"Don Marsalis, if you would follow me," a young brunette with a large scar on her neck led Marcello and two of his men into a two-story house.

She walked down an unusually long corridor and eventually stopped at a door, "If you would just go in, I'll bring my brother."

Marcello opened the door and acknowledged the large, dark room, only illuminated by old fashioned lights hanging from the ceiling. The table was long with an inordinate amount of chairs on either side, the walls painted a dark red and without any windows.

"Don Marsalis," a toned man walked into the room, the same brunette trailing after him.

"You are?" Marcello had changed over the 6 months as well.

He was larger - if that were even possible - Marcello was more built, and his hair had grown longer, hair rugged and his face often showed a little bit of stubble. The only emotion that he ever expressed was anger, and that was almost all the time, everyone irritated him to no end, and he missed Bambina so much.

"I am Ryan Devall, Don of Dead Royal," the man responded, back straight as he stared into Marcello's eyes - challenging him.

"Men," with Marcello's one word, his men swiftly pushed Ryan into one of the chairs and bound him in it tightly, they did the same to the girl before standing faithfully beside their Don.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Ryan growled, glaring at Marcello.

"You and your men have been messing up with my dealings, who the fuck do you think you are?" Marcello shot Ryans thigh, causing the latter to grit his teeth in pain.

"We didn't do that." Ryan struggled against his binds.

"Then who the fuck did?" Marcello lifted his gun again, but then changed his aim and shot at the girl's shoulder, eliciting a loud scream to come from her.

"I don't fucking know!" Ryan yelled, looking at the girl in worry.

Getting too frustrated, Marcello shot Ryan's head, killing him, and the girl gasped loudly.

There was a knock at the door, and Marcello's men answered it after he gave them a nod.

At the door was a short woman, she wore a loose grey dress and joggers at her feet. Her brown hair was in a tight bun and she wore a mask to cover her face.

This woman had a large protruding bump on her abdomen, making it painfully obvious that she was very pregnant.

"Release the girl," the woman spoke in a deep voice - clearly not her actual voice, with hands on her hip.

"I killed your Don, you have no power over me" Marcello scowled at the woman.

It seemed as if only then did she notice the slumped over body on the chair, "He's not our Don, but if you release the girl, I will take you to him. I thought you would want to do this the easier way, and just work it out without the help of our real Don, but apparently not." The woman responded, unfazed.

Nodding at his men, they unbound the girl and held her by her forearms, ready to follow their Don, "Lead the way," Marcello grunted and the woman nodded before turning around, not scared at all in the case of Marcello shooting her with her back turned.

"How do I know you're not just tricking me," his deep voice broke the silence of their footsteps as she led them up some stairs.

"You're just going to have to trust me," shrugging simply, Marcello noticed that she hobbled when she walked, her hand clutching the banister as she made her way up the stairs.

Upon reaching up the stairs, there was a double door in the middle, two doors either side of it, she walked into the double doors.

This room was bare, besides from the whole wall of windows at the far wall and a cheap desk with an accompanying swivel chair in the middle of the room. The room's walls were covered in men as they watched dutifully. The woman went and sat on the desk, leaning back as she took a deep breath, subconsciously rubbing her belly.

"Where is your Don?" Marcello began to grow impatient.

"I'm the Don," Marcello was sure the woman was grinning.

"Then why are you hiding your face like a coward?" Marcello raised his gun and the men standing at the walls raised theirs as well, aiming it at him.

Flicking her wrist, her men put their guns down, "Me? A coward?" She laughed, the laugh sounding very familiar to Marcello.

"Yes, a coward" Marcello repeated, annoyed.

She gestured for one of her men to come forward, "Anthony, would I shoot you in the head?" She looked at her nails.

"If you felt like it, yes." Was his reply and she waved him off.

She gestured again, "Lewis, would I think twice before gutting you in front of your family?"

"If you wanted to, yes." She giggled and called another forward as Lewis took a step back.

"Michael, would I reach down your throat and take your heart out and feed it to your children while keeping you alive somehow to watch?"

"If you felt that the situation called for it, yes." He stepped back into his position.

Marcello stood amazed, no doubt in his mind that the second and third declaration would not sit well with his men if he said that to them, "What are you trying to prove?" He rolled his eyes, seemingly unamused.

"That I am not a coward." She clapped her hands together.

"That won't stop me from shooting your brains out and smearing it all over those clean windows of yours, pregnant or not," he growled as she began to untie her smooth brown hair.

"Do it... I dare you," she sat back in her leant forward in her chair a bit, untying the mask on her face, her straight brown hair falling smoothly behind the back of the chair.

Right before he was about to pull the trigger, the mask came off and familiar brown eyes stared at him, a soft, cheeky smile playing on her pink lips.

"Bambi," the hand with the gun dropped to his side as he paused, "you're pregnant."