Vito

Lantana
Worker’s District
Apartment Room 12B

Vito sighed as he leaned over the balcony railing. He needed some time alone to think, and since the party was over, he decided to take advantage of the opportunity.

Looking out, he had a nice view of most of Lantana, or at least The Worker’s District. He could see the various apartments, all as large as the one he was in. To the left was the Legione district and to the far right were various large and vast fields where people from the Workers District went to work.

Though each field was separated from the other, and consisted of different species of berries, specifically, different species of Grepa berries, the greenery being grown was all going to be used for one thing—wine.

“I figured you’d be asleep by now, dear boy,” Giuseppe called from afar. “What seems to be the matter?”

Vito’s heart skipped a beat as Giuseppe’s voice pulled him from his thoughts and he turned his head to the elderly man, “Nothing, old man,” he smiled weakly.

“Vito, I know when something is bothering you,” Giuseppe chuckled as he walked towards the balcony. “But if you don’t feel comfortable sharing with me, that is fine.”

“No, it’s not that.” Vito sighed. “Something happened when I entered town and it’s still on my mind…do you remember that guy I texted you about?”

“Mmm, Hawthorne, yes?” Giuseppe asked. “You said he was teaching you. Did something happen?”

“I told him not to interact with the Legion, and he went up to Enzo and messed with him and it just…”

He swallowed hard. The intense burning rage that had swelled within him returned, though it lasted for only a brief second as he breathed deeply through the nose and exhaled. Being angry wouldn’t do him any good now, seeing as how what transpired with Emile and Enzo ended hours ago.

“Mm. It is fair to be upset over it, especially with what you’ve been through.” Giuseppe replied, leaning over the balcony railing beside Vito. “Does he know about what all you’ve gone through?”

Vito shook his head.

“If you’re going to travel with this man, perhaps it's best to tell him,” Giuseppe advised. “That being said, you also don’t have to travel with him. You wanted to at first, but you can also travel alone.”

“I know…” Vito sighed.

Giuseppe stepped closer to the boy and placed his hand on Vito’s shoulder. “Do what you are comfortable with, child. Don’t let anyone get in the way of your goals,” he continued before turning away.

“I will… thanks, Giuseppe.” Vito smiled.

“Of course, Vito. Goodnight.”

---

Emile

Lantana
Legione District

Emile loved bars.

Bars were wonderful places. You got drinks there, you met people, and there was the possibility you could get something better than gold—information. Most bartenders had it, even if they didn’t know it. Simple things like information about the land, the latest rumor around town, and who’s dating who could be considered either potentially useful at least or important at most.

Oh, and there was the chance a cute guy or a pretty girl was tending the bar—kind of like right now.

Emile’s eyes were somewhat focused on the bartender, an older woman with long brown hair tied up in a bun, her cold gray eyes more focused on the door than her patrons. What had caught his attention was the Pokeball peeking out from her coat pocket. Surprisingly, there wasn’t a Pokemon out, not to guard the bar nor to assist her.

He diverted his gaze to his glass, frowned, then looked back at the bartender. "Excuse me, miss? Could you refill this?"

The bartender turned her head towards Emile. Her eyes were still cold, and she looked at her patron with an emotionless gaze. She said nothing as she approached Emile and pulled out a bottle from underneath the bar. “Signore,” she spoke with a thick Enotrian accent. “Isn’t this your third drink?” Her voice was smooth as sandpaper, her tone calm and quiet. 

Hearing her speak made the hairs on Emile’s body stand up, and he could feel himself grinning from ear to ear like an idiot, mixed with a sense of warmth bursting from his chest. Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, or perhaps it was because he was, in fact, an idiot.

“Probably.” Emile smiled. “But I traveled a long way from Kalos. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying myself after a long trip, no?”

“Hmm… fair enough,” the bartender said. “So, tell me. What are you doing so far from home?”

“Just delivering something for my old man,” Emile said as he took the glass and put it to its lips, drinking the cold whiskey. The liquid tasted awful, and it burned his throat as it went down, but it was a feeling he had grown used to. Then, he placed it down. “So, miss uh…”

“Ombretta.” The bartender introduced herself.

“Ombretta!” Emile chuckled. “How long have you been here?”

“Mmm… truth be told, I don’t actually live here in Lantana. This bar is one of many I manage throughout Graecia,” she explained. “But I’ve been doing my business here for almost a decade, give or take.”

