Run Mary. Run. I do not know where you should go, but you need to get out of Pienza. Your father did a very bad thing and now men are coming to kill all of us.

Please mama! Come with me and run away, I cant live without you, please!

Tears were streaming down Mary’s face.

My beautiful baby girl. I must stay here with your father, it will all be fine, Im sure they will not kill a woman.

There was a tone of doubt in sorrow in her voice. One Mary knew very well.

Mama! I do not know where to go I do not know what to do!

Mary was panicking. Her mother went into her room and came back with some money.

Here, it is not much but it may just get you away from all of this. Promise me you will not come back.

But mama…

PROMISE ME YOU WILL NOT COME BACK MARY!

Her mother had never yelled at her before. It scared her.

Ok mama, I will go. I will go and never return. But please promise you will defend yourself if it should come to that.

My child, I am but a small woman. I have no power. But if they try to take me, I will fight all my body will let me. I will fight for you.

Tears once again flowed like a river out of Mary’s eyes.

Mary left her small house in Pienza and grabbed a horse from a nearby farm. She rode and rode until she reached Ancona, Italy. From there she boarded a boat that said they were going to America. America, Mary thought, the land of the free. A chance to start over and be more than a farmer’s daughter.

After much traveling time, Mary reached the shores of Philadelphia. She little money and she knew not one person. She started by getting a job at a flower shop. Her father being a farmer taught her a few things. Since she had no place to stay, the shop owner let her sleep in the shop. Day in and day out she worked. Nothing seemed to exciting about this low pay job in the land of the free. But one day something extraordinary happened.

Mary was sweeping the inside of the store when a man in a pin striped suit came up to her and asked about some roses. Mary helped the gentleman out explaining all she knew. The man seemed very interested for some reason. He then asked what her name was.

My name is Mary sir. Mary Tippoli.

The man chuckled. He then started looking her up and down. It was very uncomfortable.

No, no your name is not Mary Tippoli.

Mary was confused. Very confused.

Im sorry sir, but yes my name is Mary Tippoli.

The man looked at her very seriously.

No, it is not. I know who you are. I worked with your father.

Mary had then gained interest in the man. How could this man have worked with her simple farmer father.

Sir? How do you know my father?

Well, we did some jobs over in New York. But you wouldn’t know anything about that would you. That’s right, you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t even know who your dad REALLY is.

Mary was speechless. But she somehow muttered a few words.

Wha..what do you mean? I don’t understand.

The man took a picture out of his pocket.

This is your father. His name was Alvise Soldatto. He was part of an organized crime group. He sent you away when you were little to a connection he had in Italy so that you would never find out about what he did. I guess something happened over there that made you come here. Here, take some money and get yourself some new clothes.

The man handed Mary $1,000.00 and walked out of the shop with his rose. Mary stood there in amazement. Her whole life in Italy was a lie, and to top it all off, her father was a mobster. A real mobster. Someone that took what they wanted and gave nothing back. A man that was above the law and committed horrible crimes. The peasant life in Italy she grew to love was now a hollow existence that she once shared with two strangers that were never her real parents. Mary took off her apron and gardening gloves. She walked out of the store and around the back alley. She saw a man standing there. She always knew he was there, but said nothing about it. The man straightened up.

Something I can help you with beautiful?

Mary hesitated a moment and then pulled the money out that the man had gave her.

I want whatever this will get me.

The man pulled out a sack full of Mushrooms. He reached for the money, and then, without a second to spare, Mary punched the man as hard as she could in the face. Working hard labor in Italy made her tough and she was physically fit. She dropped her money and tackled the man. She viciously beat the man over and over again with her fists. Blood was everywhere, but Mary could not stop. She continued to beat the man until his body lay still. Blood was covering what was left of the man’s face. Mary stood up, straightened herself out, and then took the money and drugs. Something had snapped in Mary and she no longer cared about other people the way she used to. Her life changed right there in that alley. She decided sleeping in a flower shop was a load of horse shit and she  walked off never returning to that street again. With money in her pocket and a stash of drugs, she began her life as a street mobster.

Who ever said woman could never be in the mob was dead wrong. Mary could be just as cold blooded and cunning as the rest of them. And she was going to prove it.

The no longer fat man but extremely sexy mobster stands up and begins clapping

"Bravo! I loved the read. Thank you very much for sharing that with the community. I hope there is more too it!"

SINGERROURKE smiles and gives her hand as well.

Hey, Im proud of you. You take what you want and earn what you get and you are on the sure path of greatness sister. I too enjoyed this story of your life and how you have come to be. Im looking forward to reading something when you get brought into the family.

Thank you very much. Both of you. And to Richard, only time will tell ;)