Guilty Conscience ~ Abbacchio/Fem Reader

Chapter 2: Pink Martini Traitors

Hungry. Y/N was very hungry. Her stomach twisted in angry knots as she drove down the streets of Naples, bathing in the mild summer heat. Though her focus should have been directed to getting back to the city prison for the second time that day, her stomach had other plans, encouraging her eyes to scan the array of buildings for some kind of fast-food joint.

A single slice of buttered bread had not been a suitable choice of breakfast at 3 am. And skipping out on her lunch left a rather unpleasant feeling in Y/N's midsection. Though, with how her day had been going so far, she had no time for food. Working in the mafia took a bite out of her regular eating habits.

The three weeks that Y/N had worked for Leaky Eye Luca were nothing compared to the hustling and bustling she had experienced with delivering Polpo's message to the bodyguard squad. Y/N had previously been tasked with meeting strange men in alleyways and dark street corners where she would ramble off a list of names or numbers and then be on her way. No eye contact. No questions asked. She was an outsider, after all, so she avoided any business that wasn't her own. And to their credit, the low-end members of the notorious gang, Passione, were as cautious as Y/N was. There was never a need to question or be questioned.

But when one of Passione's incarcerated capos asked Y/N to take part in real mafia business for the first and final time, she had not expected an immediate interrogation at a restaurant full of young, oddly dressed men. In all honesty, Y/N wasn't sure what to expect when she arrived at Libeccio's, the restaurant where Bucciarati and his team regularly ate. A group of older men smelling thickly of overused cologne and preoccupied with an array of strippers was a more anticipated outcome for that afternoon. But instead, upon her arrival, Y/N was met with a group of teenage boys shovelling cake into their mouths, led by another, more charming, teenage boy.

And what surprised her the most was the interest she took in the message she had to deliver. Never had Y/N been so curious about a report. The regular messages she delivered were a series of random names and strange numbers, leaving no room for imagination or any sort of creative flare. But this message had been scripted poetically, leaving Y/N wondering what it meant. And clearly, what she had relayed to Bucciarati and his team was urgent. The second that he heard Polpo's message, Bucciarati immediately gathered his men and went out to deal with the problem. No wonder the bodyguard squad was so highly respected by the capo; those men meant business.

Passing through brightly lit streets and maneuvering her car around hordes of jubilant pedestrians, Y/N decided that she would go to Polpo before getting herself something to eat. She would tell him that his message was delivered successfully and then could she treat herself to a dinner out in the city. Her mouth began to water at the thought of eating an extra large helping of Linguine Allo Scoglio at one of the many infamous seaside restaurants that Naples had to offer. But before she could do any more daydreaming about food and fancy beverages, Y/N had to go to the city prison.

Parking in front of the same vacant building she had just hours before brought on a rather odd thought. Luca, who had treated her shamelessly those past three weeks and even just that morning, had gone out of his way to call Bucciarati and inform him of her loyalty to Passione. Luca's change in behaviour had been evident in the prison when confronted by Polpo, but had his mood towards Y/N continued to improve? Was she going to finally be given the respect she deserved?

Y/N sent searching fingers into the glove compartment attempting to locate her phone. The cool touch of metal grazed her palm, and with practiced movements, the flip phone had been sprung open and Luca's number dialled. The receiver buzzed twice before Y/N was met with her boss's familiar voice.

"Speak," is all he said.

"I was just calling to say thank you. For thinking ahead and calling Mr. Bucciarati."