“Really?” Emile asked. “So you must know uh… a lot about the Legione here, yeah? They kinda interest me; I hear about ‘em online.”

Yeah, he was lying through his teeth here but so what? He had to get his information somehow from this stunning, stoic woman, and maybe he’d get-

No, bad Emile. Information first, flirting later… maybe.

“Yes. In fact, my bar is protected by The Legione.” Ombretta smiled. That was probably the first smile she gave Emile, and it was so soft and small that it made his heart skip a beat. 

Emile couldn’t help but lean forward as he looked at the pale bartender, all with a stupid grin on his face. “Really? So you probably know a lot, don’t you?”

“Of course! I could answer anything you have to ask, Signore…?” Ombretta smiled, raising a brow as she realized that her patron never gave his name.

“Ah, my bad. My name is Emile Hawthorne,” he introduced himself. “Anyways, I hear all sorts of things… apparently they’re aligned with the Enotrian Mob?”

“The Legione? Aligned with the mafia?” Ombretta asked. “Please,” she scoffed. “Besides, there is no such thing as an ‘Enotrian Mob.’ Too many Unovan films have influenced the public.”

“Well, perhaps you can give me a history lesson… elsewhere?” Emile grinned, but a second later, he realized that might have not been the best words to say.

Smooth, Emile. Smooth.

“Mmm, unfortunately for you, I am more than content to give it to you here.” Ombretta smirked.

Whether she was bothered by the suggestion or not, it didn’t exactly show on her face. Nevertheless, she leaned forward against the bar and began to speak.

“The Legione has been investing in businesses since they eradicated the Rocket presence here in Enotria—money, protection, and even supplies.” Ombretta informed him. “They’re the reason I have this bar.”

“So, what’s the deal with the mob allegations?” Emile questioned as he lifted his glass.

“Rubbish from Gallia,” Ombretta spat and shook her head. “The politicians up in Capitoline have held The Legione with disdain since The Rocket War, and one day, a few measly Legionnaires were committing crimes- of course, The Legione disavowed their actions and said they were no longer in the organization, but The League hasn’t let it go.”

Over one little incident? It seemed that Gallia wasn’t all that forgiving.

“Besides, if The Legione were so bad, then the politicians in Graecia would not support them, and they certainly would not be defending The Siculian Islands,” Ombretta stated.

Even politicians supported The Legione? Now that was rather surprising.

“The Siculian Islands, huh? Tell me about them-”

“Mummy?” 

It was a voice that came from afar, and hearing it made Emile’s skin crawl. When he looked around for where the voice was coming from, he saw a teenage boy dressed in black standing at a staircase from behind the bar. His skin was white as snow, and he had long black hair with crimson highlights and wide red eyes.

Emile felt something squirm underneath and immediately put his foot down. Chevalier had been hiding within his shadow, and his Ceruledge knew that something was off about this brat, but he didn’t need her squirming underneath to know that.

As Emile looked at those wide, red eyes all he saw was an appetite for slaughter. They weren’t the eyes of a human but of a monster, and as the trainer watched that thing grin so wide that it could match a Haunter’s, he found his suspicions to be proven true.

“Can I go out and play?” The thing asked Ombretta.

“Of course,” Ombretta smiled. “Don’t stay out too late though, got it?”

“I should get going as well,” Emile said as he swiftly stood up, placed a couple of twenty-dollar bills onto the bar, and took his glass. He downed the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, allowing the burning sensation to hopefully calm his nerves, and walked towards the door. “Thank you for the drinks, Ms. Ombretta.”

He didn’t bother to hear her reply as he walked out of the bar. He wasn’t dealing with that lady anymore, hell no. If Chevalier of all Pokemon was squirming, something was up. More than likely, that thing was a Pokemon, a Zoroark, to be specific, and a vicious one at that.

“I don’t think she was my type… what do you think?” Emile looked down and asked.

There was no response, of course, but he decided to take it as her agreeing with him.

As he walked forward, Emile cursed himself. He found himself starting to stumble, and he started looking around the streets of Lantana. Maybe he had too many drinks… but maybe he had gotten something good out of it?

“Ah, excuse me, Signore!” Emile heard from behind.

Emile swallowed hard. He wasn’t feeling Chevalier squirming, but the trainer certainly felt his heart race. He turned around and soon found himself looking at an old man wearing a set of farmer’s overalls. In his hand was a large bottle.

