A/N: You should read Prison Bitch first. It will make the story more fun for you I think….

The dark imposing figure sat at the table flipping the ace of spades in this hand. He sat alone, in the back of the restaurant, waiting for an associate to show up. After a few sips of red wine he saw the spineless kid walk into the restaurant, looking around scared. He immediately made his way to the occupied table and sat down, gulping a glass of water, and wiping sweat from his brow with a napkin.

"Well?" He asked when he sat down.

"He's staying on the corner of 8th and 5th." The kid said, sweating. "Look, I don't know about this-"

"What's done is done." The man cut him short. "He will be taken care of. All it comes down to now, is will you accept payment?" He asked reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cigar.

"Of course." He said. The dark man chuckled and lit the end of the cigar.

"Good." His lips didn't move, trying to keep the cigar between his lips from falling. Reaching into his wallet he pulled out four hundred dollar bills and handed it to the twenty three year old college student.

"You said a thousand!" He yelled.

"And you will get the rest." Pause. "After he is dead." The man said and placed the card over on his side of the table. "Place this on his body." he ran a hand over his slicked back black hair.

"What? No I didn't agree to kill no body." He said.

"What did you think you agreed to? Hugs and kisses?" He asked. "We do business. You aren't backing out are you?" He asked and shifted slightly so the kid could see the shiny silver gun tucked under his belt.

"No." He said shaking his head.

"Good." He murmured and hushed his voice. "Go outside, there is a payphone across the street. Under the ceiling panel is a hand gun. One so simple even you can use it. Point and shoot." He said. He picked up a brown paper bag from the floor and handed it to the sweaty mess across from him. Once he is dead, place him on his back, on the bed. Place this in in mouth. Wipe the gun clean and place it in his hand. Then come back here." He leaned in and the kid leaned back intimidated. "Don't let anyone see you." He said sharply.

"Yes sir." The kid stood and grabbed the paper bag. He turned and left, leaving the dark man behind him. He walked down the busy street looked around nervously. His hands shook by his sides and he wiped sweat from his face with his forearm.

The gun was right where He had said it was. It was plain black, already loaded. Just point and shoot. He was as discreet as he could be, picking up the phone and pretended to feel around, as if bored with the conversation.

He entered the apartment door and decided to use the stairs. Elevators always have camera's. Stairs, only sometimes. That was what He said. He still didn't know his employers name, so he turned into…He.

He stood in front of the door, a gun in one hand, the brown bag in the other. Lifting a hand he knocked. He heard nothing for a few minutes, then a shuffle behind the door. He knocked again and then he heard a latch open.

"Hello?" Joey asked though the door, looking in the peep hole.

"Hi." The kid said his voice shaking. "open up. I need to ask you something." He his the gun behind him until the door was opened. "Can I come in?" The door was opened, a latch still keeping it only a few inches from being shut.

"What for?" Joey asked, and looked around the hall. "What do you want?"

"I need to take a survey for school." He lied and watched the subject look around.

"Sorry, I'm not interested." he said and moved to shut the door.

"Please?" The kid asked and the stranger opened the door. The kid stepped inside and slammed the door behind him, raising the gun and letting off two bullets. They ripped into the guys stomach and he fell to the ground in agony. The kid jumped at the sound of the gun and felt his stomach tightened. Someone would have heard that, and now the guy was rolling on the floor screaming, and holding his bloody stomach.

He squeezed off a few more into his chest and finally the screams stopped. He went to pick the man up, but stopped with a groan. He was far to heavy. How was he supposed to get him on the bed? He was shaking horribly now and could barley contain himself. He wanted to run out and cry now.

He grabbed onto the man by the back of the shirt, then his coat and tried to pull him, but failed. Finally he wrapped his arms around his arms and began to pull him into the bedroom. A trail of blood was left behind, and the kid almost vomited. Instead he managed to hold himself together.

Lifting him would be an entirely different story. It took him a full ten minutes, which seemed an eternity, to be able to lift him. When he had him on the bed he went back to the living room where he had left the paper bag. Looking inside he got a wif of the smell and dropped the bag. He fell to his knees and proceeded to vomit, covering the wooden floor.

