"The stability of Passione is built off a hierarchy. At the top is the Boss, a man no one has ever seen, and efforts to uncover his identity always end in vain. Beneath him is his consiglieri, who acts as a messenger for the Boss. You don't have to worry about either of them. Teams such as ourselves are given commands by capos and typically assigned specific duties. For us, we protect the territory of Naples, thus making us the Bodyguard Squad. We collect protection money from restaurants, ports, and casinos, as well as finding any threats to the city. Sometimes we get requests from regular citizens. Sounds rather dull, but helping them secures their trust in us."

"Wait, hold on," Narancia interrupted, scratching his unruly hair in confusion. "Do people know that we're in a gang? Why are they comin' to us for help then?"

"Most do actually, but they wouldn't dare say anything," answered Bucciarati with a smirk. "I did just tell you that serving their requests helps with our popularity. You'll understand soon enough."

"Do you think they'll like me?" Narancia questioned, a childish pout on his face. He was certainly one who wanted everyone to like him.

"If you do your assignments well, then yes. But that's the rather tame part of the job. You've met Polpo, our capo. He hears word of what's happening on the streets and will task us with taking care of any threats."

"How can that fatass know anything if he's stuck in a prison cell?"

"Since you're rather new, I won't be giving you such information, but I can tell you that his intel is always correct. Back to what I was explaining, he sometimes tasks us with an assassination. Abbacchio and Fugo take care of those assignments. As my second-in-command, Abbacchio will let you join such missions if he thinks you are ready."

Narancia looked down with a frown, shaking his head in dismay.

"Is something wrong, Narancia?"

"I just don't think that Abbacchio guy likes me. He wouldn't stop glarin' at me yesterday. Plus he kinda looked like death. Those bags under his eyes were hella intense. He looks much more awake today, but I still don't think he likes me around. Every time I look at his face he just scowls. Is that his permanent expression or somethin'?

If he looks more awake, then Liliana probably let him sleep last night , thought Bucciarati. I wonder how long it will take for Abbacchio to tell Narancia about her, or if he even will.

"Not many in Passione are very trusting," Bucciarati answered, internally snickering at Narancia's comment — it was a rather fitting description of the older man. "Abbacchio is an exaggeration of that. It will definitely take time for him to be less wary around you. If it makes you feel better, it is rather impressive how quickly Fugo opened up to you. I haven't seen him so talkative in quite awhile."

"Huh? Fugo actually likes me?"

It was amazing to witness how fast Narancia's emotions visibly changed. Now he was bouncing on his feet with glee as he giggled.

"I think so. Let's head inside. You can eat some breakfast with us before we start work."

Bucciarati held open the door to Libeccio's for Narancia. The young teen practically ran into the restaurant and jumped onto a chair. He quickly put a large amount of food on his plate. Abbacchio and Fugo looked at him with startled expressions.

A team of four had much more practicality. Three Stands with differing combat abilities and one with detective capabilities Aerosmith was surprisingly usual for stealth thanks to its carbon dioxide detector, though Fugo had to give a very lengthy explanation of what the chemical and its functions were – Narancia still appeared confused about the science as Fugo bashed his own head onto a table in frustration.

With their numbers growing, Abbacchio could sense the pride in Bucciarati's chest whenever he walked into Libeccio's in the morning. His team was powerful, and Bucciarati firmly believed that with their power, they would be respected among Passione.

Despite Abbacchio's misgrievences with Narancia's childlike state-of-mind, the young teenager quickly settled into his new status as a mafioso. Everyone on the team agreed that in terms of intelligence, Narancia was rather dumb. But what he heavily lacked in intellect, he made up for with street smarts.

He wasn't dissuaded by his new, strange powers. Aerosmith was his soul, and Narancia knew how to utilize his best attributes for a mission. Every time his radar found their assigned target or successfully fired a shot, he would look up to Abbacchio with pride, asking for validation.

Abbacchio typically felt annoyed whenever Narancia opened his mouth, but he could not deny that the young kid was becoming a valuable attribute to the team. He didn't hesitate to say that Narancia was ready for a assassination mission when asked by Bucciarati.

