Chapter Two

Despite his best efforts, Abbacchio continually found the woman and her baby to be in the back of his mind for the next couple days. The bad weather ceased, it got warmer, and he hoped that she was doing well and had been able to pay off her rent and maybe even buy some needed baby supplies.

And then one day when they were having lunch at Libeccio, Abbacchio was genuinely surprised to find that the one person he had expected the least to show up, came asking for him.

The maître 'd came to their table during the lunch, apologizing as he interrupted. "Mi scusi, Signore. But a woman is here asking for you."

Bucciarati looked up. "Show her to our usual room, if you would. I'll be right there."

The man bowed slightly. "Ah, apologies, Signore. She asked specifically for Signore Abbacchio."

Abbacchio whipped around to stare at the man in surprise. Who could be asking for him? Except maybe…

"Where is she?" he asked, trying to ignore how the table had suddenly gone silent with way too much interest.

"She's waiting in the usual meeting room, Signore."

Abbacchio nodded.

"Do you need me to go with you?" Bucciarati asked, then backtracked, "If it's Passione business, that is…"

Abbacchio hesitated but shook his head. "No, I'll call you if you're needed."

He stood as Narancia snickered. "Does Abba have a girlfriend?"

"Shut up, brat," Abbacchio snarled at him.

Fugo smacked Narancia on the back of the head. "Mind your own business, Narancia."

"I'm just curious!"

Abbacchio turned his back on them and headed to the private room at the back of the restaurant where it was usually Bucciarati holding court with the people of the city. Apparently, today it was his turn.

And once there, he, indeed, found the woman he had helped a few nights ago standing there, holding his umbrella in her hands. She looked a lot more put together now and he found himself finally taking in her appearance. She was small, even with the heels she was wearing, coming up to only about his shoulder. Her hair was black and pinned up on the back of her head, several tendrils escaping to frame her cheeks. Her make-up was no longer streaming down her face, but neatly applied, heavy black framing striking copper eyes that caught him as soon as he entered the room and dark red lipstick. Her shoulders straightened, but he could sense a tense energy underneath the look. Her hands gripping tighter to the umbrella, her body looking like a coiled spring.

"Signore Abbacchio," she greeted.

He nodded back. "Signorina. Is there anything I can help you with?"

She pressed her lips into a firm line before she took a step forward and handed him the umbrella. "I came to return this. And to say thank you."

"That wasn't necessary," Abbacchio protested, but took the umbrella back anyway.

She looked away and bit her lip again. "Yes, it was. I apologize for being so…standoffish the other night. I just…"

Abbacchio almost snorted. To think, someone was apologizing to him for being standoffish. "Trust me, it's okay. And it seemed like you had a lot on your mind." He almost dreaded the answer, but he had to ask anyway. "How's the baby?"

She glanced back toward him. "She's fine. A friend of mine is looking after her at the moment."

A bit of relief flooded through Abbacchio and he nodded. "That's good." There was an awkward pause before he finally asked, "I never caught your name."

"Carmen," she replied. She bit her lip again until she finally sighed and turned back to meet his eyes. "Look, I understand what it means that you helped me. But I can't…" She clutched her hands together, nervously. "I can't be in debt to another person. I'm willing to be honest with you. There's no way I'll be able to pay off that money. So I…I can only offer you my services." She reached up and started to open her coat, sliding down one shoulder to reveal lace…

Abbacchio's eyes widened as he realized where her conversation was going. He reached out to grab her wrist, stopping her.

"No," he said quickly. "Signorina, that's not…no, you don't have to do that." He carefully pulled her coat back into place.

Carmen's eyes glistened, and her fists clenched in frustration. "I'm sorry that's all I have! You think I want to whore myself out to men like you? I don't have a choice! I'm sorry that's not good enough. You can take back the money I haven't spent yet if you want."

A tear spilled over and ran down her face, and she hurriedly turned away. Abbacchio's heart wrenched in his chest and he hurriedly reached out to touch her shoulder.

"Signorina," he said quietly, sighing as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief and pressing it into her other hand. "I meant no…offense to you." He cringed. He was so bad at this. If this hadn't already been the most awkward conversation, he almost wished he had taken Bruno up on his offer to come with him. "Please understand that Passione, the section we run, works differently from other factions. I don't need anything in return. I gave you that money in charity because I saw someone who needed help, and my Capo and the Don help people in need. That's what we do. So please, don't think you owe me anything. I only wanted you to be able to keep your baby and care for her."

"Please," she scoffed. "Why would you help someone like me if you didn't want anything in return?"

Abbacchio stared her in the eye, about to spout off something Bucciarati or Giorno might—heaven help him—but instead he told her the truth. "Because I know what it's like to feel like shit, and like you're at the end of your rope and there's nowhere you can go but down." He took a deep breath. "And because when I felt like I was as low as I could ever get, someone showed up and helped me. I guess I just wanted to do the same for someone else."

