“Don Falcone yes. That is where I remember you from… who knew all his boys are so sharp-tongued.” She lets out, knowing that referring to him as a boy would anger him. Mario’s nostrils flare angrily as he grows annoyed by the Donna. He knew there was a reason people are afraid of her, but Mario didn’t see why. To him, she was just another Donna... and just another woman.
“I didn’t come here to discuss me. I came on his behalf; he wishes to meet with you.” He forces out, trying to get past the Donna’s previous comment.
“Is that so?” The Donna asks as she takes a seat on one of the bar stools and crosses her long, perfect brown legs. “Please, have a seat.”
“Yes and, I’m alright, thank you.” He declines just as the Donna motions for the seat across her. “My Don thinks highly of you, slight