Sitting at the desk in his living room, he read the file on tomorrow's target provided to him by Bucciarati. A man named Corvo was disturbing the peace in Naples, and Polpo had taken notice and wanted him taken care of. When Polpo had taken note of something threatening his territory, then it always led to their death.

Narancia was capable of fighting, Abbacchio had seen it himself. He only hoped that the kid wouldn't shutter at the thought of killing someone, but he would have to learn eventually. Passione wasn't a pretty day-to-day job.

Abbacchio was worried that Narancia would break down crying in shock at the killing blow, or perhaps Fugo and Narancia's combined energy would give him a never ending headache. The two youngest had gotten along very well. As much as they would irritate one another, they translated their chaos effectively onto missions. Though occasionally the way they managed to elevate the intensity of their personalities was enough to make Abbacchio want to take a week-long nap.

He wasn't going to spend his work-day babysitting and scolding some teenagers who couldn't focus. Their young ages didn't matter, they had a job to do. As their second-in-command, Abbacchio was prepared to knock them to their senses, even yell if they truly bothered him too muc-

"Ahh!"

A little hand smacked the contents of the file enthusiastically. A small, perplexed noise followed, its source now losing control of her body – she was too simple-minded to remember that she had yet to develop the strength of her back. She was lucky that her father was so attentative.

"Liliana!" Abbacchio yelped as he caught the baby before she could fall. "You gotta be more careful."

Now settled against his stomach with a firm arm around her, Liliana looked up at him and giggled uncontrollably, bouncing up and down in his lap.

Oh god. Between herding teenagers at work and single-handedly taking care of a baby, he was in a never-ending cycle of headaches and exhaustion. He would need all the coffee in the world.

"I don't understand how you find everything entertaining. You have so many toys to play with, and yet you want to play with some paper."

He gave her a random plush from the ground, though he didn't know how long she would actually play with it. Liliana was always very clingy in the afternoon, so she would find some way to get his attention.

"Where do you even get all this energy?" Abbacchio questioned as he watched the baby whack the plush against his thigh. "You're so happy all the time. You definitely don't get it from me."

If he wasn't working or caring for his daughter, Abbacchio was stuck in a never-ending wave of sorrow. Despite the past few months giving his life purpose and offering joy that he had never felt before, he couldn't stop wallowing in his past failures.

His life was a crescendo of tragedy. When he thought that his life was steadily improving, his incompetence ruined any hope within sight. He learned that it was pointless to be happy for the future, and yet every time he felt the smallest drop of optimism, his scowl deepened and dreams became fuzzy.

Whenever he saw his reflection, he wondered if other people noticed the lack of life in his eyes. The colors and ombre were indeed beautiful, but the sparkle was long gone.

Liliana appeared to not notice, and if she did, she chose to ignore it. For her, and just her, he was willing to smile. It was unnatural when he tried it for the first time in years; the corners of his lips felt heavy. Yet Liliana was not deterred by his awkward grin. It was easier to smile with practice; the books said that it was important for an infant's development, and Abbacchio knew that grumbling his way through it would not help his daughter.

Perhaps that was the explanation for her bubbly energy so very unlike him. Normally, such constant energy would have been bothersome, Narancia was proof of that. But at five-months-old, Liliana did not know any better.

Abbacchio may be biased toward his daughter, but seeing her so happy and his pessimistic attitude was not affecting her in the slightest made her an exception. Children were annoying nuisances, but Liliana was not.

Looking down at his daughter, currently fascinated by the texture of the plush, and realized that she was evidence that he was capable of some good.

Thievery wasn't a new concept in Naples. Even before the establishment of Passione, petty crime occurred. Now, the mafia and small thiefs coexisted, and crime thrived.

But if illegal activity not associated with Passione interfered with official business transpired, then the insignificant criminals would be taken out.

In the Naples territory, Polpo assigned Abbacchio and Fugo to complete the assassination missions while Bucciarati continued with his Squad's day-to-day tasks.

Bucciarati described the target, Corvo, to the best of his abilities to Abbacchio. Only the name of the assailant was known, as his self-claimed territory had no cameras and none of his victims lived to tell the tale.

