Niccolo Vitale

I walk the lonely streets of Detroit. I kick cracked pieces of asphalt, feeling just as battered.

My Dena. My baby.

Gone.

The night sky is brightened by the moon. These are mean streets, but it seems there's just enough light to chase the monsters back under the bed.

Well, all but one.

I came her for trouble. But it looks like I might have to cause some myself.

"L-Leave me alone!"

"C'mon pretty baby. Don't be shy."

"I think you're mixing shy and disgust."

A smirk tugs at the left side of my mouth. Not exactly what I was looking for, but I'll take it.

"Playing hard to get?"

"Not playing. I am hard to get. And I'm even harder to take. So keep moving."

Oooh, my damsel seems a little feisty. How...utterly interesting.

"Someone's feisty."

She stamps her feet childishly.

"What is it with guys and feisty? Does this look feisty to you?"

She pulls out pepper spray. Aw...

Adorable.

This guy's from 100. Pepper spray, is like pasta to him.

Enjoyable.

"Go ahead, try it."

Now, do I sit back and watch the show, or do I...help.

Helping isn't really the La Cosa Nostra's style, but perhaps I could make an exception. If she amuses me.

"Y-Y'know what? No. You seem too enthusiastic, and frankly it's a bit disconcerting."

I come around the corner, get eyes on the situation. I could take him down easy. But what to do with her.

If I take him out, she comes with me. I don't need that burden.

"Thanks, for helping me."

I close my eyes. There she is, dancing behind my eyelids, her sweet smile.

"it is my pleasure, signorina."

.

Not now!

"Scared?"

"Well, I'll put it this way: you are to roller coaster as...rose is to flower."

I chuckled lowly.

"What?"

"SATS. Pain in the ass I tell ya. Well, nice chat but I must be going byeeee!"

Is this fool really trying to run?

Ma, per certo.

She runs, her head turned back. When the man catches sight of me, he runs away.

I let her keep going. She bumps right into me. Now, is there an SAT question to prepare her for this test?

Who's more dangerous? Him?

Or me?

• • •

Manon

A big scary man, running from another big scary man. Great. Just great.

Come on Manon.

"U-Uh...thanks but I gotta—"

"Stay," His deep purring voice compelled me.

"How old are you?"

"Um...18?"

The man looked over my body. I'm not exactly curvy. I'm more flat that anything. But the way he was staring at me you'd think I was fuckin Jessica Rabbit.

"Do you know who I am," He licked his lips.

"No?"

He smirked. "Why don't you run on home, pulcino."

"Um...okay. Bye strange scary man!"

God help me, he almost ate me alive.

***

"Ma! Pop! I'm home!"

"Where have you been?"

Now what do I say? Oh well met a man who tried to rape me, then another man who was like a hot Italian bad wolf.

"Walking!"

"Alright then. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Great. I rush upstairs and call my best friend immediately.

"Manon why are you calling so late?"

"I almost got raped."

I hear her groan. "What have I told you about walking at night?!"

"No, it's okay. There was this hot Italian guy who saved me. In a way." I start over. "Now that I think of it, he more like...stood there all imposing and the other guy ran."

Jessie is silent at first. "Wait. Did you say...Italian?

"Oui."

Jessie groaned. "You are an idiot!

"Hey!" I exclaimed offended.

"Did he have any tattoos?"

I try to think. "It was too dark."

"Jerome told me that the 100 we're hosting the Vitale Family for a meeting. If you saw an Italian, chances are, he's part of the Vitale."

A mobster? Wonderful! Just what I needed!

I brush my teeth, wash my face, wrap up my hair and go to bed.

I try to sleep, but I can't get that man out of my head. He was so...so forlorn. There seemed to be a sad gleam in his eyes that twinkled even in the dark.

I wonder what his story was? Who had hurt him? Who had he lost?

Pushed away? Ma always tells me I'm far too interested in other people's stories to consider how they may impact my own.

But I'm a reporter, it's what I do. I get the story. Because stories are important. Stories tell us who we are and where we've been.  Where we're going.

My story?

I haven't really written one yet. Haven't lived long enough, I don't think. Right now, I'm on the prologue of my story.

And even though that man was probably a handful of years older than me, I knew he was probably at the crossroads in his.

