Phoenix Wright flung himself back on the office sofa, but not before putting his suit jacket on the hanger dangling from the lamp. It was far from the only thing wrong with the office. The case file shelves were always open. The telephone hung by its cord off the table. Empty bottles scattered the floor, and the recycle bin was overflowing. He was never good at keeping house, so to speak, but he knew he was worse off since Maya left…

He shook his head so as to get her out of it. His eyes fell upon the teacup in front of him. Black, with just the right amount of soy milk and the single teaspoon of sugar. There was no work at this time. No reports, no files, nothing. It was 12:00 p.m., and he had the rest of the day to himself. He raised the teacup to his lips, and immediately choked as he heard the knock at the door.

He spilled the cup down his pressed, collared shirt. He barely stopped himself from cursing. Another paycheck down the drain at the laundry station. He sat still, praying for silence, and was rewarded with another knock. He had to answer the door.

He practically tiptoed over to the door, opening it just wide enough for his head to peek out, and froze. It was a young woman, petite, with long black hair and a long black dress. She didn't have bandages anymore, but that wasn't all that changed. She was actually smiling now. A quirky, lopsided smile, but a smile nonetheless. She had a slight blush in each cheek.

Viola Cadaverini. Oh no….

"Hello, hello, Ms. Cadaverini…" Phoenix tried and failed to keep his businesslike face and even tone steady. The young woman's face was blissful. "Please…call me Viola."

This was too much. The granddaughter of the city's most feared mob boss, right at his door, acting so…gooey?

"Uh, er, um…" Phoenix stammered. "Would you like to…discuss a case?"

She actually grabbed his hand. Hers was soft and warm, but a whole lot stronger than he thought. She led him over to the couch and sat him down before taking a seat right next to him. He felt her thigh brush his and tried to shift away, but she kept her grip steady.

"V-Viola, erm…usually I sit in the chair there…" He nodded his head to indicate the cheap wooden thing sitting across from the couch, "while the clientele sit here."

Viola did not let him get up. "Here is fine."

"Alriiiiight, then. You need a case?"

Viola looked up at him. "Yes. I would like to discuss it over dinner. Grande Azuro?"

Phoenix swore he could feel his sweat drop, it was so quiet.

"Now could be a good time to discuss it, actually…"

"Dinner. 6 o'clock tonight sharp."

"Y-yes, ma'am."

Viola actually chuckled. "Again, please…call me Viola." And then she did the unthinkable.

She tilted, moved her head, and pecked Phoenix right on the cheek. She smiled again. And then she was up and out the door.

Phoenix kept seated on the sofa, his hand touching his cheek, which was now at least twenty degrees colder than before.

What the hell just happened?

First chapter for Signora Mafiosa. I'm hoping to write a longer story than before, see how that plays out here. I'll see how how things go from here:)