When Bucciarati asked his second-in-command about the best strategy for defeating their enigmatic enemy, Abbacchio came to the conclusion that surveillance of the area was needed. Thus, Abbacchio permitted Narancia to join him and Fugo for the assassination.

"Nothing at the entrance," Narancia noted as he read his radar. "I'll go ahead farther."

"Try to keep Aerosmith about 25 meters above us," commanded Abbacchio. "These damn alleys have so many paths, and based on Corvo's style of attack, he probably has a long ranged Stand. Stay close so he doesn't sneak up on us."

"We have to search the whole alley? Aw man, that's gonna take forever."

"Shut up, Narancia," Fugo scoffed. "We have to search every corner of this place if we want to find Corvo. Even if he escapes somehow, we can just use Abbacchio's Moody Blues to trace his steps."

"Moody Blues? That's the name of Abbacchio's Stand? Are you finally gonna show me your powers?"

"Fuck no," Abbacchio immediately responded. "You'll see it once you earn my trust."

Narancia's bright grin faltered. He grumbled to himself while continuing to look closely at the radar.

"CAW!"

A crow flew across Aerosmith, swirving to avoid the plane. The bird chirped as it landed on a window. Its right side was coated in shiny greenish-blue feathers, a stark contrast to the pure black of the rest of the body. An animal wasn't an interference in the mission unless it was a threat, so Abbacchio paid no mind.

"Narancia, your radar should be able to pick up all exhales within its range, right?" Fugo suddenly questioned.

"I mean, that's what you guys said it does," answered Narancia as he scratched his head. "Are you tellin' me it does something different? Why couldn't you have told me that before we came here? Huh?"

"I'm mentioning it because your radar detects nothing. That bird is living, it exhales like any other creature. And yet, the radar is blank."

"Are you suggesting that the enemy is a fucking bird? Fugo, I thought you were smart."

"The bird isn't the fucking mastermind behind all this you damn idiot! It belongs to Corvo! He knows we're here!"

As Fugo and Narancia bickered back and forth, Abbacchio looked around the alley, trying to find the crow. The tall buildings cast too much darkness. It was hiding somewhere.

"Wait," Abbacchio finally spoke. "When we first saw the crow, it was flying perpendicular to Aerosmith. But before they could make contact, it changed its flight path. There's no way a bird would have known to move out of the way unless…"

"Hold on, Abbacchio," Fugo asked with uncertainty. "Are you implying that the crow is the Stand? That's fucking ridiculous."

Abbacchio wanted to shake Fugo for questioning him. They had seen the strangest of Stands in their time working together, so a Stand taking the form of an animal shouldn't have been that unbelievable.

The crow suddenly came into view, settling on Narancia's shoulder. It flew away just as quick as it landed. Narancia's body jolted as if he was electrocuted.

"CRYING" it shrieked before disappearing into the shadows.

Fugo summoned Purple Haze, running toward the crow's last visible location. Abbacchio checked Narancia's well-being. The newest member was standing up straight, blinking as if he was confused about appearing unharmed.

"Narancia, are you alright?" asked Abbacchio, hands hovering above his injured teammate in worry.

"There's…" Narancia spoke as he stumbled over his words. He shook his head before looking directly at Abbacchio, eyes sparkling with determination. "There's a signal on the radar. Our guy is on the ground. Can't be that far away at all. Let's get him!"

He tried running toward the source of signal, but his legs weakened under his weight. Tripping, he would have fallen face first onto the sidewalk if not for Abbacchio catching him.

"What the… I felt fine after I got shocked, or whatever that was. Why do my legs feel numb?"

Abbacchio helped Narancia stand, eyes scanning the area to find Fugo.

"Don't try to move," commanded Abbacchio. "That crow's cry probably activated whatever is happening to your body. Just keep an eye on the signal and we'll get rid of this bastard as quickly as possible."

He found Fugo looking at Purple Haze as the feral Stand had a tight grip on the crow. Fugo turned his head to Abbacchio with a grin.