Carmen stared at him for a long moment and Abbacchio fought the urge to squirm, always uncomfortable being that truthful, especially about his past. But her face seemed to soften in understanding, or at least some kind of acceptance.

"I see," she said quietly.

"Take care of your baby," Abbacchio told her sincerely. "That's all I want from you. And also, please remember, if you ever need anything, or need any help, you don't have to be afraid to ask from Passione. Even if you don't want to come to me personally, you can always reach someone who will help you here."

Carmen finally nodded, and wiped her eyes again, looking down. "Okay. Thank you. I'm not…I'm just not used to…"

"I get it," Abbacchio said truthfully. "I know how nasty this city can be, how much it can try to drag you down, but we're trying to make it a little better."

"I'm embarrassed now," she said with a soft, scornful laugh.

"Don't be," Abbacchio told her. "I'll forget everything that happened if you want me to."

Carmen offered a small grateful smile then took a shuddering sigh and glanced at a clock on the wall. "I…I need to go."

She started toward the door before she turned back. "Thank you. Really."

Abbacchio nodded to her and watched her leave, slipping quickly out of the restaurant before he went back toward the table, propping the umbrella up against his chair.

Everyone's eyes were instantly on him, Bucciarati's questioning.

"Did everything go well?" he asked.

Abbacchio fought the urge to glower at him in defense for some stupid reason and shrugged. "Fine. It was the woman from the other night, she just wanted to return my umbrella." He motioned to the umbrella in question for emphasis. No need to discuss the rest of that conversation.

"Ah, how are her and the baby doing then?" Bucciarati asked sincerely.

"Baby?" Narancia asked, eyes widening.

And, of course, Maria picked up on that too, leaning forward to see Abbacchio past Bruno.

"They're both doing fine apparently," Abbacchio muttered. "Look, I don't know that much, okay? I don't pry into other people's business like some of you do." He shook his head. "Don't we have work to do anyway?"

Bucciarati pulled up his sleeve to look at his watch with a small sigh. "You're right, we do need to get back to work." He turned to Maria and gave her a brief kiss. "See you later, tesoro."

"Be safe," Maria called to them as they all filed out, except Trish, who would be heading back to the bakery with Maria for the afternoon.

"What's on the agenda today?" Mista asked, stretching as they got back out into the sun.

"We are going to check up on a couple of the new businesses," Bucciarati replied. "Giorno, Fugo and Mista, you'll go to that new casino, and the rest of us will take a look at the two new restaurants to the north."

"Sounds good, we'll meet you back at the house tonight," Giorno called as they split up.

In the last few months they had been able to find shop owners to open a lot of places under their protection, even a couple casinos, which meant that they had control over who ran them, and where the money went. It made it a lot easier to keep track of that kind of thing. It was also their hope that opening them in the more sleazy part of the city might help drive out the people doing illegal business under Passione's nose there as it would be a lot harder to fly under the radar now. In addition to that, Maria had been able to reopen her bakery and Bruno had bought and sold a lot of the other empty businesses in the area, putting new ones in, which was going a long way to bringing that part of town back to its original happy, family friendly atmosphere. The kids were particularly fond of a new gelato shop that had opened up near the bakery.

All in all, it seemed to be going well, and the city was certainly looking a lot brighter, tourism was up now that they were heading into spring, and it seemed like Bucciarati and Giorno's plans for Passione had really started to see the light of day. After a few snafus and some territory wars with a couple groups refusing to stop their drug trade, things had finally seemed to calm down. Which made all of their jobs a lot easier. Narancia and Trish had been able to go back to school, Bruno and Maria had been able to enjoy marital bliss, Giorno was becoming a leader even Abbacchio could respect, even if he still acted like a stupid kid sometimes, and even Abbacchio was feeling more content. Of course, the fact that he was simply alive was astonishing enough sometimes, but here he was, still breathing, despite everything.

Their business concluded for the day, they all headed home where Maria and Trish had already started dinner. Abbacchio went to make a pot of coffee for himself and whoever else was working in the office, probably undoubtedly Bruno, and Giorno when he got back. He should probably make a cup of tea for Fugo too.

"Everything go okay today?" Maria asked as Abbacchio measured out grounds and put them in the pot.

"It went fine, at least on our end," he replied. "All the new restaurants seem to be running well and everything."

"I'm glad to hear," Maria said sincerely. "It's nice to see that neighborhood going back to its former glory. It was always such a nice place."

"And how's the bakery doing?" Abbacchio asked, snatching a carrot off the tray where Trish was cutting them.

"It's great," Maria smiled.

"We sold out of most things again today," Trish added.