Finally, he managed to regain his composure and calm himself. He then looked at himself, and saw his new clothes soaked with blood and threw up again. Once his stomach was empty, he grabbed the bag, now covered in vomit and blood, and ran into the bed room. He reached into the bag, and pulled out the small lifeless body, of a fragile, yellow canary.

He grabbed onto the arm of the man and set up pillows, so he was sitting slightly, but on his back like his boss ordered. He cringed when he placed the canary into the mans mouth, and tried to avoid the blank, soulless eyes of the man he had just murdered. He took the gun and placed it in the man's hand. When he saw everything was in place he turned and ran out of the room, forgetting to wipe his prints off of everything, like he had been told to do.

He sprinted from the apartment, slipping, sliding, and falling in the blood and vomit that covered the once clean floor. He ran down the back stairwell, as was instructed, but was stopped by his employer. He stood there in shock and watched the look of disgust flash over His face when he looked at his clothes.

"Is it done?" He asked his voice smooth, and even, a thick New York City accent coming through.

"Yes sir." The kid said. He was so shaken he didn't notice the man polishing his beautiful, silver gun with a handkerchief.

"You left behind a track in blood." He said and shook his head disappointingly. He placed the handkerchief back in the back of his suit pocket and smiled coldly.

"I know sir, I'm sorry. It wont happen again." He promised and the kid tried to not be shaken by the absolute calm the man gave off. He wasn't worried about anything! A man was just killed!

"You're right." He said and raised his gun. "It wont." He shot three times, hitting it's target each time. One to the head, and two to the heart. He scowled down at the boy. He had hoped this one would make it, but he clearly didn't have the stomach. He turned on his heal and walked from the stairwell and into the alley, where a black car was waiting for him.

He got into the seat and cracked his neck, trying to relieve some tension.

"Absolute mess." he told the driver, and his companion. "Blood…and vomit…everywhere." he said.

"You sure know how to pick them don't you?" Vincent asked. "Second one this month."

"I am done with associates. There is only one type of man you can trust. A good, strong Italian man." He said. "These kids, they don't have the stomach."

"Get over it Frankie." Bernardo said from the drivers seat. "We will always have to deal with them"

"Home Frank?" Vincent asked and leaned back. "I'd like to fuck my wife for a change."

"Yes. I need to have a word with my father." Just as they pulled onto the highway, sirens sounded in the background.



"It was the mob again." Jacob said and watched as the dead canary was pulled from the mouth of the victim. "He was supposed to testify in three days. Dam it!" He yelled. "I told him to stay put! Not to open any doors!"

"The mob can get to anyone Johnson. Don't let it hit you so hard."

"We were about to have the information needed to put Marcello Marullo behind bars for life!" Jacob said and looked over the blood and vomit. He kept a cloth over his nose as he spoke, barley able to stand the smell. "Must have been a kid." He murmured looking over the rushed and sloppy scene.

"Got another one." Came a cop from the doorway. "In the stairwell."

Detective Jacob Johnson began to make his way out of the door and to the stairwell.

"This was a professional." Jacob said. "Look at the shots." He cursed loudly, it echoing in the concrete stairwell.

"Sir?" A policeman asked.

"Call the station." He said quietly. "Tell them Marcello Marullo must be released."

"Sir!" He yelled outraged.

"We lost our only witness. He was our whole fucking case!" He said. "The D.A is going to have my first born child."



Marcello was sitting in his cramped cell when he heard the door swing open. It was strange, lunch had been delivered an hour ago, usually he only got a visitor when they were dropping off one of the three meals.

"Get up." The guard said gruffly and Marcello narrowed his eyes. "You're being released."

"Is that so." He murmured. "I guess Joey had an accident." He chuckled and walked passed the guard. His clothes, from when he had been dropped off were shoved to his chest and he grabbed a hold of them. He was brought into a small bathroom to change and placed the black slacks on, before placing on his black button down shirt. He left the bathroom dressed, having slicked his hair back with water.

"How do I look?" He asked the guard smugly.

