America was supposed to be different.  

All her life, Ilaria had heard that women in America could do anything at all; even vote in political elections. From a young age, Ilaria's "American dream" hadn't been wealth or big houses; it had been freedom.  After all, nothing is more frustrating than knowing exactly what you're supposed to do with your life but not being allowed to do it because you're a woman.  Finally, she had her chance to make it happen.  Bidding her father a brief and business-like farewell, she boarded a plane and crossed the ocean to America, where a woman absolutely could go to medical school and become a doctor.

But apparently not an Italian woman. 

"While your credentials and secondary education are impressive, we regret that we can no longer accept students from your area due to recent criminal activity that has threatened the integrity of our institution.  Best of luck in your future endeavors."

The letter had been tossed into the trash, followed by a string of every curse word she knew.  Everything she'd done, including traveling halfway around the world to apply to this school, seemed to be for nothing.  What absolute bigotry- from a country that was supposed to be so open and welcoming to newcomers.  Sure, there were other medical schools, but would she be met with the same absurdity?

Ilaria Santoro was the only daughter and only child of Generale Stefan Santoro, now retired.  When Ilaria was twelve, her mother took ill with a terrible fever and passed away within two days.  Still actively serving, her father could not raise Ilaria on his own, so the young girl was sent to a private boarding school in Venice. There, she learned to speak English fluently, and performed very well in her other academics as well.  On holidays, when most children would go home to spend time with family, Ilaria would remain at the boarding school where her father would send a dictated letter, a few birthday or Christmas gifts, and cash.  He visited only twice- once on her sixteenth birthday, and the other at her graduation. The hardened old man had barely recognized his daughter at all.  It wasn't that he was a bad father; he was simply a military man, and knew nothing about raising or relating to a young woman.  Ilaria never held this against him.  Simply watching him for the first few years of her life had taught her much about him, and she inherited much of his militaristic discipline.  

Upon graduation, Ilaria returned to her home and began working as an assistant to a friend of her father's- an old combat physician who had retired and set up a small surgical practice.  She worked there from age 18-25, picking up as much knowledge and skill as she could. So impressed was the old doctor at her skill, he arranged and paid for her to attend nursing school.  At 28, she graduated with honors and took a job working at hospital on the base where her father was commanding officer.  Her skills were outstanding, and she tended to work circles around the other girls.  Naturally, jealousy and rumors became nasty.  The nursing staff would  whisper that she was only favored because of her father, and were quite snooty and cold to her.  Ilaria loved what she did, but she couldn't stand the hen house twaddle. It wasn't that she thought herself better than them, just more serious. Working for the old doctor had given her the desire to be a doctor herself, and that's what she would aim for.

Unfortunately, her father was staunchly against such an idea.  Despite her persistence, he was a stone wall.  His sentiment was echoed at every medical school in the country: "Women cannot be doctors.  It's just not done."  Their denials only fueled her determination, and that is when she made the decision to go to America.  Fortunately, her father was supportive of that.  He still believed that she would become nothing more than a nurse, but America was safer and politically more stable than her home. With his blessing and her own saved money, she bought her way onto a ship, and then a plane bound for America.

---------

Another day, another newspaper scattered on the floor of her room at a small Nevada bed and breakfast while Ilaria scanned the classifieds.  Each day, she received more letters of denial from colleges, and each day she became more and more discouraged.  No one seemed to care that she was a woman, but everyone seemed skeptical of her heritage.  However, on this particular day, an ad in the classifieds caught her eye.

"Seeking medical professional for private family service.  Excellent pay, live-in opportunity.  
Italian/Italian-American applicants only. Ask for Uncle Joe."

Both intrigued and suddenly rather excited, Ilaria practically ran downstairs to use the phone in the common living room and dialed the number. A position for a family would be perfect- not to mention a place to sleep other than a rickety old bed and breakfast in the Nevada desert.

-----

"Hello?"

"Yes, Ciao- my name is Ilaria Santoro.  I am calling about the ad in the paper.  I am a nurse.  I am supposed to ask for...Uncle Joe?"

There were a few moments of silence, and the voice that answered the phone could just barely be heard in a muffled tone.  Soon, another voice picked up the line.

"This is Joe, who's this?"

"Ciao, Signore, my name is Ilaria Santoro.  I found your ad in the paper looking for a medical professional for your family.  Is that position still open?"

"It is.  Where are you from, Miss Santoro?"

"Venice, Signore.  I have been in the US only a few weeks.  I have excellent credentials, and I have plenty of experience with pediatric care, as well.  How many children do you have, if I may ask?"

The voice on the other end sounded confused.

"Children, signora?"

"Well, yes, your ad said you were looking for family care- I assumed you had children."

Uncle Joe's voice broke into a hearty laugh.

"Miss Santoro, I think you may be confused.  Tell you what- I'll send a car for you and we can finish this interview in person."

-----

Ilaria left the meeting with Joseph Ligambi with a job- though not the one she had originally thought she was applying for. 

Back home, in Italy, the presence of the Mafia- "the honored men-" was heavy, and everyone knew who they were.  The American Cosa Nostra was different, in the those involved were less well known outside the Italian communities.  They were more business-oriented so as to blend in with the wealthy.  The ugly business was kept in the shadows.  

Under Joseph Ligambi, the family she was now working for was a large, underground organized crime family headed by Signore Ligambi himself.  Upon realizing this, Ilaria had some hesitations- but, the pay was too good to pass up.  Besides, a man with pull like Signore Ligambi might be helpful to her in becoming a doctor.  Someday.

For now, Ilaria's task was to pack her things at the little bed and breakfast and return to the Ligambi family headquarters. For a moment, she considered calling home to her father; but perhaps that could wait a while.  In fact, it was probably best that he be kept on a "need to know" basis.