“Care for a drink?” The old man asked.

As Emile looked at the bottle of what appeared to be alcohol, he took a second to think about the stranger and finally decided…

Perhaps he wasn’t bad.

---

Belle

Lantana
Pokemon Center

The room was quiet, Belle observed as she casually flicked through channels. She held the remote up with her psychic powers and sighed from the lack of interesting shows. Currently, she was trying to find a news channel of some kind, preferably world news rather than regional news.

She didn’t exactly care for human affairs. Human politics were quite peculiar to her and not worth her time, but as long as she was traveling with Emile, she felt it prudent to be well-informed about the world. If anything were to happen that affected him, then it would certainly affect her and the rest of her family.

Belle glanced to the side, eyeing Frère, who was lying on the bed curled up into a ball beside Eevee. The former had tired out the latter with constant playing, surprising given that the room was so small and cluttered with furniture that it could barely fit two people.

“Frère,” Belle called out. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

Glaceon raised his head and blinked.

“For two years, Emile hadn’t interacted with us much,” she started off. “Seeing as how you have always been his trusted confidant, I would like to know why.”

“Why don’t you ask him this yourself?” Frère questioned. “Better yet, read his mind. You’re a psychic.”

The words were blunt and to the point, but Belle did not take offense to this. Frère had been like this since he had evolved within Kalos’ frosty caverns. He was calm, blunt, and to the point when discussing important topics, and he didn’t smile much unless he was messing with Emile or playing with someone.

“I would like your perspective. I fear he would try to hide things from me,” Belle said.

“These things are not mine to share, oh sister of mine,” Frère replied. “But… you’re right. He would try to hide things from you, and he more than certainly would not tell.”

“So, what do you know?” Belle crossed her arms.

“That he hates himself for not being there for Epee,” Frère said. “But that’s obvious, you see it too. I mean, you’re an empath after all.”

Belle narrowed her eyes and nodded, and she patiently waited for Glaceon to get to the point.

“He also thinks he failed us. You, me, Goyl, etcetera etcetera. He thinks he’s betrayed us by not being there.” Frère flicked an ear. “Mind you, we were out competing and having a grand ol’ time in Kanto while Epee was ya know… dying. I would guess that he feels like a…what do humans say? Piece of shit?”

“But he didn’t!” Belle shouted. “He was out, wanting to fulfill his dreams and he-”

“Watched us all get clobbered by some guy in a red cap, and after that, he found out that the first Pokemon he ever caught died of natural causes, and he wasn’t there for her,” Frère interrupted. “Trust me when I say he isn’t able to forgive himself, and the beatdown he received didn’t do him any favors. You saw how he was, didn’t you? I recall you tried talking to him and brought up a rather… displeasing topic.”

Belle’s hands curled up into fists, and she found herself wanting to strangle the very air. Adrenaline coursed through her body, and she could feel the psychic and fae energies build from beneath her feet.

“Why are you doing this all for a woman who has been dead for years?” Belle had remembered asking Emile.

She remembered the anger he radiated, the sheer rage that had built up within him that day. It was intense enough that Belle hadn’t looked into Emile’s mind. Hell, she was certain that he didn’t want to see her again.

Yet she remained regardless. After all, where was she supposed to go? Her entire life had been spent with Emile. So, she stayed… and the next time she saw him, he was the equivalent of a corpse, emotionally. His emotions reeked with self-loathing and sadness, and he barely gave anyone any eye contact.

She swallowed hard and breathed deeply to calm herself down.

“For what it’s worth… I’m sorry,” Frère looked down.

Belle raised her brows and looked into Glaceon’s mind. This was the first time he had ever truly apologized for anything throughout the many years they spent together, and she found herself going through his thoughts, only to find out he was, in fact, telling the truth.

“I figured this would have been like what happened after Galar,” he admitted. “You remember, right? We were defeated by that uh…”

“Raihan,” Belle said. “We were defeated by a dragon master named Raihan, and Emile vowed to go on a break—a ‘Journey of Self Discovery,’ he said.”

“Yes, something like that. But… that’s not the case anymore,” Frère said. “I just thought he needed time alone, but instead, he spent that time poisoning himself or engaging in rather unsettling activities.” 