"Like a cold blooded killer." The cop spat.

"You're sweet." He said, placing a hand over his heart and following him out.

"I wouldn't be so smug boy. Your brothers being looked at for the crime." Marcello laughed at the comment.

"I'm sure it's not the first."

When he stepped outside he saw a black car waiting for him. He got in and was alone. He didn't recognize the driver, and so neither spoke. As was right with the code. He was dropped off at the house and entered the house. He smiled when he saw his boys playing in the living room and they ran towards him screaming "daddy!!" His wife came running in from the kitchen, a huge smile on her face.

"Oh, Marcello!" She cried and wrapped her arms around him as he hugged his kids.

"What happened to Joey?" He asked Gabriella in a hushed voice.

"Frankie boy took care of it." She murmured and he placed a kiss to her lips.

"I love you." He said and she smiled.

"I love you too." She said.

"I need to call Frank." Marcello said and went into the study. He picked up his phone and called his brother.



"You're out."


"I'm on my way."

He hung up the phone.


Frankie walked into the house and said hello to his two nephews. He kissed his sister in law on the cheek with a big hug and walked into the study. He embraced his brother warmly with a smile.

"How was your time in the slammer huh?" He asked and sat down, chewing his gum loudly.

"Great fun." Marcello laughed then turned serious. "It wasn't just Joey. There was another informer." He said.

"Who?" Frankie asked leaning forward. "I sweeped through everyone. There couldn't of been another."

"It was Moralli." Marcello said sitting down.

"Moralli? No, no, he came to Gabby's birthday. Why would he do something like that?" He asked.

"You know that job we had? At the bank?" Frankie nodded with a scrunched forehead. "The whole crew got caught, all walked. Why? They made deals. I guarantee it. They all opened their fat mouths, and the whole Family is in trouble now. We need to find them Frankie. All of them, and shut them up before they can talk on the record."

"It was Cantilatto's crew wasn't it?"

"It was." He said.

"Where can we find him?" Frankie asked. His smoothed out his plain white button down shirt as he spoke.

"He's been staying out at his lake house. Take some boys up, get him to talk. I want to know who told who what, and after he's spilled his guts, you finish him." He told him. "Think you'll get him to talk?" Frankie stood, with a smile.

"I'll get him to sing."


Crysta walked out of the market her arms filled with brown bags. She tried to walk down the street, but was having trouble seeing in front of her. She hadn't made it five feet before she slammed into something hard, and fell to the ground, her brown bags falling to the ground with her. She was utterly embarrassed, thinking it was a wall. When she finally looked up and saw it was a man she felt like dying.

He was in a short sleeve button down shirt, and plane blue jeans. She looked up into his dark eyes and blushed, with a sheepish laugh. "I'm so sorry." She said, kneeling to collect the bags. He bent down also to collect them.

"Oh no, I'm sorry." He said with a thick New York accent. "Should have seen you coming." He helped her collect everything back into the bags and she smiled at him.

"Thank you." She said, her cheeks bright pink. The man smiled down at her.

"Let me help you." He said and collected two of the bags in his arms.

"Oh, thank you. I don't live to far away." She said. "My name is Crysta." She told him and blushed up at the handsome man.

"Nice to meet you Crysta. My names Frank." He said. "Where do you live?"

"Just up the street. The corner of 8th and 5th." She said and Frankie looked over at her.

"5th and 8th?"

"Yes. Where that poor man was killed. Joey." She said and Frankie nodded slowly. "He was so kind, he used to help me with my groceries, and there was this man who kept hitting on me, Joey kept him away." She said softly.

"I knew him." Frankie said. "I learned of his death a few days ago."

"Oh? You knew him well?"

"No, not well." Frankie lied. When they got to the apartment there were a few detectives there still stopping people outside to question them.

"Frankie boy!" A detective yelled sarcastically and Crysta looked up at Frankie before looking at the cop.

"Detective." He said nodding his head once.

"You are just the man I was looking for." He said walking up to the couple. Crysta looked up at Frankie with a frown.

"You found me."

"Pretty ballsy to come back to the crime scene. I'd thought daddy taught you better." Jacob smiled sadly.