Because sometimes, it's not about how long you've lived, it's about how much you've suffered.

Suffering has a way of ageing that even time can't touch.

I fall asleep wondering how old his pain is.

• • •

Thank you for reading everyone! I doubt this story will find success on this platform, since this is mostly manga, and even I’ve never read the novels here. But please support my story if you can!

Niccolò

I call my cousin.

"To what do I owe the pleasure," He starts.

"I founds the most interesting pet," he grunts. I rolled my eyes.

"Is that all she does? I swear every time I call, she's sucking your ****."

"Fuck, you just have really bad timing."

"Hey, Niccoló!"

"Hello, Savannah. Can you take a break please?"

"Sure!"

"Go on," Lucy curses.

I roll my eyes. "She's a cute little thing. Relatively young, but..."

"What's relatively young?" He asks.

"18."

"Merde! Stealing from the cradle, cugino?"

I chuckle, closing my eyes. "Maybe. She's legal. Very amusing. I could use a distraction."

Luciano goes quiet. "She's too young, Niccolò."

"She's legal."

"She must have a banging body for you to go after her like this.

I picture her. "No. She's flat. It's not really a sexual thing. She's just...amusing."

Her face is stuck in my head. She's an expressive little thing.

"Well, how do plan to get her?"

I look at her file.

"I'll ask her out tommorow. I should be able to convince her."

"Tell me again why you're pursing her."

I sigh. "I like her reactions. She's very colorful, expressive. She has enough life for the both of us."

He doesn't ask any more questions.

"Just don't hurt her, Nic."

I don't make any promises.

***

The next day I showed up at her door with some flowers.

She opened it, donning a huge sweater with Micky mouse on it, and some shorts, her hair up.

Then, she at me in wordless astonishment. It didn't last long-the wordless part.

"You...know where I live!" She grinned sheepishly. "That's not disconcerting at all. How can I help you?"

Damn, now that I think about, showing up at her door mat not have been the right thing to do after all.

"I came to ask you out,"

She stares at me blankly. "Why?"

Was not expecting that question.

"For the sake of taking you out," I reply.

She states at me some more. Her eyes rake my frame, settling on my eyes.

"Do you ever not wear a suit?"

"Rarely. "

"I figured. I'm sorry, what was you name?"

My name. Of course. I really didn't think that through.

I clear my throat. "I'm Niccoló."

"Niccoló..." She trails waiting for me to finish.

I don't wanna say Vitale. She seems like a smart girl, and it'll click right away if I do. In fact, she might already know who I am.

Still, I settle on...

"Bonaparte."

She crosses her arms giving me a skeptical look. "Niccoló Bonaparte."

"Sí," I stick with my lie.

"Are you French?"

No, I'm a terrible liar apparently.

"Does it matter?" My accent thickens as I get exasperated.

"I suppose not, Mr. Bonaparte." She stressed the name, letting me know she doesn't believe me a bit.

I just had to read a history book last night, didn't I.

"But I'm very busy. I'm sorry but I can't go out with you."

I nod. "Well, these flowers are still for you."

She takes them, smiling softly at me.

"They're beautiful," She says genuinely. "Thank you."

Once again, I nod. "I'll see you around."

"You never asked my name," She called after me.

I stop. "What's your name."

She does that soft smile. "I'm Manon."

A small smile struggled to the surface.

"I'll see you around Manon."

I walk back to my waiting car, smiling slightly.

The driver stares at me in the rearview mirror.

"Where to Capo?"

I look out the window. "Anywhere but home."

Niccolò Vitale

Luciano and I stood watching the dance floor, elbows on the railing. My eyes were drawn to one girl in particular who was wearing a short dress that obviously was not hers, based on uncomfortably she seemed with the length of it-or rather the lack of it.

Every five seconds or so, she'd pull It down, and glare at the fabric when it didn't stay at her knees. I watched her cautiously eye every man who got near her, as her friend tried to coerce her into dancing.

The girl would shake her head emphatically, say something inaudible, and scoot back to the bar.

Luciano was not happy.

"She's a...kid, Niccolò."

I watch her as I answer nonchalantly. "I told you, I find her innocence intriguing."

He scoffs. "You mean you want to corrupt her."

I shoot him a look, grinning wickedly. "Oh, as much I possibly can."

