Franco would have been in the Bronx, New York, helping out his brother, Marco, with some of his day-to-day operations. He was entrusted with making sure things, such as money and weaponry, got to where they needed to be. It seemed like another day, but Marco has been closing himself off in his HQ a lot the past few days and it was really apparent that something wasn't right, he usually isn't this paranoid about things. Something must have happened lately that he hasn't talked to many people about, it was unusual for him. Franco would be outside of Marco's office, right about to do a few knocks when the door swings open!

"Franco, I need you to take this money and run it to the marketplace. We need to cash ourselves out, brother," He didn't even get a chance to reply before Marco ran off with some bodyguards. Franco would have several money bags sitting in Marco's office, he'd sigh as he approached them to haul them into his car.

After about ten minutes of driving, Franco pulled up to the marketplace and a man quickly approached him,

"Marco needs some money exchanged?" The big man would say as he rested his elbows on Franco's car window,

"Indeed, it seems he'd rather have it sooner than later if you know what I mean."

Franco would get out of his car, helping the man haul the many filled moneybags when he heard shots go off. Franco would beeline towards the car, having gotten all of the money bags out, and would pull out, quickly heading towards where he heard the shots. Was he crazy? Why is he going towards the shots? He needed to find out what was going on. He'd pull up to roughly where he heard them, and see his brother laying on the ground with his hand gripped on his favorite snub-nosed revolver, with a woman-like figure dashing away. Franco would stand in horror, unable to muster the strength to move closer to his brother. He would see no visible signs of life as the blood dripped down from Marco's neck, his coat was even soaked in blood!

"Riposo in pace, Fratello," Franco would mumble to himself as he quickly turned around and hopped back in his vehicle, dashing towards the nearest pay phone. He'd quickly grab coins out of his coat, and drop a few in the process, he was shaking so bad it made it hard to dial.

"Hello?" The voice would mutter over the phone,

"It's Franco, we need to leave the country. I can't explain now, but pack up Ma and the others. We're leaving tonight," Franco would hastily slam the phone back and slide a little bit trying to dash back to his car, with the driver side door still open. The car would zoom off, leaving a few marks from the dicey U-turn that was done.