"I don't know what you are talking about. I did nothing." He said. "I was at my mothers when the crime was committed."

"Of course you were at your mothers." He said darkly.

"I'm sorry, is he a suspect?" Crysta asked.

"I cant share that." He told her warmly.

"Then please let us pass." She said and walked passed him. She didn't know "Frankie boy" very well, but he had been very kind to her, and she was taught to judge people on how they treated her. Frankie gave Jacob a smug smile and followed her.

"I'll be seeing you later Frankie." He said.

"Sure you will." Frankie said. "I look forward to it."

"How does he know you?" She asked.

"Oh no reason. My cousin was arrested a while back." He said dismissively. "He liked me for the crime, but couldn't get me."

"And did you do it?" She asked opening the door to her apartment. In the back of her mind she knew she shouldn't open the door and let him in with her, but with all the cops down there, and him not being on good terms with them, she didn't believe he would try anything.

She pushed the door open with her back and walked into the house, followed by the stranger. "You can put it right here on the table." She said. "Thank you so much." She said with a smile. He smiled down at her, his eyes looking over her light brown hair and then her tanned skin. Her brown eyes were large and soft and he liked looking at her.

"Let me take you out to dinner." He said and leaned back against the wall.

"What?" She asked with a giggle. "I don't know you."

"Well, get to know me at dinner." He said and smiled at her.

"I don't know." She said softly.

"Please." He asked. He crossed his arms and she ran her eyes over the tan skin of his arms. "You will enjoy it. I promise." He told her, flashing her a charming smile. She paused a moment. She should know better than to go out with someone who was known by the cops, not only on a first name bases, but by his nick name!

"I don't know…" She said, but she looked into his rich, chocolate eyes and her resolve melted. "Ok. When?" She asked.


"Tonight?" She laughed, placing juice in the fridge.

"Why not. Eight O'clock? I will pick you up." He said.

"O-ok." She said. She smiled up at him. "Well you know where I live." She said and walked him to the door.

"I will see you at eight then." He said and she blushed at him.

"Ok. Bye, thank you." She said and he nodded walking out. She shut the door and leaned against it biting her lip. "Oh, my GOD!" She yelled and squealed, before running to her phone.


Frankie walked down the stairs with a smile on his face. She was a cutie, and she lived in an Italian neighborhood and so there was a good chance she was Italian, and so he may be able to have a real relationship with her.

When he stepped out onto the street Jacob was there waiting for him. "Hey detective Dick." He said in greeting. "How are you this fine day."

"Enjoy the feel of death then." he said standing in front of him.

"Oh you know. I'm used to it by now." He said his expression hard. Blue eyes blinked back into blue and it was a stare down of wills. It was broken when a car pulled up for Detective Johnson.

"I've got my eyes on you." Jacob said. "Don't skip town."

"I'll do as I wish." He said and watched him drive away. He made his way down the street until he got to Mick's Pizza place. He went in and saw his father at a table, surrounded by a few capo's. He went to sit next to them and kissed his father's hand.

"We've got a problem." He said sitting down. The others looked up from their food and stopped talking.

"And that is?"

"Marc thinks we got more than one informant left." Frankie said. "We think it was Cantilatto's crew. I need permission to find him, and take care of it."

"Why do you think there was more?" His father asked leaning back in his chair.

"It doesn't make logical sense. The whole crew walked remember. From that bank job. I'm thinking they made deals. All five of them. I need to go up to his lake house. You know…talk to him." He said. His father rubbed his hands together in thought.

"Keep it quiet. Don't leave any messes behind."

"Yes sir."

"Alright, go tonight." Frankie rose to leave but stopped and sat down again.


"Yes, tonight, you got a problem with that wise guy?" He asked sharply.

"I got a date." Frankie said. "At eight."

"A date." His father repeated.

"Yes. Italian." He said. "Gonna bring her to Gino's." He said.

"I see." He said. "Then you leave tomorrow at the earliest moment possible. Bring three men with you. You choose who."

"Alright. Thanks pops. Gentleman." He said and stood.