Belle watched as Frère’s face contorted, and he visibly shuddered at the rather… obscene memories that she saw appear in Frère’s mind. She immediately stopped peeking. Some things were never meant to be seen, after all.

“So, what now?” Belle asked.

“I don’t know,” Frère sighed. “I intend on sticking by Emile’s side until the end, whether he likes it or not… but you and everyone else have genuine grievances. Things that you can either address with him, or not. Hell, if you wish to leave, I wouldn’t blame you.”

Belle narrowed her eyes. “I have no intention of leaving.”

It was clear to Belle her trainer needed help. She wasn’t sure if she could forgive Emile’s actions, but she understood that there was a good chance that he would destroy himself for something that was never his fault, to begin with. 

“What a shame. You know, I remember when Emile brought you into the fold, he gave you more attention than he did me.” Frère smirked. “I was hoping he’d go back to giving me all the praise I deserve…”

“Praise? Please, Frère. A newborn Pansear could take you out with a single Ember. The fact that you’re more fragile than glass is hardly praiseworthy,” Belle scoffed. “If I were to bring forth a tiny flame, you would melt from the heat.”

“Oh? I suppose being beaten by a Grimer’s residue is much better,” Frère chuckled. “Perhaps you should be put in your ball, oh sister of mine, the polluted air outside might make you nauseous. The last thing we need is you throwing up on poor Emile.”

Both Frère and Belle smiled, and they soon found themselves laughing amongst each other.

Belle hadn't interacted with Frere in so long... seeing that hhe was still the same relieved her greatly. It was a rather nice feeling.

Her eyes suddenly widened, and she turned her head towards the door. She could feel another person’s presence through her very core. After all, how could she forget-

“I’m baacckk!” Emile Hawthorne called out in a sing-song voice as he opened the door and immediately fell onto the ground, laughing.

Belle’s eyes widened, and she blinked several times before slowly turning her head to meet Frère’s gaze.

“Congratulations, you’re seeing Emile drunk for the first time in your life,” Frère said

. “I do not apologize for what will happen next.”

“What will happen next?” Belle asked before turning her head back to her trainer.

“Belle!” Emile shouted as he suddenly got up and immediately charged at her, wrapping the Gardevoir in a tight hug. “Gosh, I mished you sho much!”

His words came out slurred, and he stumbled onto the bed while he held Belle in his arms.

This was wrong, she thought. Why was he so happy? This wasn’t how the human mind worked! You can’t just simply go from being depressed to… whatever this was!

“Emile…” She reached out telepathically. “Eevee’s asleep.”

Emile got up from the bed and looked around. Seeing that she was telling the truth, he scrambled around and looked for Eevee’s Pokeball and quickly returned him, and then looked around the room.

“Why… is it so fucking HOT?” he shouted as he kicked the door shut, then turned back to Frère and Belle.

“Why is he like this?” Belle asked.

“Alcohol,” Frère said. “Have fun! I’m glad I’m not the victim.”

Both Frère and Belle watched as Emile unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it onto the floor, then walked towards Frère.

“Frère… itsh… time you fulfill your one true purpose,” he declared.

“Oh no, please not me,” Frère barked and stepped back on the bed. His eyes were wide with fear, but before he could flee, he was tackled by his trainer.

“Holy shit, you’re so cold! You’re the best pillow ever!” Emile cried as he pulled Frère close, and rested his head onto the ice type’s body. “I should have done this years ago.”

“Please… help me,” Frère pleaded to Belle as he squirmed in Emile’s tight grip. “This isn’t how I was supposed to go out! Emile was supposed to die before me!”

“Whatsh he shaying, Bellee?” The drunken Emile slurred.

“He’s saying that he loves you very much and is happy to be your pillow,” Belle replied with a smirk.

“Traitor!” Frère cried. “I’ll remember this, Belle!”

“What’s wrong? You said you were jealous of all the attention I received, I’m just making sure you feel loved and appreciated,” Belle smiled as she moved to a nearby chair and leaned back, crossing her arms and then looking away.

“This is not love, this is not love!” Frère cried.

Belle knew that Emile displayed his affection through physical means. He commonly hugged the Pokemon on his team, if it was possible, but this was taking it to a whole new level. That being said, watching Frère’s suffering was amusing, to say the very least.

“Waaaiiitttt a minute!” Emile shouted as he released Frère. “There’s someone else I need to see…”

Belle watched as he stepped off the bed and lightly taped the floor with his foot.