If a capsule from Purple Haze was used on the crow, then surely the user would either die or cry in pain. Both options were ideal, though Corvo might have some information that needed to be tortured out of him.

Abbacchio decided to take the risk, sending a command through a nod.

Purple Haze's virus destroyed the crow within seconds; it didn't have enough time to scream in anguish.

Instead, an agnozing scream was released by a masculine voice.

Their target had been found.

"Alright, we got the guy," said Fugo as he dematerialized Purple Haze. "His breathing should be labored, so his movement will be slow and therefore make him easy to-"

Fugo suddenly jolted and then froze in place as he felt a sharpness fall onto his shoulder.

A crow sunk its claws into his flesh, and Fugo couldn't find the courage to move. He was too confused, not even flinching as blood was drawn.

"But how? I killed his Stand. Did it teleport?"

As Fugo questioned his predicament, Abbacchio squinted his eyes at the new crow. It looked exactly like the original crow. He would have assumed it was the same one that somehow escaped the fatal clutch of Purple Haze, but then he gazed to the left of the bird's body.

Similar to the previous bird, this crow was pure black except for the teal luster on the left side of its body.

Wait. Weren't the teal feathers originally on the right? Why were they on the left? The only explanation was…

"Fugo, watch out!" Abbacchio yelled. "That's also his Stand! His Stand is two crows! The second one was hiding!"

"LIGHTNING!"

The crow lifted itself from Fugo's shoulder, flying through the air as Fugo began to lose feeling in his legs. It disappeared into the darkness, and Abbacchio knew he couldn't have done anything to stop the bird; Moody Blues was not a fighting Stand, and it certainly didn't have the speed necessary to catch such a creature.

"Shit," Abbacchio gritted, struggling to hold Narancia as the teen slowly lost more control of his body. "That Stand can make your body go numb after one of the crows cry. Looks like the shock that goes through the body is what starts the process. If Corvo is smart, then he'll hide by distracting us with the crow. If that last one lands on me, then we're done-"

"The signal hasn't moved, Abbacchio," Narancia panted out. "He's on the floor level in an abandoned house about 200 meters ahead of us."

Narancia pointed to a house. Abbacchio looked between the injured boy and the building. This was their one chance to defeat Corvo, but the only person able to fight was the one without a battle Stand. Although he was the strongest physically in Team Bucciarati, approaching Corvo was the equivalent of walking into a trap. The second crow would surely approach for attack as soon as Abbacchio found Corvo.

But maybe he could use that to his advantage.

"Do me a favor, Narancia," Abbacchio whispered. "I can see that Aerosmith is still working, though it's rather close to the ground than usual, but we can make it work. See how the shadows are close to the edge of the alley? I want Aerosmith to follow me while hiding there. Pretty sure this bastard can see us using the crows, but he can't hear."

"But Abbacchio, you'll get attacked," responded Narancia. "What are you…"

"I know, and that's where you come in. Look at your radar, I'll give you a signal on when to fire."

"Huh? What? I don't understand. What kind of signal? Why are you putting this pressure on me?"

"Because I think you're capable of helping me stop him. I want you to earn my trust, alright?"

Despite his exhaustion, Narancia looked at Abbacchio with hope and awe. Abbacchio gave the teen a nod before lightly placing him on the street and sprinting toward Corvo's location.

He heard the fans of Aerosmith spinning next to him. There was no sign of the crow, though it might not stay that way for long.

The sound of pained, labored breathing became louder. Abruptly ending his sprint, Abbacchio looked back and forth before his eyes settled on an open door framing a man sitting on the ground. He was sweating and his back raised dramatically with every breath, messy and unkempt red hair covering his eyes.

This was Corvo.

"There you are," said Abbacchio as he walked to the injured man.

Corvo lifted his head at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. His yellow eyes widened upon seeing Abbacchio approach him.

"Why you…" he gritted out.

Though he was in clear pain, Abbacchio noted the grin forming at the corner of his face. The crow was nearby. Perfect.

"You thought you could gain control of a territory without working up the ranks of Passione," Abbacchio mocked, attempting to further anger Corvo. "You aren't even a member. You're just a pathetic man who wants to pretend he's worth something."

