In Little Italy, a neighborhood located in New York wasn't the same place as everyone pictured in the media decades ago. It is now just a small area with no actual Italians living, but that's where the speculations have it wrong. One Italian family has moved to the neighborhood from Florence, and they have come to New York to widen the range of business.

As they stay low and shady, the Manzo family continues the tradition popularized by the Sicilian organized criminals and that is being a part of the Mafia. On a penthouse they are running, a young man uses the mitts and hones his skills in throwing hands. The man would keep on sharpening his boxing skills with a gauge wrapped in his knuckles, and his company appears to see the improvements done.

"Way to go, Fabio." The one holding the mitts encourages the young adult to keep unleashing punches.

"Don't we have a proper facility to train the boy? He's stuck training at home back in Firenze." The man watching them asks if they could bring Fabio into a better facility.

"He's comfortable practicing at home, Sal. Let the boy be." The guy who is holding the mitts for Fabio responded.

"Just a suggestion as an uncle, Dino. The kid's talented, you know. We would make the cash flow with his fists." Sal insists on his suggestion.

"My son is not an ATM, brother. And it's not like Papa didn't teach us these things." Dino doesn't like the idea of his son pursuing a career in the ring.

"See, they give crazy bets on the wrong guy, and they lose a lot of fucking money. Fabio is a money fight material, face it. We'll talk to the promoters for his debut."

"We moved here for something else, alright? Fabio is excluded from what we do." Dino had to point out why they are in Lower Manhattan.

"What? Recreate those movies we saw as kids? Little Italy has changed throughout the years, fratello mio. We're the only Italians here." Sal reminds his brother of how they spent their childhood.

"I didn't say that we would repopulate this place. What I said are business and business only." Dino emphasized what he is trying to imply.

"I expect you to be flamboyant with our neighbors for the next few weeks. Something that we have been doing back in Italy." Sal took a quick rest, pouring a fair amount of Martini in a glass.

Fabio requested to take a break, indicating that he needs to take it slowly or else, he would sustain injuries that might affect his performance. And while his father is busy taking the gauge wrapped around his knuckles, a man comes in furiously.

"Don Manzo, there's someone here to see you." An associate of the Manzo family noted Dino that they have a visitor.

"Save that for the guest, Sal. We have ourselves a visitor." Dino made himself look presentable by wearing his coat on, telling the right hand to allow the guest to come inside.

The visitor is none other than Mexico's own, Vicente Campana. He has come to talk to Dino about a proposal. "Excuse me... Are you Don Dino Manzo? Head of the Manzo family?"

Dino raised an eyebrow as he doesn't like the aura that the new kid is giving. "Yeah... It is me, Dino Manzo. What do you need from me?"

"Good morning, first of all. And it looks like you're busy, I think I should drop by when you're free." Vicente was about to step out of the penthouse, but Dino tells him that he isn't.

"No, no. I have a lot of free time. And besides, if this is the only chance you should speak to me, please. I want it to be done immediately." Dino insists that the Mexican hitman should settle it instantly.

"Okay, Don Manzo. If you insist." Vicente left his coat hanging on a rack near the door.

Dino and Vicente had a seat on the kitchen table, and kicking off with a discussion, the head of the Manzo family starts it. "So, may I have your name?"

"Vicente Campana. But you could call me Vincent." He cites his name in a sophisticated tone.

"And what brings you here exactly, Vincent?" Dino reaches for a pair of glasses and a bottle of Sambuca, filling both glasses with it.

Vicente took the glass of Sambuca. "What they tell you all the time, Don Manzo. Business."

"What? Going to offer me your services? Look, Vincent. The last one who did that had his penis cut off with some bitch he slept with. Eh, he was a real jackass anyway. Little fucker had it coming." He tells him about the last guy who worked for him in which didn't end up well.

"Not really, Don Manzo. We could just talk about something we could agree on." Vicente had the taste of foreign alcohol.

"Sure, boy. Hit me up." Dino crosses his legs, leaning to the sofa where he is comfortable.

"The drink tastes good, by the way. Where did you get it?" Vincent would like to know about where it is exported.

Manzo tells him where it came from. "Italy, my friend."

"Fair enough." Vincent also leans to the chair where he is laying low.

"I just drink occasionally, and I have plenty of bottles unopened. So go nuts." Dino offered him the whole bottle generously.

"Thank you, Don Manzo," Campana smirked at the bottle as he fell in love with it already.

"Say, what country are you from?" Dino asked where he is representing.

"Mexico," Vincent tells the place where he came from.

"I must say, you have fluent English for a Mexican." Don Manzo's ears were pleased to hear Vincent speak in English.

"Not to belittle my fellow Mexicans, but I chose to go to school over street life. The system here in America fucked it up, heh. Land of opportunity my ass." Vincent vented his internal frustrations out.

"Blaming it on the system, huh? Quite common, but there's an ideology behind it, I presume?" Dino assumed if there is.

"Kind of. And oh, not to mention stereotyping. They see me, and they automatically hear the sounds of El Jarabe Tapatio in their heads." Campana cracks a joke about the stereotyping he encounters.

