He started up the marble steps toward the entrance. People were walking back and forth from the building. Some of them looked like businessmen who already had a name in this town, though Joey didn't recognize them; while most were big guys who appear to be the hired muscle.

Upon entering the place he saw that it was covered with plush red carpeting all around. The walls bore bright gold and white strips and furniture was of the highest caliber. He started down the long hallway, passing the desk clerk.

"Excuse me, sir." the clerk called out, having the notion that he was new here, seeing as he had never seen Joey before.

"Don't worry, I got it." he answered without looking back, he merely raised his hand up.

Joey may have been gone a long time but if he still knew what's what, it's that the head honcho always resided at the top floor. He reached the elevator and waited for it to open. When it did he saw that an aging old man came out. A slightly fat, bald man who wore a dirtied white apron that covered his black pants and plain white shirt.

That man was Deke Martel. The owner and bartender of Liquor Haven. Joey used to go there every night, preferring the company of passed out drunks instead of the ritzy parties held by the other syndicates that pretended everything was all right between them.

He hated those parties. He couldn't imagine that a truckload of drugs he was shipping suddenly exploded and then the organization responsible for it was now inviting him to a party like some kind of victory celebration.

Martel passed him with his head down and a look of disappointment in his face. He didn't bother to look at Joey; he was too caught up in himself, mumbling something about tearing it down.

He entered the elevator and pressed the 8th floor. It whirred mechanically and then rose up. It reached its destination and the doors flew open. The outside greeted him with icy cold air; the whole floor had air conditioning. The décor for the place was the same as on the first floor.

The only difference was a painting that hung beside a door on the far end, the only door there as a matter of fact. The painting was of Pantiliano LaSalle, 'Tilley' for those close to him. He looked to be about in his forties with his smooth, wrinkleless skin and partially gray hair but Joey knew he was already sixty-five.

He went through the door and saw the secretary filing papers. He went over to her.

"Yeah, uh, I need to speak to Mr. LaSalle." he told her and walked on without waiting for a response.

"I'm sorry, sir, but Mr. LaSalle isn't seeing anyone-"

"Tell him Giovanni's here."

"But-"

He didn't pay attention to the girl anymore, she wasn't going to stop him from seeing LaSalle; but these two guys were.

"Hey, you dickheads. Move out of my way."

One of the guards spoke up. "I'm sorry but Mr. LaSalle isn't-"

"Mr. LaSalle doesn't have shit to tell me I can't see him." he retorted, anger rising within him.

"I'm sorry. But you still can't see him." The guard moved forward with his hand raised in Joey's direction.

Joey got fed up with it. He curled his fist into a ball and landed it on the guard's face. The guy fell down while the secretary screamed. The other guard was momentarily stunned but decided to do the same to Joey. He ducked though, and then rammed his head on the guy's jaw; he fell flat on the floor.

Then Joey adjusted his shirt pompously like in one of those James Bond films, and began to step forward but the first guard already took out his handgun and pointed it at Joey. He had no choice but to step back.

"All right, all right." he walked backwards, hands raised up his shoulder. While the guard stood up, wiping blood off his mouth, the gun still aimed at him.

"I'll leave. But you tell Mr. LaSalle that the real guy who should be running this town is back, the guy who owns this town. ME, Joey Giovanni. And you tell your 'boss' that I'm gonna see him one way or another." he turned and walked out of the door, slamming it hard as he left.

"Damn! What was that all about?" the guard blurted out as soon as he was gone.

"Who cares? The stupid nutcase broke my jaw." the other said.

"Hey, I think this must be yours." the guard held out a gold tooth.

"Aww, Damn!"

Joey walked out furiously toward the elevator. All his plans had gone up. Worse, where would he go? He wasn't expecting for this to happen. He thought that once he returned, he would go back to power again. But maybe that was his fault for believing that people still had respect for him, let alone remember him, a person who had been long thought dead.

He reached the elevator, massaging the fist that connected on the guard's face. He was about to push the button when the doors opened by itself. A man about as tall as him made to get out but stopped short when he saw Joey.

"Hey, man. What happened to you?" the guy asked.

He looked like he was in his mid 20's with his jet-black hair and rugged unshaven look, wearing a trench coat that made him appear as if he was a private investigator. Even Joey was startled by his appearance and made him think twice about talking to this guy.

"Ah, I wanted to talk to LaSalle but those prickheads wouldn't let me. Said he didn't want to talk to anybody."

"That's not good. I came here wanting an interview with him. I was hoping I could work for him, you know." his voice didn't seem to have any trace of regret but maybe because he already expected this situation.

Joey surveyed him intently without blinking. The guy noticed it and apologized, ushering him in. He did so and pressed the button going down.

"So...uh, the name's Frank. Frank Kane."

"Joey. Joey Giovanni."

"Joey, huh? Haven't I heard of that name somewhere before? Anyways, you new here?"

"…Yeah. Something like that."

"Hey if you've got nowhere else to stay I can help you out, man."

Joey looks at him suspiciously, "Why?"

Frank raises his hands and backs off a little. "Hey, I ain't no homo, man. Just trying to help out a guy who's after the same thing. Mutual interests, you know."

"…Mutual interests, huh? Yeah, okay. What the hell."

Frank flashes a big grin at him as the elevator doors open. "Right. And then maybe we can both find a way to get into the LaSalles payroll."

They both walk out the elevator. "Heh. I ain't really looking to be in someone's payroll. I'm here because of something else."

Frank just laughs. "Hell, that ain't gonna be a problem with me. Just remember. Whatever it is, I wanna piece of it."