Corbo shook in anger, taking a deep breath to prepare to call his Stand.

Abbacchio made his breath heavier as well, hoping that Narancia would notice.

"CRYING LIGHTNING-"

Corvo's call was interrupted by two cries of agony. The crow fell to the ground, twitching as it progressed that its wing now had a bullet hole. Corvo held his lower arm as he tried to stop the bleeding.

Abbacchio kicked his target, making Corvo fall backward. Placing a foot on his face, Abbacchio summoned Moody Blues to do the same to the crow.

"I know you can stop the effects of Crying Lightning," threatened Abbacchio. "Do it now, or else I will command my Stand to crush it. You don't want to die like this, do you?"

Corvo remained silent for a few seconds. With a sigh, he nodded. A minute later, Abbacchio heard Fugo and Narancia running toward his location.

"You got him, Abbacchio!" celebrated Narancia. "I didn't know what you were talking about before, but I somehow figured it out!"

"We can praise ourselves later," interrupted Fugo. "Now that we've got him cornered, we can get some information out of him."

"Information?" Corvo questioned with his voice raised slightly. "You defeated me, what else do you-"

"You've been messing with the flow of Naples for a few weeks now," answered Abbacchio. "You think we came all the way here to beat you up and then leave? Be serious. We need to know your motives."

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

A swift punch to the face knocked Corvo flat to the ground.

"Oh come on. You tried to hunt us down while you stayed on the floor level. Didn't even move when one of your crows got destroyed. We all know you're not the smartest person, so just give us what we want before you do something else dumb."

Corvo groaned and grunted heavy discomfort, shaking his head. Abbacchio looked at Fugo and shrugged his head to their target. With a nod, Fugo walked to Corvo and knelt down as pulled out a pocket knife.

Fugo was swift with his movements, stabbing Corvo's forearm without hesistation.

"What the fuck?" Corvo screamed as the knife was twisted inside his body.

His eyes widened in horror as he saw his blood spurt onto the floor like a fountain. His other arm was still bleeding and bruised, recovering from Aerosmith's bullets and the foot pressure of Moody Blues.

"You sick fucks," he spat out. "You got some kind of torture kink? You won't get anywhere if I bleed out. Just stop alrea- OW! YOU MOTHERFUCKERS."

Corvo screamed again as the knife was harshly twisted and moved down. The angle of the blood spurts was larger, falling harshly.

Abbacchio ignored the screechings as he turned to Narancia. He expected the kid to look away in disgust, perhaps throw up. Instead, Narancia looked at the scene with indifference, not disturbed by the blood splattering everywhere.

Despite his lack of intelligence, Corvo was stubborn and refused to talk. Maybe an unexpected injury would trigger an answer.

"Hey Narancia," Abbacchio said. "Can you summon Aerosmith? A simple shot or two to his shoulder might make him talk."

Narancia jumped in excitement. Without answering Abbacchio, Aerosmith appeared. Angling itself in front of Corvo, a shot was fired directly into his shoulder.

"YOU CUNTS!" His screams were high in pitch. "WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?"

"One more," said Abbacchio.

Aerosmith fired another bullet. Corvo was covered in his own blood.

"FINE. FINE. Me and my buddies used to live here. We did light crime, robbing tourists who were dumb enough to pass through. One day a few weeks ago, one of your Passione buddies from another territory moved to Naples and tried to claim his place as his own. He took out all of my friends, so I took care of him. Fucker had it coming. This place is mine, I don't want anyone passing through. I'll kill anyone that dares to step foot in here!"

The team regarded Corvo's story with silence. The man was stupid thinking that he could kill everyone that entered his street without anyone taking notice.

But an answer was an answer. No matter what Corvo said, his end would always be at the hands of Team Bucciarati.

"So that's it huh," Abbacchio said with a sigh. "Your story is idiotic and boring, but it sounds truthful. Alright, let's finish this."

Before he could ask Fugo to summon Purple Haze, Corvo spoke.

"Your hands… they smell…"

"What the… what are you going on about?" Abbacchio asked, annoyed. "This isn't gonna save you."

