, stepping back into the room.

Luka brought a hand to her chin. "It's strange. We have two sicari dead, but the assassin left the maid alive. She could've killed her and then we wouldn't have any leads at all."

Kaito shrugged. "She certainly wasn't above scaring her half to death. Maybe she just had some kind of vendetta against familiari."

"But there were plenty others here she left alive. You, for example," Luka said, gesturing towards Kaito. "It's more likely she just didn't want any witnesses, but she didn't feel right about killing a servant." She looked back at the fallen cup. "It isn't every day you run into an assassin with something of a working moral compass."

"It's pretty clear her target was the capo, in any case," Kaito said. "All the pieces seem to say she was part of another Family."

"The question is, which." Luka turned back to Kaito. "I assume you see the other problem?"

The man folded his arms, nodding. "Right. This assassin sure seemed to know a lot about the mansion. The layout, the maids' schedule, even when the capo got his coffee."

"And the only way she could've known all that is if someone among us told her. So, it looks like we have another lead after all." Luka walked toward Kaito, slightly closing the distance between them. "We just have to find the rat in the house, and then make him squeal."

Notes:

I don't intend to use Italian in this story more than necessary, but I feel it's a useful way to establish the setting a little more as well as to add a bit more colloquial color to the dialogue. As much as I tried to make the meaning of each term clear by its context, I feel it'd still be easier to include a quick glossary every time I introduce a new word. Please note, however, that most of the language included is meant as a sort of slang among the characters, and thus not every term is intended to reflect its literal definition.

Panatteria: bakery

Capofamiglia: literally, "head of the family," capo meaning simply "head" or "boss."

Messere: a formal means of addressing someone below one's social rank, similar to the archaic English "sirrah."

Familiari: plural of famiare, meaning "member of a family."

Sicari: plural of sicario, meaning "killer" or "hit man."