Concetta felt her nerves rise as they arrived at the large home, a true mansion, which was clearly the peak of elegance. As Abigail made her way in Concetta followed her at a bit of a distance, admiring the shining white marble floor and pristine white walls of the home. It was a style very different from New York but she liked it. It was all very clean and this was one thing she had learned to appreciate when growing up in the filth of poverty. As they slipped into what appeared to be a study with more books than she had ever seen in a private home, Concetta saw the man she knew immediately was the Don and bowed her head in respect. As Abigail stepped forward and gave a brief introduction it took all she had not to reach for the crucifix.

“Don DeMarco, this is my sister Concetta.”

Concetta then raised her head and stepped forward reaching to shake his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” Her voice was steady and managed to hold some strength despite it feminine quality. She then reached over and shook the hand of the Don’s enforcer, wanting to hit everyone.