He pushed through the front door and went to the pay phone at the corner. "Gino?" He asked.

"Take down this number, and get to a payphone." He said and read off the payphone number for him. Once it was read off he hung up and waited for it to ring. When it did he answered.

"All right what do you want Frankie." He said.

"I want you, to bring Tony and Nick to my house tomorrow at seven. We are going up to the lake." He said.


"Gotta talk to Mario." Frankie said. "He's been talkin."

"I see. What do I bring." Gino asked and took out a notebook and pen.

"Things for an interrogation." He said looking over his shoulder. "Knives and rope."

"Alright." He said. "We'll be there."

"Good." Frankie said and turned around to leave the phone booth. He smiled and made his way home, to get ready for his date.


Frankie knocked on her door at 7:59. He heard shuffling behind the door and smiled. She opened the door and was wearing a little black dress. It was tasteful, but showed her curves. He smiled and looked her over slowly and she blushed deeply.

"Is this ok to wear?" She asked. "I wasn't sure where we were going."

"It is perfect." He said, his eyes lingering on her hips. "Are you ready? He asked.

"Yes." She said and stepped out and locking the door. She smiled up at him and he offered her his arm, which she took. She held onto his arm and liked the feel of his coat jacket under her naked arm. He lead her to a beautiful silver BMW and she ran her hand over the new paint.

"This is your car?" She asked and he opened to door for her.

"It is." He said. "Do you like it?"

"Oh it's beautiful." She said and sat down on the white leather inside. He sat down next to her and smiled. "Where are we going?"

"La Bella Luna." He said and looked over at her to gage her reaction.

"La Bella Luna!" She said shocked. "That place is so expensive, and so hard to get into. You have to wait to make reservations weeks ahead. It's impossible."

"I know the owner." He said with a smile. He moved one of his hands onto her knee and squeezed. "Only the best for my piccola bellezza." She blushed, she wasn't quite sure what it meant, but it seemed affectionate. They pulled up in front of the restaurant and he once again opened her door and helped her out.

"I've been trying to get in here for years." She said looking at the beautiful restaurant.

"Well, I am honored to be the first to bring you." He said and placed a hand on her hip. They walked into restaurant and stood in front of the receptionist.

"Name." He said looking at the list.

"I'm not on the list." He said and Crysta looked up at him in surprise. She opened her mouth to speak, but the man in front of them snapped his head up to look at him.

"Mr. Marullo. I wasn't aware it was you." He said. "Please let me bring you to your table." Frankie looked down at the girl he had his arm around and winked at her. She blushed and Frankie held the chair out for her and tucked it in.

"You are very sweet." She said and he sat down in front of her.

"You're very kind." He said. "What do you plan on getting?" he asked.

"Oh I don't know." She said opening the menu. "Everything looks so good."

"I recommend the Chicken Alfredo." He said, not opening the menu, leaning back with crossed arms. "It is wonderful"

"Do you come here often?" She asked, resting her menu down, taking his suggestion.

"Twice a week or so." He said and she laughed.

"How do you manage that? It must be so expensive!" She said opening the menu again and looking at the price. "Oh my God. Chicken Alfredo is twenty nine dollars!" She looked up at him with a blush and an embarrassed face. "I didn't bring enough money." He cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"I am paying. It wouldn't be right to make you pay darling." he said, she smiled at him and bit her bottom lip, with a smile.

"Ok, if you insist." She giggled.

"I do." A waiter came up to them, and said nothing but looked to Frankie.

"Chicken Alfredo for the beautiful lady. And the usual for myself Tony." The waiter wrote down the orders and Frankie continued. "Sangiovese for myself and Trebbiano for the lady. Bring the bottles." The waiter nodded to both of them and left.

"What were those? The last things you said?" She asked placing a napkin on her lap.

"Wines. Red for me and White for you. Because of the meals." He explained.

"You must come here a lot. For you to know them by name, and for you to have a usual." She asked and he felt her foot brush against his from under the table. The restaurant was a romantic setting, with candles lighting the majority of the dining area.

"My cousin owns it." He said.

"Your cousi-That's crazy!" She said. "This place must make a fortune."

