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They stayed in that position for a few more minutes before Marcello reluctantly rose.Β 

He noticed Bambina had dried tear stains on her face and he couldn't help but bring his hand up to wipe them away.

Standing up straight again, he moved to the other side of the desk, observing the pregnant beauty as she sat with a look of indifference.

"How?" He slouched his shoulders, watching her every move.

"I don't think you want to know," she replied, licking her lips and placing her palms flat on the table as she clicked her fingers.

Her men began to walk back into the room, lining up against the wall in even intervals. They stood looking at nothing, neither their Donna nor the visiting Don.

"I think I do," he straightened his back, now looking impossibly tall.

She only tilted her head in reply, "So you came here to have a friendly discussion, would you like to begin?"

"Your men are messing with my dealings." He was quick to get to the point.

"And I can tell you with absolute surety that they are not, I have never ordered for that to happen," she smiled, looking like the innocent girl that he had met all those months ago.

"And how do you know that they aren't going behind your back?" He challenged, taking a step forward towards the desk.

Bambina let out a loud laugh as she moved to tie her hair back, "That may be the funniest thing I've heard today. NoneΒ of my men would betray me."

"And why not?"

"My gang is my family, and I don't just use that word loosely. I would die for them, and they would die for me, not because of some initiation or omerta. We would die for each other because I am their sister and they are my siblings and as much as someone hates their siblings, they would do anything for them. They don't do what I say purely because they're afraid of what I'll do. They do what I askΒ because they trust me to do what's best for the rest of the family, and they trust that I value their lives, which I do, I value it above my own.

"Each one of them," she gestures to the people against the wall, "are my friends, I know them personally. I know everyone in my familyΒ personally. I know what makes them happy, I know what makes them sad or mad, and I know their deepest, darkest fears, the things that they suppress so much that it only comes out in their nightmares. Now try again and ask me if my familyΒ is betraying me and going behind my back." She smacked her hands on the desk, pushing herself to stand up as a fire blazed behind her brown eyes.

Almost immediately, one of the men stepped forward and held her back, making sure she wouldn't topple. Marcello's eyes narrowed into a glare as he watched the interaction, "If it's not you, then who?" His eyes glared holes at the man who now stepped back and resumed his position.

"I don't know," she shrugged and began walking to the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Marcello swiftly followed her as she left the room.

"To the kitchen."

A man and a woman strode to her sides, as the rest of the people against the wall watched Marcello dutifully, hands with easy access to their weapons if necessary.

"Listen, this is business and if you want my help, you're going to have to convince me, give me a reason to want to waste my resources in helping you," the kitchen that they arrived in was fairly small and ordinary, and the fridge - which Bambina opened - was full of foods like pickles, peanut butter, avocado and pickles, as well as all different kinds of sliced meat.

Bambina began to make a sandwich, "What do you mean?" Marcello's mouth resembled a fish - opening and closing.

"Just because we may have history doesn't mean that you get a free pass to get my assistance. I have responsibilities now, it's not just my assistance that you might be asking for, it's my whole family's assistance, and I will not jeopardise their safety for something that doesn't affect them." She slopped a spoonful of tuna on top of some ham.

"Fine then, what can I give you in return for your help?" Marcello had always been the most dominant person in the room, but in this room, a short pregnant woman could squash him with a small movement of a finger.

"What do I want?" She tapped a finger on her chin as if she were in deep thought, "Money? More power?" There was silence for a while, "Oh! Salami!" She pulled out and slammed the last ingredient onto the sandwich before closing it up.

One of her men looked at it and grimaced, "What's with the look Thomas? Do you want it or something?" She grinned cheekily and offered the giant sandwich his way.

"I'd rather not Donna," the 6-foot man responded with a smile.

"Your loss," she turned back to Marcello, taking a large bite of the sandwich, "What I want is a good enough reason to help you. A reason that will persuade me to use up my resources on you."

"What about out of the kindness of your heart?" Marcello tried, unable to think of something on the spot.

Bambina slowly looked up from her giant sandwich, face devoid of any emotion as she stared at Marcello.

A man with blond hair who was standing up against the wall quietly snickered.

"Marcello," his name rolled off her tongue like honey, "you are a clown. Did you know that?"

Authors NoteΒ Thank you for all the support, you guys! I love you, and I'm sorry for the long wait :)

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