"I'm thinking of hiring another person to work in the back, maybe two," Maria added. "With the increase in traffic, it would be really beneficial to have a couple more people on baking duty. And now that I have Trish and Narancia helping me a good bit of the time, I can afford to take some time to train a couple new bakers."

"Sounds good," Abbacchio replied. "I'm sure you'll be able to find a couple eager hands."

"Actually, that reminds me, Leone," Maria said as he reached for mugs. "That woman who came to see you today, the one with the baby."

Abbacchio refrained from sighing. "What about her?"

"Is she looking for a job?"

Abbacchio fought back a snort. "I don't know," he replied honestly.

"Well, could you ask her? I'd be really lenient with her time off."

"Maria, you don't even know her," Abbacchio protested. "I don't even know her. I just saw someone who needed help and helped her. That's it. She only came today because she…" He glanced at Trish and bit his lip. "Thought she owed me."

"Well," Maria shrugged. "If you're afraid she might think my asking her to work in my bakery is repaying debts, then you don't have to. But I would really like to send her some things for the baby regardless."

"I don't even know where she lives," Abbacchio grunted, pleading with the coffee pot to finish as he watched it burble, only halfway full. "I don't see why everyone thinks I know everything about her."

"Well, if you do find out, let me know," Maria said with a smile that brightened the room.

Abbacchio's face slackened, unable to keep up the grumpy attitude around Bruno's sunbeam of a wife. "Fine, I'll let you know if I find out."

"What's her name, anyway?" Trish asked, trying to be nonchalant, but Abbacchio saw through that instantly.

"Carmen," Abbacchio grunted. "And that is enough prying."

"You don't have to be so defensive," Trish told him.

Abbacchio huffed and turned back to the coffee, which was finally done, fixing cups for him and Bruno before heading to the office, hearing quiet snickering from the women behind his back. Those conniving—

The front door opened and Giorno and the others came in, talking quietly. Abbacchio instantly caught the frown lines on Giorno's face when he turned to see him holding the cups of coffee.

"Is Bucciarati in the office?" Giorno asked.

Abbacchio nodded. "Something go wrong?"

"We may have a bit of a problem is all," Giorno said, nodding for Abbacchio to follow as he headed toward the office. Abbacchio might have normally been pissed at the gesture, but he had gotten a lot more used to the kid over the last year or so he'd been with them—and admittedly, a bit fond of him too.

"All right," he grunted tiredly. Because of course they did. It had obviously been quiet for way too long.

Once everyone was in the office and Bucciarati had greeted Giorno, the young Don spent no time in stating their issue.

"The one casino and lounge, on the east side of town seems to be running okay, everything checked out there. Profits are actually up since last month," Giorno began. "The other one, however, Fanucci's, seems to be attempting to hide something."

"I checked the books while we were there, and found discrepancies," Fugo said darkly.

"We think they're dealing drugs on the side," Giorno added.

Bucciarati's mouth pressed into a firm line. "Is that so?"

"Well, we can't prove it for sure just from what we saw," Giorno said. "But regardless, Passione is not collecting all it should be from that establishment."

"Are we gonna shake 'em down?" Narancia asked almost too eagerly. Abbacchio shot him a look, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Actually, while I was looking in the accounts, I saw a mark in the owner's appointment book, indicating some kind of meeting to take place tomorrow night," Fugo stated. "I would assume if something strange is going on, that's probably it."

Bucciarati nodded in agreement. "Yes, you're probably right. I think we should be there then."

Abbacchio made a face. If he never had to go to another drug bust again…god, he did more of those now than he ever had as a cop, and wasn't that ironic? But at least they knew they were getting these people off the streets, at least in their territory. He just wished idiots would stop thinking they could get away with it in the first place.

The next night, they made their way to the casino. It was Friday, and the place was packed. It took everything for them to squeeze through the press of people to see if they could locate their target.

"See?" Mista shouted to Bucciarati, his voice barely audible above the ruckus. "This place is making way more money than they're giving us."

Bucciarati nodded in agreement.

"Plus, I would imagine the drug deal would be another reason a lot of these people are here tonight," Abbacchio added, nodding to a corner of the room where there was a lounge. People were sitting there, but they didn't seem to have any interest in gambling. Some of them already looked like they were on something.

They finally made it to the back wall, and stood, watching the room, looking for any sign of the incoming drug deal.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Mista asked.

"You'll know it when you see it," Bucciarati told him.

And at just that moment, someone entered the room, nice suit, followed by two men, carrying brief cases. Abbacchio nodded to him.

"There, that's gotta be him."

Giorno nodded in agreement as the man and his entourage made their way directly to the back where the offices and private rooms were.

"Giorno, you and I will go surprise them," Bucciarati said. "Abbacchio and Mista, you go watch the back. Someone is certain to bolt."