"It does." He laughed.

"There are rumors it's owned by the mob." She said and saw him hesitate. He looked into her eyes a moment, before smiling softly.

"Whenever there is a congregation of Italians, it's the Mob now isn't it." He said. Wine bottles were brought to their table in a beautiful silver bucket of ice and the waiters left two wine bottles with them. Frankie reached for the white first and poured it to the brim.

"Trying to get me drunk?" She asked with a smile.

"Oh, you've found me out." He laughed and poured is own. He watched her lips wrap around the cup and take a small sip of her wine. Her eyes widened slightly when she drank.

"This is amazing." She said.

"I am glad you think so. I thought this wine would suit you. It is one of my favorites." He said, sipping his own wine.

"You know, you have a kind of Mafioso look about you." She said. "Sure you aren't in the mob."

"Would you be here if I was?" He asked and she was taken a back a moment. She had meant it as a joke, but his eyes were intense, and serious.

"I don't know." She said honestly. "I shouldn't be."

"That doesn't mean you wouldn't be though." He said and sipped his wine. She stared into his eyes a long moment and finally looked away with a blush.

"You haven't denied it." She said and he smiled.

"What do you do?" He asked drastically changing the subject , but she didn't press the issue.

"I am still in school actually. I am becoming a history major." She said.

"Oh?" He asked and ran a hand over his hair.

"Yes. I place on getting my PhD."

"What do you plan on focusing on?" he asked, genuinely interested. He didn't really speak to his dates, well, they spoke, he just didn't listen, but this one was cute.

"Ancient Rome." She told him and he smiled. Catching the smile she added. "I just love Italian men that much." He chuckled.

"And are you Italian?" He asked and brought his hand up and stroked her cheek, placing a misplaced strand behind her ear and she blushed again.

"Yes." She said. "On my mothers side."

"A wonderful trait." He said. There food arrived and Crysta hummed with pleasure as she smelled the food. Frankie topped off her wine and placed it on the table.

They ate dinner over polite conversation, which was mainly focused on her. She asked a few questions, but he always turned it around on her. By the end of the night, her head was spinning from the wine she had consumed and was grinning widely at Frankie.

"This wine was amazing." She said looking at the empty bottle. "Can I keep the bottle?" She asked and he laughed.

"Yes, you'd better, for a two hundred and fifty dollar wine." He said and she gasped.


"Don't worry Darling." He said and wrapped an arm around her.

"Don't we need to pay?" She asked.

"I am not charged." He said. He stopped her at the doors and took off his coat, wrapping it around her shoulders. He led her to his car and helped her in. She was leaning into him the walk to the car, and the walk up to her apartment door. She leaned into him with a smile on her face and he had his hands on her waist.

"Will I see you again?" She asked and placed a kiss right under his jaw. She had to stand on her tip toes just to get that far.

"Of course you will." He murmured and placed his lips to hers.

"Even though you're in the mob." He smiled against her mouth and kissed her a second time. "Do you want my number?" She asked.

"I will give you mine." He said and wrote it down on a piece of paper he had ready. He handed it over to her and she held onto it lovingly. He leaned down and placed a long, and slow kiss to her lips. "Go on in now." He said and placed a hand on her back, pushing her gently into the apartment.

If he had wanted he was sure he could have gotten her into bed. She was far enough gone it would have been simple, but she was to good for that. He didn't want her used as a booty call. She smiled at him shyly as she closed to door. "Good night. I'll call you." She said softly.

"You'd better." He said with a laugh. "Now make sure you lock the door."

"I will. Good night." She said again.

And shut the door.

A/N: Well, I loved Frankie from Prison Bitch, but couldn't do much with him, and someone said it would be cool to hear his story. I was writing my other stories, but kept thinking back to Frankie, and decided to give it go.

I have this story finished. I am quite proud of it so I hope people are interested.

I will still be updating my other stories, this one is finished, so I will update with reviews..

Also I am going on vacation, Saturday to Saturday, I will be writing, but not updating, so hopefully I will have a chapter or two for you when I get back. ^-^

Please Review!