So, it's been years since I wrote an OC romance, but I kind of fell down a rabbit hole now, and I just really wanted to write an OC romance with Bucciarati so here it is.

I doubt a lot of people will read this, but I wanted to write it anyway, and hopefully someone might also enjoy it. It is a slow burn romance and there's plenty of family feels and Bucci Gang bonding as well so even if romance isn't really your thing, you might still enjoy it :)

Hearts of Gold

A JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Fanfic

Chapter One

It was a beautiful day, with nothing at all out of the ordinary. They'd actually had quite a few days like this since their team had officially taken over Passione following the death of Diavolo and…well, Bruno thought it was nice to get a break every once in a while.

Over the first couple months after the takeover, Giorno had to go through quite a learning curve with Bucciarati at his side, advising, teaching, and just being there for support, but he was settling in quite well. They all were. Bruno found himself thinking how bizarre it was that over six months had already passed. After all the close calls and post mission recovery, it had been nice for things to settle down. Of course, there were still some groups rising up to challenge them, but so far it hadn't been anything they couldn't handle.

They were currently sitting down to lunch at Libeccio. It was rare these days that all of them got to have lunch together, but things had been timed just right today, so they'd decided to go to their favorite restaurant. Bruno sipped his coffee and listened with quiet contentment to the ridiculous conversation that had been struck up courtesy of Mista.

"So you know Hannibal Lecter," he said.

"Like in Silence of the Lambs?" Abbacchio asked blandly.

"Yeah, and how he said that his preferred pairing for human liver was fava beans and chianti. Like, do you think that's good? How the hell would the writer come up with that. Do you think he consulted a real cannibal or something?"

Trish huffed in annoyance, putting her fork down. "Why does the conversation always have to turn to cannibalism when we're eating?" she complained.

"Well, when else are we gonna talk about it? It's on topic," Mista shot back.

"Well…they do say that human flesh tastes closest to pork," Giorno commented, contemplatively.

"So, you think fava beans and chianti go good with pork?" Narancia asked.

Mista shot them a grateful look for the indulgence. "That might not be a bad idea to try! I'm curious."

"Liver doesn't taste like pork, idiot, it's organ meat," Fugo cut in.

"Okay, but what about pig liver?" Mista countered.

"I guess?"

"So, here's another question: if someone drank a crap-ton of alcohol, would that make their liver taste like it had been braised in wine?"

"I don't think it works like that, Mista!" Fugo retorted.

"It all filters through the liver though, right?" Mista asked, picking up his own glass of wine to drink.

"Actually, the enzymes in the liver technically break alcohol down into other things to be more easily processed," Giorno told him. "So…I definitely don't think it would retain the taste of, say, a red wine."

"Gross, can we please talk about something else?" Trish demanded.

"The cannibalism conversation is getting a little old," Bruno cut in to tell Mista, who pouted, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yeah, in my opinion, you're a little too obsessed with it," Narancia said, poking him in the side.

"Hey, these are important questions," Mista protested. "I mean, what if we were all trapped somewhere and had to decide who out of us to eat first?"

"Abbacchio is the biggest," Narancia pointed out.

"And Mista has the most meat in his bones," the goth shot back.

"Hey! And what about Narancia so he doesn't whine all the time?" Mista shot back.

"Hey!" Narancia cried, threatening Mista with his fork.

Abbacchio snorted. "Please, his skinny ass wouldn't make soup."

"Giorno can regrow limbs," Fugo pointed out.

Giorno actually looked thoughtful at that horrid suggestion. "Actually, he does have a point…"

"Enough," Bruno finally commanded, feeling like this conversation was going to get out of hand really quickly. He glanced up to see the host coming up to their table.

"Signore Bucciarati," the man said, giving a slight bow. "There is someone here to see you."

"Ah, tell them I'll be right there," Bruno promised, a little relived to escape the conversation.

The man nodded. "They're waiting in the side room."

Bruno nodded back in confirmation and stood, straightening his suit as he motioned to Giorno. "Giorno, Abbacchio."

The other two stood up and followed Bruno into the side room where he had always held court for the people of his territory.