"I have… a pretty good sense of smell. Always have. It's helped me a lot. When you… punched me, I could smell flowers from your hands. It was strangely fruitful. It's baby shampoo, isn't it?"

Abbacchio was never one to show his true emotions, but it took great effort not to appear shocked.

He bathed Liliana last night. The smell should have gone away. How did he…

"Hahahaha," Narancia giggled. "You gotta be kidding me. You're terrible at lying!"

"My nose… doesn't lie," Corvo answered. "You look pretty young to have a baby at home. I get needing to pay the bills, but you really go home everyday being a parent when you spilled so much blood during the day? Do you live peacefully like that? Imagine what your poor child thinks…"

"Shut the fuck up!" Abbacchio placed his foot on Corvo's head, pressing onto it. "You don't know shit."

"Oh? Have I triggered your paternal instincts? At least you have them. But how useful will they be when your precious child suffers because of your mafioso status?"

"Leave her out of this! Don't you dare threaten her! I will fucking kill you. I'll make you suffer til the end if you even try to hurt you."

Abbacchio was shaking. He was confident that everything he did in Passione would not be connected back to Liliana. Was that plan falling apart because of the peculiarly strong sense of smell of some random moron?

"If it's not me that hurts her, it will be someone else…"

"Shut the fuck up!" Abbacchio kicked him again. "Know your place! You disgusting scum!"

Corvo's face was bleeding in several areas. Both of his eyes were swollen and blood leaked from his mouth. Another kick or two would kill him, but Abbacchio was too panicked to notice. He didn't even notice the tears falling down his cheeks.

Liliana had not done anything wrong, and Abbacchio had done everything he could to protect her. She didn't deserve this. She was only five months old. It wasn't her fault that her only family was working for the mafia.

Had he doomed Liliana? Would his line of work lead to harm being placed upon her?

Not again. Someone in his life couldn't suffer because of his choices. He couldn't watch another person close to him die, especially her.

She was innocent, just like everyone else that came before her.

Liliana couldn't die. She couldn't. He couldn't live with himself if anything-

Gunfire suddenly echoed through the room.

Blinking away his tears, Abbacchio was surprised to see that Corvo's face was now unrecognizable. Bullet holes destroyed the structure of his face, each entry making the dead man look empty.

Abbacchio knew the source of the bullets. He looked at Narancia who was trembling and crying.

"Narancia…" Fugo whispered, his tone wobbling.

"I know you didn't tell me to, but he was…" Narancia shook his head as more tears fell. "You looked so upset, so angry and scared. I didn't want him to upset you more! I thought he was joking about the kid, but then you did… Abbacchio, you have a baby? A girl? I don't know if he was going to hurt her or not, but I couldn't watch anymore."

Abbacchio swayed unsteadily.

Passione couldn't know about Liliana. She does not need the pressure of the mafia life, the constant threat of death.

If anything happened to her, it would be his fault. He failed to protect her.

He promised that unlike before, he would fulfill the requirements of his job, he would be a good parent.

He was ruining another person's life, again.

"Lili," he cried to himself. "I'm sorry…"

Why was this repeating again? Why did innocent people have to suffer because of him?

Why did this renewing fate fall upon a baby?

"Abbacchio," softly spoke Fugo. "I know Bucciarati wants to hear from her about what happened, but… you need to go home. Go to Liliana, please. Me and Narancia will hide the body and clean up."

Abbacchio nodded, not looking at his teammates.

Without thought, his feet were moving. He eventually realized that he was running home. He wished he was quicker. He needed to know if Liliana was safe as soon as possible.

He needed to hold her, apologize to her for having him as her father.

He couldn't lose Liliana. His life would be over if it did.

Abbacchio would fall apart, break down, and cry for eternity.

Liliana, she had to be safe.

He would die if any harm happened to her.

He couldn't watch someone else suffer because of his mistakes.

He couldn't watch another family member die.

He couldn't be alone.

Liliana…

She had to be okay…

She was only a baby…

Lili.

Lili…

Please be okay.

Life cannot go on if she is hurt.

Liliana…

Please…