He throws his hands up in defeat.

"Dio mio, cugino."

(My God, cousin)

I shrug. He asked.

"So will you go and talk to her, and just stay here like a pedophile and watch her?"

I glare at him from the corner of my eye.

"Actually, this is just a coincidence. I called you here for him," I nod in the subjects direction.

Luciano's eyes quickly follow my lead, finding the man who had been trying to talk to her all night.

"I know you weren't that creepy."

I quirk a brow at him in silent question, go which he nods sadly. "Sí, you are that creepy aren't you."

I simply sigh. "I haven't decided what to do. I wanted your advice."

Luciano's sips his Henessesy blissfully. He doesn't drink at home anymore on account of the kids.

He also rarely leaves his home now, so he rarely drinks.

"I gave you the position because I thought you could handle it, cugino."

"And I can," I insist. "But I want your opinion. Is that so wrong?"

He rolls his eyes. "What do you think you should do?"

I eye the man again. "Get rid of him before he becomes a bigger problem."

"How long have you suspected he might be against the take over?"

"Since it began," The man reaches out to touch her-Manon. She moves away from his hand, and scoots over a seat, much to my amusement.

"Then do what you think is best. I'm sure you will make a good decision."

He's useless.

"Go home to your wife, Lucy. I've got some work to do."

He glares at me. "You may be Capo now, but you still don't tell me what to do."

Although we both know he's going to leave anyway, he's so hard headed, that he'll stay an extra 30 minutes, just to prove I'm not the boss of him.

Childish ass. "Fine. Stay here. Leave, I don't care."

"I will," He hollers at my back.

I shake my head, rolling my eyes.

• • •

Manon

This guy will not give up, will he?

“C'mon baby girl,” He smirked, “Come home with me.”

I wiggle away from him. “No thank you,” I decline for the 43rd time tonight. “I'm okay.”

“I know you like me,” He insisted.

At this point I'm about to call security. This is ridiculous. How did I let Terry talk me into this?

“Sir,” A man with an accent in a suit calls to the guy who's been harassing me all night.

He frowns. “Who are you?”

The man cleared his throat. “We have some business together. If you'd take a walk with me—”

“I don't got no business with—”

“Your boss wants to see you,” The suited man emphatically states. That makes the creep stop his sentence.

“Fine." he turns to me. “Later gorgeous.”

I give him a disgusted look saying nothing. With that, he leaves with suited man, who is either so big I can see his hard on through his suit, or is carrying a gun.

Honestly, either one of those options are feasible.

Speaking of which...a strong body pressed up against me. He was faces and the bar while I was facing away from thee bar.

“Ah, Manon, how lovely to here.”

I look up, my eye catching his. Niccoló's.

“Is it just me, or are you happy to see me?” I ask dryly.

He grins, his pearly whites on display. “It's my gun.”

Color drained from my face. “No chance you're a police officer is it?”

He shook his head emphatically.

“No, but would you feel better if I told you I had a permit?”

“I'd feel better if you showed me your permit.”

Again, he grinned at me, taking out his wallet. He fished a card out and showed it to me.

Huh, well what do you know? He has a permit for a concealed carry.

Doesn't exactly feel me with the upmost confidence, but it does help a bit.

“Feel better, pulchino?”

“Not really,” I answer honestly, “But I do appreciate the effort."

He motions for the bartender to get him a drink.

“What are doing in a place like this, with a dress like that, pulchino?”

I glare at him indignantly. “What's that suppose to mean?”

He shrugs, picking up his drink. “You seem like the type of girl who wears sweatshirts, and reads quietly for fun. It's obvious you don't own that dress, because you keep uncomfortably pulling down. You also don't seem like the type to pay for a dress you don't like.”

He looks back at me. “But I could be wrong. What do I know?”

He's... exactly right. He winks at me, making me look away.

“No, you're right. This isn't really my scene.”

“If it isn't your scene, I would choose another one.” He sets down his drink and a twenty dollar bill.

“I'll see you around pulchino.”

And with that he leaves. So I'm dumbfounded, sitting there going over what the hell just happened.

“Can I get a Coke?”

I pull out my card to pay, but the bartender puts out his hand to stop me. “It's paid for.”

I don't even have to ask who.

What do you think so far? Thanks for reading!