“C’mooonn, get up. Up up up up…” He demanded to the shadow below him.

And so, Chevalier arose from the depths below, clad in her violet-blue armor. Her swords burned with blue fire, though she diverted her blades away from the surrounding furniture and began to look around the room.

She did not speak, but Belle wasn’t surprised. Chevalier did not speak often, and Belle could count the number of times she did on her fingers.

“Chevalier!” Emile cried as he outstretched his arms. “Hug.”

Chevalier shook her head.

“Why not?” Emile asked.

Chevalier looked down at her arms and then back at Emile.

“Ohhh…” He nodded as he stared at the burning blades for arms. “Yeah, that makesh shome shense…” he slurred and scratched his chin.

Belle’s heart sank into her stomach as she saw Chevalier bow her head down. She outstretched a hand forward, but before she could even try to comfort her comrade, Emile had stepped forward.

“Hey, hey, hey!” He cried as he cupped her cheeks with his hands. “Don’t be up…upset, alright?” Emile asked though he continued to slur his words. “I’m not disappointed in you at all… I love you.” He continued as he drunkenly looked around the room. “I love you all.” At that moment, he stepped toward his bed and fell face-first in it… and minutes later, sounds like a rumbling mountain came from Emile.

Belle softly smiled as she stepped toward Emile and gently touched his back.

His body was well developed by human standards. Years of exercising and traveling across the globe had honed it, and while he was thin, he was far from unhealthy as he had an athletic build perfect for his body. Looking further, Belle noticed the numerous scars that covered his back, the most notable being a set of burns on the upper right side of his back.

Her desire to stay strengthened, and Belle swore she would help Emile.

Until the end.

---

Lantana
Worker’s District
Apartment Room 12B

Vito yawned as he got out of bed. His room came to life, and although his eyes felt heavy, he was greeted by his cracked ceiling and the soft fur of Pikachu, who was by his side. As he felt his partner’s fur, he lightly pulled the electric mouse a little closer, wrapping him in a gentle embrace.

“I don’t wanna get up…” He yawned again.

Camping might have been nice, but Vito had missed his warm bed, even if his bed had a mattress that probably should have been replaced years ago. It was a lot comfier than the tent he had slept in the night prior, that was for sure.

“Piii…” Pikachu softly squeaked and opened his eyes, then began to squirm and soon pulled himself out of his trainer’s gentle hug.

“Nooo…” Vito complained. “Come back, Pikachu.”

Pikachu replied by squeaking and slapping the back of Vito’s head lightly.

“I don’t wanna get up…”

Pikachu growled, and once again slapped Vito’s head.

Vito replied with a loud grunt and turned his head away from his furry friend. Though when he did, adrenaline soon shot through his body as intense heat emanated from Pikachu's cheeks. The sound of electricity crackling and popping filled the air as he jolted into motion.

“I’m up!” Vito shouted as he sprung out of bed. “I’m up, I promise!”

Pikachu laughed and ceased charging his electricity. A smirk appeared on his face as he reigned his superiority over Vito.

Vito jabbed his finger at his partner. “Hey, you keep looking at me like that and we’ll never watch Sergeant Pikachu and Friends again.”

Pikachu’s eyes widened, and he let out a horrified and defeated gasp. He shook his head and began to squeak.

“That’s what I thought!” the trainer said with a triumphant huff, then sighed.

He was up now, what next? He found himself scratching the back of his head in thought until his gaze turned towards his nightstand, where he saw his Poryphone. He grabbed it, an idea slowly coming to his head.

Vito began to put on his clothes, throwing on his white T-shirt and a pair of blue shorts. “C’mon, Pikachu,” Vito called out. “I think I know what we’re gonna do today.”

Pikachu immediately latched onto Vito’s shoulder as soon as his trainer was dressed, letting out a cheerful squeak as he rode on his back.

The two exited his room and entered the kitchen. Seeing as how nobody was around, Giuseppe and Miranda were most likely at work, leaving Vito and Pikachu the only ones left alone in the apartment.

“Alright, so! First things first, we have five Pokeballs… and I’m gonna use one to catch our first friend for our journey!” Vito declared as he set his Poryphone down on the kitchen table, though as he did he saw a note beside his phone.

