Yesterday - Bucciarati Fanfiction

Chapter 24 - Sunday bloody sunday

Today was about gathering information about what this team knew of Vendetta Rossa; Yet here I was playing pool to get my ring back, and avoid giving anything to this strange man in front of me. I did not imagine it would go down like this, but I would have to go with it. "I'll let you go first, ladies first." Said the purple-haired creep as he gave a fake bow. Shrugging, I changed my hold on the cue and leaned on the table, not before placing the white ball where I wanted it to be. I was focused, I did not want to miss it, there was something at stake. Or maybe was it more about pride? Yep, definitely about pride. All those men watching, I had to demonstrate I was not that bad. It was a bit stupid, I'll admit, but I was going to beat Melone so it did not matter. Pulling back my arm as I am about to hit, I heard Melone speak, "Hit it right on the spot, just one strong thrust of y-" "Do refrain from talking shit when it's my turn, that would be great." I said in a monotonous tone, giving him a deadly look before focusing back on the ball. He raised both his hands defensively, "My apologies." He was not sorry, not one bit. He was doing it on purpose, he was being noisy for the sole purpose of distracting me. Oh, but if noise is the problem, all I have to do is use Penny Lane when it's my time to play, I thought in illumination before doing exactly that and suddenly I felt like I was surrounded by cotton. A smile made its way to my lips as I hit the ball, although a bit weaker than I wanted, it did the trick and I opened the game. The annoying assassin clapped his hands excitedly, "Di molto!! You're not half-bad, you'll have to aim for the solids, I'll have the stripes." He said before aiming for his designated ones with his cue, swiftly, he struck but did not yet score. His grip on the wooden stick tightened but he didn't say anything. Instead he stepped back and let the blue haired-man go forth. "The one in the back looks easy enough to get, I'm sure if you get it it'll annoy him." I said in hushed tone to Fugo as he observed the table.

This was not really productive, but maybe I could make it so by turning this game into something more interesting. "Before we continue, you do like having something at stakes, yes?" I asked with a small smile, it intrigued him. There was a curious expression on his face as he raised a brow before quickly sending me a wide grin, "I do, what do you suggest lady Bucciarati?" he asked, leaning on the cue expectantly. Reacting to the name he had given me was useless, so I ignored it. "If my team scores, I get to ask your team a question. If your team scores, you get to ask us a question. Does it not make it more interesting?" My suggestion turned his expression into something sour, even with half his face covered with a mask I see his eyes had darkened. He was not the only one who tensed at that very moment, I heard Formaggio tell Illuso that it was stupid, adding that Melone would not accept something so stupid. "She's the Don's fucking emissary, of course she'll try get every drop of info she can." Illuso replied before opening a can of beer. He understood quickly, but he didn't move. As for Fugo, he gave me wide eyes as to tell me we'd talk with Risotto, no need to make a scene here. "I accept." He said in all seriousness. "But no more changing the conditions now missy, I hate being played for a fool." His emotions were like a rollercoaster, he would go from threatening to fake flirt, or overly joyous in seconds. But I ignored it, instead I let Fugo play his turn. Ghiacchio in the background was getting impatient, mumbling it was a stupid game. Clack. He hit it, it fell in the pocket, one for us. Melone tsked, Fugo and I kept a calm and composed expression to not show how thrilled we actually were.

Melone's attitude was light, "Do use your question carefully, I'll admit I'll be flattered if you asked for my number. I did tell you at the ball we could have all sorts of fun together." He purred the last part as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I grabbed his hand and stepped back, putting some distance between us. "I have my question, do not worry." A polite smile on my face, I met his deadly gaze. While there was a sweet smile on his face, his eyes said something else. "On the night of the ball," I started and he seemed already more guarded, "Has anyone from La Squadra Esecuzioni seen someone help a wounded woman out of the ballroom? Other than Bucciarati helping me." A weighting silence settled. Seconds passed as his eyes held mine. No one talked, I knew quickly from his quick glance to both men at the bar that he tried to see what he had to say. More seconds passed; he pursed his lips, mimicking a pensive look then shook his head. "Of course not! If we had, we would have told the Don." He leaned forward, or was it more looming over me? "You wouldn't be accusing of withholding information, would you little thing?" Letting out a huffed laugh, I shook my head before patting his arm and gesturing to the table. "Keep that question for if you score. Your turn." I moved closer to Fugo and let them play. The tension that was here a moment ago left when Pesci moved behind the bar to put a bit of background music.