Chapter Text
It wasn’t Dante’s first time in the warehouse, the base of operation for the Robloxian Mafia, but it certainly didn’t ease his worries knowing that today he was meeting the Don’s son. He stepped out of the limousine, his mother almost cried when she saw it out front of their dingy apartment, and into the salty air that the harbor warehouse was nauseatingly known for. There were a few other men about, but nobody his age or younger. Nobody, except for one. The thing he noticed first about Marcello was his hat, a notable marker of the boss’s family. Second was the thick curly ringlets of hair that crowned his head. Dante clutched his crowbar tight, his fingernails digging into his palm as he was pushed onward. “Right then, you don’t talk unless he talks to you first, you do whatever he says, and if it comes to it, his life is worth triple yours.” Dante audibly gulped, turning a deep shade of yellow as Marcello turned to look at him. “Is this him? He’s my age…” His disappointment was painfully clear, but it didn’t deter Dante one bit. He felt that familiar pang of longing admiration for the boy, something he always set aside as being natural, but seeing him, his soft hair, his dark demeanor, this felt anything but ‘normal’. “Per the don’s orders, ‘sides, this shouldn’t be anything a coupla kids can’t handle.” The grunt left the two of them alone, going off to chat with some of his similarly low intelligence friends. “It’s nice to meet you.. sir?” The word hardly rolled off Dante’s tongue, clearly uncomfortable calling someone so young such a respectful title. “Call me Coniglio, my family's name.” There was no denying the resemblance, Dante had seen the don once or twice and Marcello was practically the spitting image. “Coniglio… like rabbit?” Marcello’s face darkened. “Call me that again and I’ll break your wrist.” Dante shrank in his skin, shying away and insistently apologizing. Marcello’s face seemed to lighten up a little, but he was still clearly upset at the insinuation. “That aside, we have a job to do. There’s a few people downtown who owe the family some money, we gotta go collect some debts.” They head over to the idling limo, Marcello waving down the driver. Dante watches as his arms flex as he waves, catching himself feeling warm at the sight.
The two of them sit in silence as the car begins to drive, taking them through the streets. Dante stares at the crowbar in his lap, and Marcello is busy staring out of the dark tinted windows. They pull up outside of a small storefront, the driver comes to open the door and Marcello steps out first, motioning for Dante to follow. He does so obediently. A small man in an apron runs out, addressing the driver first, who simply gets back in the front of the car. “Oh come on, is this about the money? Please, I’m paying what I have, I don’t have anything else to give.” He sounds scared, but something feels off about what he says, he’s clearly a terrible liar. “We’ve given you an extra week, either you get the money for us, or we start taking until the debt is repaid.” The man hurriedly enters the store, Marcello and Dante follow. “Please, please, take anything from the store you’d like, please I just need an extra week.” Marcello browses the aisles, and begins slowly knocking off the items. “No more time, Mr. Agrello. You knew the terms of the agreement, and the family always collects on its loans.” They walk to the large glass window of the storefront, Dante meekly following behind. Marcello looks out the window for a moment, then turns around and snaps his fingers. “Crowbar, I think this store could use some fresh air.” Dante takes a moment, looking at the crowbar he forgot he was holding, then at Marcello, and then the window. “Are you s-” “Now.” Dante pauses, Mr. Agrello starts shouting and pleading, but it’s ineffective. Dante cocks his arms back, then slams his crowbar into the window, loudly shattering it. After the glass settles, Marcello swipes a few shards off his clothes, and turns to leave. Holding his crowbar tightly, Dante follows like a loyal dog, glancing back at the owner, who stares at the broken window with a mixture of fear and anger. Before stepping into the limousine, Marcello shouts through the broken window. “You have one more week, if your debt isn’t paid in full, you won’t need to worry about replacing the window.” The two of them climb into the car, and it quickly speeds off, leaving the shocked owner standing there, mouth agape and hands trembling.
“So uhm… I assume he’s been a problem in the past?” “Did nobody tell you not to speak unless I do?” Dante sharply looks down, his face red and hot. Marcello raises an eyebrow, seeing the sharp reaction. “Yes, Mr. Agrello is notorious for paying late. He always pays though, one way or another.” There was a thick silence in the car, uncomfortably hanging between the two. “We should have two more stops today, people have been paying the family well lately. Something has changed around here, people have more money.” Dante nods, still trying to avert his eyes and show as much respect to Marcello as he can. “I spoke to you, you can speak now.” Dante’s eyes shoot up, clearly flustered. “Oh uh- it could be because of the new trade deals in the area, apparently the family made a few arrangements with the business owners… you already knew that of course.” A small smile tugs at the corners of Marcello’s mouth, and he eases up a little bit. “I did know that, of course. We’ve been making large moves, snuffing out any smaller competition.” The car pulls to a stop, and the divider between the front of the car and the back slides open. “We’re here.”