Over the past few months, he had been bringing Giorno with him to see to the needs of the people. There was a lot of damage repair to be done in the wake of Diavolo's reign, and he had found Giorno to be very astute and sincere when dealing with the people, making Bruno feel quite proud of him. Giorno really did love this city like he did and he couldn't be happier to have this young man by his side to share in his principles.

The subject today caught Bucciarati a bit by surprise when they entered the room. She stood by the window, arms wrapped around herself, the early afternoon sunlight glinting off her auburn hair. The aesthetic picture she made surprised Bruno even more. Usually he was approached by older folks, or shopkeepers, but he couldn't say he had even seen this young woman around town before.

"Signorina," he announced, startling her slightly.

She turned around and straightened her shoulders, looking him in the eye after only a moment's hesitation. "Are you Signore Bucciarati?"

"I am," he replied. "These are my colleagues, Abbacchio and Giorno. What can we do for you?"

She gripped her arm tightly, the tips of her fingers digging into flesh. "I…was told you were the one who helped people around here. And I'm in need of help."

"That is correct," he replied, and motioned to the large round table in the middle of the room. "Please, sit. Can I get you anything?"

The young woman shook her head but took a seat, Bruno and the others following suit.

"May I ask your name?" Bruno inquired.

"Oh, forgive me," she said, embarrassed. "I'm Maria Gallo."

Ah, well the name was familiar at least. "Are you related to David Gallo?"

"My brother," she said.

Bruno shared a look with Abbacchio.

"Then what brings you here today, Singnorina?" Bruno asked her.

She took a deep breath. "I assume you know about the family store?"

"The bakery?"

She nodded. "Yes. You see, there's this man who's trying to take it, claiming it's his, but I know he has no right to it."

Bruno frowned, leaning forward. "Is he one of the men your brother has dealt with?"

Maria bit her lip, looking down. "My brother is dead—two weeks ago now, Signore."

Bruno's face softened instantly. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that. I hate to tell you this now, but your brother had stopped paying protection to us a long time ago. I had always dealt with your father but when he took over the business David was not interested in working with Passione."

"Yes, I know," Maria said quietly. "He had a lot to say about you, and then…well, it seems he went off to associate with worse people."

"It happens," Abbacchio grunted. "There's a lot of factions vying for attention in the city—even in Passione itself, especially right now."

"So, am I to assume the business is yours now?" Bruno asked her.

Maria nodded. "Yes, at least it should be. I have been living in Rome, going to school there, but I came back after David…the bakery was supposed to be ours together—that's what our father wanted. I would like to keep it going now that I'm the only one who can, but a week into reopening, this man came along, and said I had no right to run his business." Her brow pinched, annoyance she was obviously trying to tamp down showing through.

"And why would he think it's his business?" Bucciarati asked calmly.

Maria sighed. "He said that David had debts that he needed to pay this man. My brother did gamble a lot, I'm afraid. And one night, apparently, he signed away the deed to the store as a promissory note. But he paid the money back a few weeks after—I have the record of it in the accounting books! I went back to check and make sure. But this man is trying to tell me that the money was just to tide him over but…it was so much, about the same as what the bakery was worth—I don't even know how David got that much money back so quickly."

"And you have no record of this note? Any witnesses?" Bruno asked.

Maria shook her head. "No, I don't know. I never saw it. I asked this too, but the man refused to show it to me when he came to tell me the bakery was no longer mine. He said that the money David paid was for the sake of him destroying it but that my brother was still in his debt—some unfinished business. He also said that… that I only had a week to hand over the deed to him before I…before I ended up like David." She pressed a hand briefly over her mouth, face pale as she shook before she replaced her hand on the table, trying to regain some composure. "I didn't know where else to go, Signore. But I know my father spoke highly of you, so…" She shrugged.

Bruno's heart clenched at the obvious fear and distress showing in every line of Maria's body, darkening her green eyes. He reached across the table and settled his hand over hers, getting her attention back to him. "Signorina, what do you want us to do for you?"

She took a shaky breath, glancing at his hand over hers, then following it up to his eyes. "I want my family bakery. It's all I have left. I refuse to lose it to my brother's mistakes."

