Ruby — Roleplayer Guild

Geppe Bertinelli
Don Luccimo's Estate

"Act like a man, for once in your fucking life."

The wealthy mob princeling turned wealthier Don told the working class Italian boy with a family name that was, at best, tragic. Until now, until Helena. Don Luccimo was the man to see if you were a made man in need of financial advice, both for legitimate pursuits, and not so much. In fact Luccimo specialized in "not so much" and stayed respectful in the legitimate areas. All of that was true until Helena came back to Gotham City. Luccimo was great, but he wasn't having lunch with Warren fuckin' Buffet. He wasn't on the cover of magazines as a great financial mind. 

That someone like that would willing get involved with a crime family was beyond Geppe's wildest dreams. That the someone would be his cousin, and committed to helping him with his dream, seemed to good to be true. But she was real, and had made a believer out of him. Out of old bitter men like Luccimo? No. Men like Luccimo had been staying low and licking their wounds, waiting for a moment like this to really strike at Helena...and by extension strike at him. And he had to sit there and take it. Or stand, because Luccimo never offered him a seat after receiving him in his Wayne Manor wannabe study. 

After taking a second to think and compose himself before repsonding, Geppe allowed words to form. "I'm the Don of the--"

"--she is! WE KNOW IT! What else could she be?"

Geppe let himself get bored, not annoyed. "My cousin and most trusted advisor." Then Geppe said fuck it. He went for the man's liquor, and poured himself a glass. Swirled it a bit in his hand, and took a sip before continuing. "I can understand how you might get confused. Life is a certain way for men like you. Guys like me, guys that grew up in Little Italy and worked two part time jobs to get through community college, we look at it a different way." Then he said, before continuing. The old man's face was half shock, but Geppe knew he had his attention. "You and I both saw her physically destroy Fat Tommy V at the big meet, and I never saw a man do that to Fat Tommy V ever before when we were running the same streets. Works books better than even you, sir," he paused momentarily for a salute to Luccimo with his glass, "I fact I know even you believe, as I believe even you bought shares in her latest venture?"

"Men won't follow her."

It made Geppe really, truly, smile before smothering it with drink of alcohol. "They follow me, like she does."

Luccimo glared. "And why would I follow a boy? Leave. You say the Bertinellis did not hire this assassin, facts state otherwise--we shall soon know once the man is caught. You have four times my number, why would I start a war with the Bertinellis? I am not so eager to see my once proud family name extinguished."

The glass went down, and Geppe stood, taking a second to button his black suit jacket. "But you might join in with the Vitis if they start a war, wouldn't you? Especially if it meant getting some of what's now Bertinelli property as a reward. Just know if you do that it won't matter what Helena says, I got a long memory and a mean streak to those who betray me. Have a good night."

Outside he found the driver, Ray Gee, with the black Caddie still running. Once in he thumbed about the screen of his smartphone, checking for messages. There were fires everywhere to put out, Luccimo was simply a priority for being a Don rumored to be calling for the end of the burgeoning Bertinelli crime empire. The rest was simply anger from the lower levels, at this point, from Geppe was being told. And information about Batman. Some kid claiming a "Sewer King" wanted money for information, Geppe ignored it, snickering at the name. Sewer King. What a joke, this town. 

"Hey, boss."

Geppe didn't look up, already texting back someone very important: a stripper from earlier in the evening. And a few sons of bosses in the city, who wanted things to support the Bertinellis. Geppe considered it a small price to pay, and gave his word on it. 

"Guy's ready for you. About ten minutes away."

Geppe smirked. "Can we make it five?" Afterall, he was trying to save every minute of the night for someone later. But there was no rushing what was coming. Being framed by someone for a hit on a fellow family's boss wasn't the only fire going tonight. Helena sent him the information that a sergeant of the GCPD was about to get put down. 

Couldn't say how she'd found out, or exactly why it mattered to them, but she had already arranged the hiring of a private detective. Geppe felt bad for the guy; probably walking down the street somewhere in Gotham when all of a sudden a car pulls up, and a man gets out the back seat; mean looking, big, suited up like a professional. 'Invite' the guy to get into the limo, making certain it's clear 'no' just wasn't gonna be accepted. Great day for Slam Bradley, right?

Then told nothing, just driven around stopping behind a black Caddie SUV. The mean guy with the suit got out, and Geppe got in. The car pulled away from the still parked SUV, and started driving again. Geppe turned just-so to tilt his body in the guy's direction, before smiling. "Sorry about the drama, Slam. Hope the boys weren't rough or anything stupid. I'm Guiseppe Bertinelli. I've got a job I want you to look into. Happening right about now-ish, one of the GCPD sarges for traffic is gonna get capped. We're not sure by who, we just know it's gonna happen. We know he's crooked, working for someone. We want you to find out who killed him, and to find out who he was on the payroll of. To motivate you, and to address payment, I purchased your gambling debt from the Russians....you should really find better betting guides, my man. That's not a small debt for a guy of your means. Do this job for me, do it well, and the debt's gone. You never have to see me again. What do you say?"
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