They’re in a much more remote location, the dense storefronts have turned into thin forest on the very edge of the town. A small gas station mixed with a mom and pop shop is the only building in sight. “Follow my lead, these two are more of a delicate procedure.” Marcello steps inside, there’s only a few people inside, but they quickly depart seeing two well dressed men enter, one holding a crowbar. “Mrs. Carver, it’s been some time since I’ve been here to collect, how’s Mr. Carver?” The frail woman practically lights up at the sight of Marcello, rushing out from behind the counter to kiss the back of his hand. “Oh Jim’s alright, he’s got a bit of a flu at the time being so he’s at home today. Are you here for the money?” Marcello smiles warmly, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I am, of course, but please the money can come later. Let’s chat for a bit.” Dante stands near the door awkwardly as the elderly woman leads Marcello to a small dining area, sitting him down and going off to grab a few small sandwiches and bottled water. “Business around here has been slowing down a little, everybody moving into the town, poor souls, so we want to try and pay off the rest of our loan.” She pulls out a small lockbox from under the counter, and as she opens it, at least $4,000 in hundred dollar bills. Marcello is shocked at seeing the old woman with such fortune, but she grins. “We’ve been saving for some time now, it’s sad to see our ties with the family end here, but you’re always welcome here Mr. Coniglietto.” Marcello places a hand on hers, taking the lockbox and wrapping her in a soft embrace. “Give Mr. Carver my best wishes, I’ll make sure to come back and see you again sometime ma’am.” Dante follows Marcello outside, waving back to the woman as they leave. Marcello looks to him, his stare dark and intimidating. “Not a word of that to anyone, understand?” Dante quickly nods, tightening his crowbar grip.
This time around, the air between the two in the back of the limousine is less suffocating, an almost friendly connection starting to form. “Do you know how to use a gun, Dante?” Suddenly the back of the car felt cold, Marcello’s warm demeanor changing in a second. “I don’t not know, but I’ve never liked them.” “The people we’re going to meet now, they’ve been known to show some resistance. I’d rather you be prepared. Normally we’d send people we don’t much care for to do this, but my father thinks I need the experience.” Marcello reaches under the seat, unlatching something underneath him, and pulls out a large black case. He opens it, revealing an assault rifle and two pistols, with ammo to match. A shiver goes down Dante’s spine, but he reaches out and takes one of the pistols, loading it, and tucking it into his waistband, hiding it with his shirt. After a few long minutes, the car pulls to a stop. The two of them step out from the car, the driver keeping the car in idle as the two view a rundown bar in front of them. They don’t bother knocking, Marcello leading the way inside. There’s hardly anyone inside, clearly not a favorable location for the locals. “We’re here to collect the family’s debts.” Dante does his best to put on a strong demeanor, despite his younger age. Behind the counter is a boy not too much older than himself, but he has slicked hair and tattoos all the way down his neck and arms. The cigarette in his mouth left a small cloud of smoke at the ceiling above him. “The family? Piss off, we ain’t got any debts to pay.” Marcello’s mouth twinges, the brim of his cap hiding his eyes from the person in front of them. “You’re sadly mistaken, now you can either pay your debts with the money you owe, or me and my friend here will find another way you can pay us.” The person hops the counter, and another much larger man walks out a door along the back wall. “These two kids troubling you Cuzo?” Dante steps forward, meeting the feisty teen before he could reach Marcello. “Just a couple of goodfornothin’s looking for money they’re not owed.” Marcello flashes his gun, tucked neatly into a holster on his waist. “You and I both know that lying to a member of the family isn’t a good idea.” The larger man reaches under the counter, pulling up a small rifle. “Oh yeah? And who’s gonna tell em?”