Abbacchio nodded and motioned to Mista before they started to squeeze their way out of the casino again.

Abbacchio instantly breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped out into the night air. There was a bit of a bite to it, but it was overall far more pleasant than the sweaty press of loud gambling men and women inside the casino.

They made their way around the back and positioned themselves by the door. Mista had his gun out, checking the rounds before shucking it back together with a swift flick of his wrist.

"How long d'ya wanna bet it takes?" He grinned at Abbacchio.

The goth snorted. "Less than five minutes."

He was right. Actually, it was less than three minutes—Bruno and Giorno worked fast—before the door was slammed open and the drug dealers attempted their escape.

"Hey!" Abbacchio snapped, slamming one directly in the face, poleaxing him so that he collapsed, completely out, on the dirty ground.

Mista was grappling with the other one for the briefcase, and that left the third guy, the leader, running.

"I got him!" Abbacchio shouted and sprinted after the man, his long legs tearing up the space between them.

The man glanced over his shoulder, a frantic look on his face as Abbacchio snarled at him, letting him know he wasn't going to get away.

They rounded a corner where several prostitutes stood and the man simply grabbed one of the girls amid screams and hurled her bodily toward Abbacchio.

"Merda!" he grunted, forced to catch the girl, both of them crashing to the ground as the guy continued on his way. Abbacchio at least was able to twist himself so he wouldn't fall on top of the woman, but he scraped up his elbow and hip in the process, the breath knocked out of him.

"Signore Abbacchio, we really need to stop meeting," came a slightly breathless voice.

Abbacchio finally glanced up at the girl who was still mostly lying on top of him and realized he recognized her.

"Carmen," he said, surprised. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I work here," she snapped, trying to shift off of him. Abbacchio then realized he still had her in a vice grip from the fall. "And if we stay like this much longer, you're going to have to pay me for your time."

"You know this guy, Carmen?" one of the other girls asked, as they came over to help her to her feet.

"Shh," Carmen hissed at them. "He's a mafioso." Her companions balked but Carmen reached down to give Abbacchio a hand up as he was already climbing to his feet, glancing around for the guy who seemed to be long gone.

"Dammit," he muttered.

"Sorry you lost him. What did that guy do anyway?" Carmen asked.

"Drug runner," Abbacchio muttered. "Are you okay?"

Carmen glanced down at the rip in the knee of her tights. "A couple bruises. I'll be fine."

"Carmen," one of the other girls called urgently, glancing toward the lounge behind them. "If he's not going to pay, you need to send him on his way."

Abbacchio glanced back at the building too. "Sorry for the trouble," he muttered.

Footsteps pounded up to him.

"Abbacchio! What the hell are you doing?"

Abbacchio looked over to see Mista, running up to him. "I got the other guy, he made the mistake of doubling back to his car. Now stop sweet-talking the hookers and let's go!"

Abbacchio curled his lip, annoyed that Mista had found him seemingly slacking off. He nodded to Carmen once more before he reached out and grabbed Mista's shoulder, steering him back toward the casino.

"Hey, easy! Don't be so touchy," Mista growled, jerking away before he glanced over his shoulder. "Hold on, is that…? Abba, that's not the girl with the baby is it?"

"Yeah, it is," Abbacchio snapped. "And you don't need to tell anyone that! Maria already wants to recruit her for the bakery, I don't exactly want to have to explain what her current occupation is."

Instead of further mocking, Mista gave him a slightly pitying look which was way worse. "Sorry, man. Of course I won't say anything. But you know that doesn't necessarily make her bad or anything. You shouldn't be ashamed on her account."

Abbacchio glowered at him, not knowing how to respond to that. Of course he wasn't ashamed of Carmen. He had no right to be ashamed of anyone who made questionable decisions. He just didn't want anyone else to judge her. Even if he hardly knew her, he could tell Carmen had been dealt a few bad hands during her life, it was undoubtedly not her fault she had ended up where she was just to make a living to be able to support herself. Sometimes, things like that just weren't avoidable.

Thankfully, he didn't have to explain himself because Bucciarati and Giorno met back up with them.

"Everything taken care of?" Bucciarati asked.

Mista nodded. "The drug dealers are tied up in their car. You get the others?"

"Yes," Giorno replied. "They're currently re-thinking their business ethic."

"Good," Abbacchio grunted, rubbing his sore hip. "Can we go home now?"

"You whine more than Narancia," Mista egged, nudging him with an elbow as Abbacchio bared his teeth at him.

"We're done here," Bucciarati confirmed. "The message has been received."

"Good." Abbacchio didn't know why he was suddenly so tired, a headache approaching. At least this had been an easy bust.

He just wished that everything else he had been thinking about recently was just as easy.