Dino cackled as if he could relate to it. "That's messed up, man. But, I can't blame their ignorance and arrogance. Does it correlate? Fuck no, it's out of place."

"They always picture Latin America like that. You know what? Fuck it." Vicente was done with the topic as he laughs it off too.

"On a serious note. Hey, listen. You know that we're the only Italians here, right? It's hard to live here with them thinking we're boasting that 'Hey, don't fuck with us, or we'll give you an offer you can't refuse.' Francis Ford Coppola did us dirty." Dino spoke about their background as a powerful family by adding a reference to it.

"Come on, Coppola's movies are my childhood. The same goes for Brian De Palma's." Campana shows his love for crime movies.

"Don't get me wrong, those were great depictions. But what about the impact? That's where the glorification enters." Don Manzo emphasizes his opinions toward the films they have watched.

"Movies did have an impact on me back when I was a kid, but a reality check isn't a kind reminder that I'm living in a fucking dream world. I had to figure out what's the difference." Vicente was reminded of his phase.

"What are we now, cinephiles? Tell me what kind of impact it gave you." Dino brought a pack of cigarettes out.

"The mindset I had in my adolescent years but don't worry, I got over it." Vincent describes the effect of those films on him.

"Good. Now, for the real question..." The head of the Manzo family took a puff in his cigar before asking it. "Who are you working for?"

"Some powerful guy named Frank Hopkins, says he's big time in the mob business," Vincent tells that he works for the Hopkins mob family.

Dino would remain silent for almost a minute, thinking of the name that he mentioned as it was too familiar to him. Vicente starts to get uncomfortable with the situation, but he has to keep it cool whether the conversation doesn't end up as expected.

"Pardon? Frank Hopkins? The guy from Louisiana?" Dino knew that Vincent is talking about Hopkins.

"Yeah, he's from Louisiana. What's the matter with him?" Vicente couldn't help but notice Don Manzo's facial expressions.

"That guy... Did you strike a deal with him? If yes, what's the percentage he gave to you?" Dino asked how much is his income upon working for Hopkins.

"60-40, and it's not that bad as it seems," Campana spoke about the capital he is getting.

"That fucking greaseball... Why did he send you here?" Manzo stood up and pulls a Revolver from the desk's cabinet, cocking before pointing it at Vincent.

Vicente responded as he suspends his hands in the air. "Hold on, hey, hey, bring the gun down. Let's peacefully settle this. I don't even know why Frank sent me here."

"Drop the act, you pompirana. You're here to gun me down. Frank and I are destined to take each other down, and I'm not even surprised that he sent a fucking below-average gangster like you." Dino knew about Vincent all along.

"Relax, Don Manzo. Pointing a gun at me is completely unnecessary." Campana still has his hands in the air.

"Your guns, give me." Dino wishes Vicente to get rid of his guns.

Vincent did remove the guns around his pants, tossing them to Manzo to make sure that he doesn't have any weapons in his arsenal. And as Dino gets back from his seat, he still has the pistol aiming at Campana. He would ask more questions about the guy as this has now turned into an interrogation.

"I'm asking you again... Why did Hopkins send your ass off here? You're here to kill me? Too bad you don't have your weapons." Dino asked him for the second time.

"You're being paranoid, Don Manzo." Vincent won't tell anything about Frank and their relations.

"You shouldn't have made a deal with that greaseball bastard, I'm telling you. He's fucking horrible at it." Dino attempts to convince Vicente that Frank is one lousy dealer.

"I'm new here, I don't know whose people should I seek for business." Campana came up with an excuse.

"Right... And you fucked up. If Frank is done with you sooner or later, don't blame me." Manzo foresees a possible betrayal between them.

"What do you mean he'll be done with me sooner or later?" Vincent gets confused about why would Hopkins do it.

"Kiddo, let me show you something. This business right here? Friendships and betrayals are quite common. And I'm telling you this right now, you shouldn't trust Frank Hopkins." Dino puts his gun down slowly.

"So? I know how things work." Vicente was relieved that the Revolver was now hidden.

"Bullshit, my friend. Now, I'm giving you the deal you can't sweat the fuck out. The Manzo family consists of wholesome yet powerful people, and we bond stronger than anybody." He describes what the Manzo family is all about.

"So you're telling me to ditch Frank and be a part of your family instead?" Campana guessed Don Manzo's plan.

"Exactly, Vincent. Return to Frank's compound and give him a bitch slap. I'm talking about real opportunity, my friend. Align yourself with us, the Manzos and you'll be fine with our guidance." Dino offered a deal contradicting Frank's.

Vicente knew he has to think of it again, but this time, he refuses. "I'm sorry, Don Manzo. But I have to say no."

Don Manzo slammed his hands into the table, indicating that he doesn't like the sound of it. "Bullshit! Do you think you could just turn that down? Go to Frank and tell him I'm declaring an all-out war between our families, and you get to watch. I'm going to make him my bitch and you'll get to see it, now go!"

Vincent stood up and retrieves his coat from the rack, wearing it before bidding his farewell to Don Manzo. And the day ends with Vicente Campana coming up with a decision that would change his life as a prospect of the crime business in America.

To be continued...