Veronica Marietti had been physically ready for her date with Marco for the past hour. She found herself aesthetically pleasing. She had taken the time to roll her hair, letting it fall over her shoulders in gentle waves, parting it off center and pinning back one side. She carefully lined her eyes, applied mascara to her long lashes, and then painted her lips a dark cherry red.

She liked the contrast of the color to her light skin. In the city, where she was born and raised, red lipstick was a sign of class and sophistication. On the east side, it meant something completely different. It was a sign that you were fast. Veronica ignored the implication, hoping that she could hold her own with this Marco Vendetti character despite how nervous she really was.

Her daddy always told her to never show fear, don't let anyone think they're stronger than you. People find your weak spot, they'll walk all over you.

She wasn't sure where they would be going. Marco didn't seem like the type to wine and dine a girl. She still decided to dress feminine. She maybe owned three pairs of three quarter jeans, after all. She picked a cream colored halter dress with thick straps across her chest. The dress synched in the waist with a thick ruby red belt. She chose a matching pair of red pumps with which she was now marching around the apartment's small kitchen.

She had come her to get away from the city, thinking that somehow it would make her forget her father, forget how he was murdered in cold blood for trying to do something good. That was the kind of man he was, after all. She had always been a daddy's girl. She was making herself sick, thinking about how vastly different Marco Vendetti was from her father. He was the exact opposite, in fact. She'd be lying if she said that didn't intrigue and scare her a little.

At two minutes till eight, she decided to go downstairs and wait on the stoop of the apartment. Right on time, a cherry red 1952 Chrysler Convertible pulled up to her building with the top down and Marco Vendetti stepped out. He had on a black button up underneath his black leather jacket. He smoothed back his hair and flicked his cigarette into the street as he leaned on the windshield of his car. Veronica carefully descended the stairs and stood firmly about two feet away from the car.

"What the fuck are you waiting for, doll? Get in."

"The door." She said, almost clearing her throat.

"You've got hands, right?"

She gave him a few more seconds and when he didn't budge, she thanked him for the lovely evening and turned on her heels to go back inside.

"Oh, Jesus Christ." He muttered, circling the car and holding the door open for his date.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" She cooed, finally sitting in the vehicle.

Marco licked his lip, muttering to himself and shaking his head as he rounded the vehicle, getting into the driver's seat. Ordinarily, he would have backhanded this little bitch into last year. Something about her feisty attitude and smart mouth made him want to dominate her, show her exactly who he was. He was gonna make her his.

"You look nice." He said. It wasn't a lie. He actually had thought she looked beautiful, but that word was too hard for him to say. She had painted herself up for him. The dress gave him a better view of her curves and the thought of his hands on that milky skin made his cock twitch.

She sat so daintily in the car, her ankles crossed to the side and her hands placed gently on her lap, her eyes trained forward. "I want to make something very clear to you; this is a favor to my uncle. Nothing more."

"Yeah, princess? And what makes you so sure you won't have a good time?" He snickered.

"Female intuition." She told herself aloud. She was determined to have a horrible time.

"What is this movie supposed to be about?"

"It's a horror movie, doll. It ain't supposed to be about anything. It's supposed to scare you so you climb on my lap." He mocked, placing his arm over her shoulders.

He had parked in the very back. When they saw him in the car, they waved the couple through immediately. That alone made Veronica realize what kind of man he was. The curiosity got the best of her. "So you're a Viper?"

He chuckled to himself, glancing over at me as he puffed on another cigarette. "Baby, I'm the Viper."

"My uncle's afraid of you." She stated blankly.

"He should be." He took the cigarette out of his mouth. "You aren't?"

She thought about it carefully, biting her lip, making Marco imagine that lip between his own teeth instead. "I am. A little." She finally decided, turning a little to face him.

"Let's see if we can change that, then?" He whispered, husky and dark in her ear, causing her to shiver. He flicked his cigarette out the window and grabbed her face, pulling her closer to him.

"No." She said simply, placing her gentle finger with her short red nail up to his lips.

He groaned, low and deep before biting the end of his thumb and turning his attention to the screen. Bitches didn't tell him no. He started contemplating how he was gonna get to this girl, how he would get her to let him in so he could destroy her. "So, why'd you move to Brooklyn?"

"My father died." She practically whispered. "My mom hasn't moved from the couch except to go to the liquor store. Nino's my last relative in New York. I wanted to take a break from Manhattan, get my mind off things. I need to stay local to go to Marymount Manhattan in the fall."

"The arts school?" He asked, to which she nodded. "What kind of art?"

"I dance, mostly."

"You any good?"

"I suspect you'll never find out." She smirked. "Marymount wont either if I can't come up with the rest of my tuition by September."

"Why'd you have to move in with Nino? Not that I'm complaining." He began lighting another cigarette.

"I wanted to take a little mental vacation. Everything got so heavy for a while, it just made sense."

"You know, I have a few ideas on how we could get your mind off things." Marco winked. She made an exasperated moan. "I'm sorry about your father." He lied. He figured it was enough emotion to help seal the deal, get this doll upset enough to climb in his backseat, play backseat bingo.

"Are you really?" She asked, turning to him and studying his face.

He took the cigarette from his lips and with his free hand, he gently rubbed his thumb across her cheek. There was a falter in her resolve. Her eyes had begun to water and it was beginning to threaten her eye makeup. Something about the tender touch had her questioning her entire stance on Marco Vendetti. He loomed dangerously closer to her face, lips a mere inch apart. "Marco?" She whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Can you take me home?"

"You're home early, boss" Philly said as he sat at the kitchen table playing cards with Vinnie and Jimmy. Marco walked in the door and slammed it behind him, opening his fridge and pulling out a cold beer, popping it open and taking a long swig from it.

"I take it that it didn't go as planned?" Jimmy cackled.

"Shut your fucking mouth!" Marco spat.

"Why didn't you just take the cake? You know what I mean?" Jimmy laughed. "I would have."

"You don't know how to handle a woman." Philly laughed.

"I think I could figure it out, especially with a sweet little thing like Veronica." Jimmy mused.

Marco slammed his fists on the table, startling Jimmy causing him to fall backwards out of his chair onto the filthy linoleum floor. "There ain't gonna be no 'figuring out', understand? You lay one hand on that girl and I'll –" Suddenly, Marco got a fantastically dastardly idea. "Hey, Philly!"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Find out everything you can about Veronica Marietti. I wanna know everything; her first pet, her favorite color, when she made her first 'F' on a math test. Whatever you can get. I need to know where she's gonna be tomorrow night. I have an idea." He smirked deviously.