He raised a brow and lifted the note up first and began to read it…

“Vito,” it started off. “If you are reading this then I have gone back to work. I just wanted to let you know that I’m proud of you. Before you continue your journey, I ask that you try to communicate with your friend. You’ll meet many people in your journey, dear boy. Some may be difficult to deal with, and some may be wonderful people in your life. However, if you truly value your friends you will try and communicate with them.”

Vito swallowed hard as he remembered the events of the other day. His “spat,” if you could call it that, with Emile weighed heavily on his mind. The older trainer never appeared upset, but he had seen Emile as this calm and stoic figure who dealt with a lot.

Some angry kid like him was nothing more than a nuisance, right?

He continued to read the note.

“I never had any children of my own, you see. However, if I had a son I would have wanted him to be exactly like you. You are a good boy, Vito, and I am so very proud of you. When you come back, I will know you have come back as a good man.”

“Buana Fortuna, -Giuseppe.”

Vito swallowed hard and sniffled. He could feel his heart pound beneath his chest as he read the rest of the note, and tears began to swell in his eyes.

“That fucking old man,” Vito managed to utter out with a smile on his face. He turned his head towards his phone and opened up his Pokedex app, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Hey, Pikachu?”

Pikachu squeaked and stood on the table at attention.

“What do you think about Emile? Do you think he’s a good guy?”

The electric type tilted his head, clearly asking Vito why he was asking.

“I guess I find myself thinking about what happened… I kinda went off on him and I really shouldn’t have.” He admitted. “He’s done nothing but help us, even though he almost killed us.” Vito chuckled as he thought about Emile’s Ceruledge.

That settled it, Vito thought as he picked up his phone.

“Change of plans, Pikachu!” Vito announced as he put his phone into his pocket and grabbed his partner who swiftly crawled onto his shoulder. “First stop is the Pokemon Center, after that… we’re gonna get our first catch of the day!”

---

Ombretta

Ombretta Luna sighed as she picked up her ringing cellphone. The bartender had such a long night, and she wanted to sleep… though, truth be told she wanted to sleep all the time. It was one of the few “past times” she genuinely enjoyed.

She heard the cackling beneath her feet, mockery over the fact that she was forced to stay up and deal with someone who oh-so desperately needed her aid.

“Shut it, you.” She stomped her boot onto the ground below. “I don’t need to hear your constant laughing.”

Underneath her was her shadow of course, though strangely, this shadow had a wide grin on its face. She wasn’t worried, though. This “wide grin” belonged to her Gengar after all, and he had become one of her closest companions while he acted as her bodyguard, though he had his moments when he could be a pain in the neck.

She flipped open her old PokeGear, raised a brow as she saw “Capitano Frederico Greco” as the caller, and pressed the answer button.

“Capitano,” Ombretta coldly said. She didn’t hate the man, but when he called, she was damn certain that there was trouble to follow.

“Colonnello Luna,” Greco replied. “I’ve had one of my men call me. He’s requesting the use of Mike Uniform.”

She raised a brow. Very rarely did Greco request use of such “special” units; surely he had a good reason for asking this of her, and for wasting her time. “What for?” She asked.

“I have a job for one of them. We need someone to… go away. Someone who I believe to be a considerable problem.” Greco informed.

“Let me guess, a man with long black hair from Kalos? Asking questions about The Legione?” Ombretta said with a rather exasperated tone. Thinking about that man made her sick. He had reeked of liquor, and she found his flirting to be rather disgusting; if he had to go, then she wouldn’t have any complaints.

“Correct, ma’am. We need him to go, ASAP. He has ties to the International Police,” Greco explained, who ignored his superior’s rather irritated tone.

Ombretta clicked her tongue. She hated it when conundrums like this popped up, but, that’s why she had people specifically trained to take care of it.

“I’ll call the Unit leader and discuss the problem with him. Emile Hawthorne is our ‘problem’s’ name, yes?” The Colonnello questioned.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m already working on a report. It will be delivered to you in the next hour,” Greco replied.

“Va bene. I’ll have my men keep an eye on Mr. Hawthorne. For now, stand down and don’t do anything stupid. It’s bad enough that our ‘partners’ in Bellissimo Mare made a mess, we can’t have any more heat on us.” Ombretta commanded.

“Understood, I’ll inform our boys to keep away from Hawthorne.” Greco informed.

Ombretta hung up the phone and sighed.

She hated days like these.

---