Bruno nodded, squeezed her hand gently before he leaned back. "Then that is what we'll do. But I'll need some information. This man who your brother was dealing with. Do you know his name?"

"I know people call him Marcello" she said slowly. "But like I said, I only recently came back, I didn't even know about my brother's dealings until this man showed up at my door."

Giorno glanced at Bucciarati. "Isn't that the man who has been going after people in the north of the city?"

"Yeah," Abbacchio grunted. "Low-life street scum who thinks he knows a thing or two about running a gang. They're just bruisers and drug peddlers."

Maria glanced up at him with wide eyes as he said this.

"Signorina, let me ask you this," Bruno turned back toward Maria. "Is there any reason you can think of that this man would be so dead-set on a bakery?"

She shook her head, bewildered. "I have no idea. I've wondered the same thing. Unless he wants to give it to someone else, thinking he'll gain a profit, or use the location for his own business."

Bruno nodded slowly and then stood. "We'll look into this. I'll stop by the bakery tomorrow so you can show me the books. I'd like to see them for myself."

Maria stood as well and reached out. "Thank you, Signore Bucciarati. When…when this is settled, I would like to resume doing business with Passione, if that's okay."

Bruno took her soft hand in his, pressing it firmly. "It would be a pleasure. We'll make sure this doesn't happen again."

Her face wavered slightly, but she ducked her head, auburn hair concealing her features as she pulled her hand away and started toward the door, nodding to Giorno and Abbacchio on the way out.

Bruno turned back toward the others once she left, sharing a look.

"Well, what do you think?" Abbacchio asked, leaning back in his chair. "I assume we're taking this on?"

"Yes," Bruno replied, folding his arms over his chest. "She's obviously innocent in this. Her brother on the other hand, I don't think I can say the same for."

"You think he might have been running drugs for Marcello?" Giorno asked. "By all reports, he seems to have started up quite the operation."

Bruno nodded. "I would say it's most likely. Or doing it himself, considering he came up with, presumably, a large sum of money very quickly. Perhaps breaking with Marcello or dealing in his territory is what set him off in the first place and probably what got David killed."

"Marcello's gang has been making a lot of trouble recently," Giorno mused. "Seems to be gaining traction too. Do you think it's possible he could be a Stand user?"

"It's possible," Bruno admitted. "There hasn't been any real evidence of that, but it would explain why he seemed able to make a name for himself so quickly."

"And make himself a general pain in the ass," Abbacchio growled. "I hate those bastards who think they can just prey on people like that and then have the gall to lie on top of it. It's disgusting."

"Agreed," Bruno said darkly. "But we'll get Maria her bakery back. And take more scum off the street at the same time."

"Win-win," Abbacchio muttered. "What do you want us to do first?"

"You and Fugo go see what you can find out about David's activities. I will ask around to see what I can dig up about Marcello and then go to the bakery to meet with Maria tomorrow."

"Sounds good," Abbacchio said.

"Let's go tell the others about the new job," Bruno told them and they went to rejoin the others at the table where things seemed to be devolving quickly as Trish watched the boys with annoyance. Abbacchio shouted at them to cut it out, breaking up the impending fight.

Bruno sighed, but couldn't help but feel light on his feet. This was the kind of thing he loved best to do, helping the people of his city. This was the reason he had fought so hard to rise through the ranks of Passione, had betrayed the Boss when he had failed to stop the unnecessary violence going on under his nose. Any day Bruno could help people, his people, was a good day.

This was the future he hoped for.

Maria walked away from the restaurant feeling a little better already. She had felt so lost since coming back to Napoli with no one there to greet her, nothing but a dead bakery that some strange man told her didn't belong to her anymore.

But maybe Bucciarati and his team could actually do something about it. She knew her father had always respected him even though he was probably no older than her. She remembered the young man coming to their shop to collect protection money, always polite, and handsome. It didn't seem like things had changed at all—on either account.

She thought back to his kind gestures and his understanding blue eyes as she explained her situation to him and felt a calm wash over her. She took a deep breath for what felt like the first time in days. Maybe…maybe everything would work out.

Maybe she could start fresh here after all in the city she had always loved.