Marcello and Dante don’t back down, Marcello looking up and tilting his hat back to look the larger man in the eyes. “You don’t want to play it like this.” The smaller boy walks back and hops the counter again. “Yeah, I think we do.” With only a moment to spare, Dante leaps towards Marcello, tackling him to the ground as a series of shots ring out from behind the counter. The two don’t have a moment to think, only being able to run outside as another bout of fire peppers the door behind them. The large grimy windows shatter around the two boys, who quickly run behind the limousine for cover. Dante pats himself down frantically, turning to Marcello. “Shit, I think my gun fell out when I jumped on you.” Marcello was already preparing his rifle when the sound of crunching glass forced them to move again. “Take mine, it’s on my hip.” Dante thought about the implications of grabbing Marcello’s hips, but was quickly brought back to reality when Marcello placed the cold metal in his hands. “Focus, or we’re both dead.” Dante nodded, and the smaller man rounded the corner of the car. He was quickly met by Marcello’s shot to his shoulder, shouting as he ran back around the car. “Fucking hell! Kill those bastards already!” Dante scrambled to his feet, seeing the imposing figure of the larger man rounding the far end of the vehicle. He fired a few shots, most missing and one hitting the roof of the car, leaving a large chip in the paint. He grabbed Marcello’s arm, pulling him to the rear of the car in a hurry. “The family will have your heads for this! You know I’m off limits!” Gunfire drives them into cover, the hard asphalt beneath them. “I already told you, nobody will live to tell them!” “Fuckin’ kill em!” The shorter man is inside once more, shouting from the broken windows. Marcello turns to Dante, a determined look on their face. “We need to drive them back inside, and I need you to trust me. Go around the other side.” Dante nods, quickly rushing around the other end. Marcello jumps from his cover, firing a number of shots that send the large man to the ground. He spins around just in time to see the butt of Dante’s gun heading for his face, knocking him hard in the head. The two wrestle for a moment, Dante reaching for his gun and managing to get it out of his hands. Marcello runs up to the window of the limo, nodding to the driver and making a small motion with his hands before running over to help Dante. While both boys would be outmatched on their own, the two of them together release a flurry of punches and hits that the larger man can’t do anything to stop. Eventually, the two resort to pushing him up against the wall with the broken window, managing to topple him inside. The car door opens, and the driver steps out holding a grenade. With one simple motion, he manages to pull the pin and toss it inside, and the boys duck for cover.
The explosion makes Dante’s ears ring, and he can only hear the driver shouting Marcello’s name as he drags the two of them into the back of the car, then quickly speeding off. Dante takes a moment to steady his breathing, positioning himself into the seat, and slumping into it. “Like you said, they’re trouble.” Marcello begins to laugh, what a stupid time to make a joke. The two breath heavily, the adrenaline causing their hands to shake. “I never asked, what’s your last name?” “Capelli. Dante Capelli.” Marcello chuckles. “D.C. huh? Like a debt collector.” “I guess you could say that.” The two exchange a glance, Marcello’s one of loyalty and admiration, and Dante’s one being a tinge more romantic. “I hope we get to work together in the future.” Marcello extends his hand for a handshake, Dante grips his hand firmly. “I hope so too.”
The two return to the warehouse, causing everyone to stop and stare at the car. The rear is littered with bullet holes, some of the glass windows are shattered, and the large streak from Dante’s pistol marks the top. The foreman’s jaw hung as he saw the state of the car. “What the hell did you two do!” Marcello stepped forward, taking a majority of the attention away from the car and Dante. “We ran into some trouble collecting from the Viper gang on the south side, that’s all.” “That’s all? We have to ditch the car, if anyone saw it, they could tie it back to us. I swear to god your father’s gonna kill you, and me, and him!” He pointed to Dante, who shrank down behind Marcello. “I will speak to my father about what happened, I’m sure he can be reasonable. We had to maintain the family’s respect, I couldn’t just walk out after they insulted me.” The foreman grabbed Marcello’s arm. “You and I both know your father is far from reasonable.” A crowd began to gather, and he realized he had just physically accosted the Don’s son in front of everyone. “To hell with it, it’s your funeral.” He turned to face the crowd. “Get your asses back to work!” Marcello nodded, then turned to face Dante. “I’ll talk to my father, I’m sure it’ll be fine. You should go home, I’d say your assignment is completed. Thank you for your service, Dante Capelli.” Dante smiled at Marcello, then extended a hand. “And thank you for your trust, Marcello Coniglio.” The two shook hands, then embraced in a short hug when Marcello thought no one was looking, much to Dante’s excitement. The two parted ways, Dante being driven home in a different car, and Marcello escorted home, the two hoping they would once more cross paths.